DM-Camris' GIANT SLAYER: 1. Mysteries in Trunau (Inactive)

Game Master Camris

All in the small village of Trunau have gathered in the Commons, a large amphitheater
in the center of town, to celebrate the birthday of Ruby, the youngest daughter of the town’s leader, Chief Defender Halgra of the Blackened Blades. It is not just
any birthday for Ruby, though—it is her twelfth birthday, which means she has come of age and will receive her very own hopeknife. An early autumn breeze blows through the gathered crowd, bring a slight chill to the air.

There is a buzz of excitement working its way through those gathered and a very short figure is seen trying to make her way through the crowd. A closer inspection reviles a halfling carrying a tray of drinks. "Excuse me...pardon me..." she says as does her best to make her way through the throng of people and not spill any of her drinks. She makes her way to a group of gruff-looking half-orcs, one of which has a tattoo on his face around his eye and a clean-shaven head. The smell of wolves hangs thick on his clothing. "Your drinks," She says to the man and offers up the tray of drinks. He grunts his thanks and flips her a copper piece and takes the drinks off the tray, handing them out to the other orcs around him. "Excuse me...your tab is mo..." Her words are drowned out by the thunderous crack of a thunderstone. A hush quickly falls over the gathered crowd.

A weathered and war-tested woman who, despite her clear many battles, manages to beam with pride makes her way to the stage, followed in toe to a very nervous looking little girl wearing a simple tunic a pair of sandals. She looks down at her feet as she followed her mother up the stairs and onto the stage. Once there the older woman turns to address the crowd.

“Thank you all for joining us this night. I take immense pride in my responsibility as Chief Defender, especially when it comes to the honor of the hopeknife ceremony. It is always a great privilege to bequeath Trunauan youths their hopeknives as they
come of age.” Halgra stops speaking long enough to open an ornamental case and retrieve a slender, ornately decorated dagger hanging from a silver chain. “But tonight is a special occasion, for the recipient of this hopeknife is none other than
my youngest daughter.” Once again, Halgra pauses, but this time she turns to talk to the child beside her. “Ruby, by the traditions of our town, you have come of age. This hopeknife represents your responsibilities as an adult and defender of Trunau.
You must be willing to use it on yourself, your fellow Trunauans, and your family—even me, should it come to that. It will be a far quicker death than that which the orcs will offer, and providing it is your duty. Do you swear to guard Trunau from all comers, and to use your hopeknife only for its intended purpose?” Ruby—dusky skinned, black haired, and painfully shy—nods her head in response to her mother’s question. “If the orcs come, and there is no other option, this is where you cut—here, here, and here.” Halgra demonstrates which arteries to sever while Ruby watches. When she is finished, Halgra sheathes the hopeknife and places the necklace around Ruby’s neck before turning back to address the crowd. “Tonight, Ruby becomes a full member of our community! Let us welcome her, and celebrate her passage into adulthood! Trunau forever!” The crowd echoes Halgra’s last words in unison, signaling the end of the ceremony.

Grobradon Bridgeworth is tall enough, standing sixfoot and inch, unless you're in a town with a sizable (pun intended) number of half orcs already. His skin's green hue seems to catch passing lights depending on the tan it runs over. Orcish heritage touches his features, but he's a lucky one, looking more impressive than beastly. What really separates him from most half orcs? This one has a lute. He strums it lightly as he hopes his musical skills will be in demand.

He doesn't break into full song yet, the ceremony is too close. Then he stops as ...

"Excuse me...pardon me..." she says as does her best to make her way through the throng of people and not spill any of her drinks. She makes her way to a group of gruff-looking half-orcs, one of which has a tattoo on his face around his eye and a clean-shaven head. The smell of wolves hangs thick on his clothing. "Your drinks," She says to the man and offers up the tray of drinks. He grunts his thanks and flips her a copper piece and takes the drinks off the tray, handing them out to the other orcs around him. "Excuse me...your tab is mo..." Her words are drowned out by the thunderous crack of a thunderstone. A hush quickly falls over the gathered crowd.

Quietly, he slips the halfing another two copper, an apologetic look on his face. Way to make orc bloods look bad, gents.

“Thank you all for joining us this night. I take immense pride in my responsibility as Chief Defender, especially when it comes to the honor of the hopeknife ceremony. It is always a great privilege to bequeath Trunauan youths their hopeknives as they
come of age.” Halgra stops speaking long enough to open an ornamental case and retrieve a slender, ornately decorated dagger hanging from a silver chain. “But tonight is a special occasion, for the recipient of this hopeknife is none other than
my youngest daughter.” Once again, Halgra pauses, but this time she turns to talk to the child beside her. “Ruby, by the traditions of our town, you have come of age. This hopeknife represents your responsibilities as an adult and defender of Trunau.
You must be willing to use it on yourself, your fellow Trunauans, and your family—even me, should it come to that. It will be a far quicker death than that which the orcs will offer, and providing it is your duty. Do you swear to guard Trunau from all comers, and to use your hopeknife only for its intended purpose?” Ruby—dusky skinned, black haired, and painfully shy—nods her head in response to her mother’s question. “If the orcs come, and there is no other option, this is where you cut—here, here, and here.” Halgra demonstrates which arteries to sever while Ruby watches. When she is finished, Halgra sheathes the hopeknife and places the necklace around Ruby’s neck before turning back to address the crowd. “Tonight, Ruby becomes a full member of our community! Let us welcome her, and celebrate her passage into adulthood! Trunau forever!” The crowd echoes Halgra’s last words in unison, signaling the end of the ceremony.

He applauds, and strikes a lively tune on his lute. Frankly he finds the custom morbid, but Ruby deserves her moment of celebration. So lively uplifting music it is!

During the celebration, a bespectacled, silver-haired half-elf sits on the outskirts of the rather ghoulish proceedings. He feels practically voyeuristic witnessing a small town custom like this. Hope and mercy-killing didn't really seem to go hand-in-hand. But what could you do?

He looks around at the gathered. Mostly humans and half-orcs. A few others, too. Not who he was looking for, really.
Perception, looking for elves or half-elves: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

Failing that, the man looks for where Asher or Thorfinn might be in the crowd. A known face in a lake of strangers might be nice. But if they were busy, he would make do.

One of the half-orcs pulls out a lute and starts playing something pleasant. The half-elf leans back and taps his foot (poorly) to the music.

A stagecoach and four rumbled through the town gate and came to a stop as the horses were reigned in by the coachman. He rapped on the roof and shouted "We're here gentlemen!"
The door opened and a blonde haired and bearded man stepped out and stood up. And up. And up. Until the enormous man stood tall at seven foot seven and nearly as wide. The stagecoach rocked back wildly as he stepped off, removing his weight. He stretched after the long ride, deliberately showing his very prominent musculature.
"Hah! Who are you callin' a gentleman?" He said grinning as he looked around the old familiar wooden construction.
"Asher! Wake up we're here!" He called out, thumping the side of the stagecoach. He reached up and took his huge footlocker off the top of the coach, shouldering it easily.
"Sounds like we're missing a party!"

Starting awake at the loud banging on the side of the carriage, Asher yawns, sitting up and stretching, his back popping audibly. Seeing his enormous companion outside the carriage, he smiles, slaps his hands on his thighs, and hops down to the ground. The sides of his head are shaved, his brown hair pulled back in multiple braids and twists of hair into a leather thong that ties his hair back, reaching the back of his neck.

Looking around, he wipes the sleep from his eyes as he takes in the town of Trunau. He was almost two feet shorter than Thorfinn. "Here? Really?" At a nod from Thorfinn he smiles, looking at the town again, a look of eagerness on his face. "Here then. You think Varys'll actually show up this time?"

Clover has to squeeze and weave through the crowd all the way to the vert front, otherwise she wouldn't be able to see anything. She'd had to do considerable whinging and pleading to get Auntie Cham to let her leave work for the rest of the day so she could come. Even so, Cham had kept her so long washing sheets Clover hadn't the time to change out of her work clothes before leaving.

She knows the elements of the ceremony well, she's had her own and seen many others, but Clover still pays attention. This one with Ruby is sort of a big deal since Halgra is her mother.

As the initial, formal part comes to it's conclusion, Clover echoes Halgra's and the crowd's cry of "Trunau Forever!" and claps for the girl.

The music starts up, signaling the transition to the better part of the event She notices it's a half-orc by the name of Grobradon she believes, whom she's used to seeing around town, starting it with his lute.

Asher looks away from Thorfinn as a cry goes up from the center of town. "Trunau forev-" he turns back to his giant friend, feigning upset. "Why are they yelling Trunau forever? Is it planning on going somewhere? We've only just arrived."

I'm going to retcon my last post a bit so that I roll into town with Thorfinn and Asher, otherwise it doesn't make much sense.

"Show up how, precisely?" says a lithe slip of a half-elf approaching from a wagon further back in the caravan. He stands almost exactly between the height of the other two. His long silver hair is pulled back for now: easier to manage on a caravan journey. His voice is a light tenor, with practiced and exact elocution. "Your snoring was too loud for my reading, so I moved back," he says, raising one eyebrow at Asher. "Even with earplugs. You didn't think you'd lose me after two weeks, did you?"

Varys stretches, shrugging his over-stuffed back into a more comfortable place on his back. The sooner he could set this safely down, the better.

The half-elf puts on his glasses, looks towards where the noise of town is coming from, and begins walking idly in that direction.
"Are you both coming, mm?"

He'll make that Perception once we get in, and hopefully we caught the ceremony!

Asher smiles, intentionally not looking at Varys. "Do you hear something, Thor? Gods I could use a whiskey."

He strides to catch up with Varys. "I'm offended you think I snore. That was clearly the little guy." Asher argues, gesturing back to their tall friend.

"Why are they yelling Trunau forever? Is it planning on going somewhere? We've only just arrived."

"Hah! Either way, sounds like a party! Let's crash it!" Thorfinn said, absently catching up Asher's trunk off the stagecoach along with his own and easily balancing both on one massive shoulder.

"You think Varys'll actually show up this time?"

"Show up how, precisely?"

"There he is!" Thorfinn said, pointing at Varys unnecessarily. "Come on Varys, we're gonna crash a party!" He said enthusiastically as he strode forward. "Here, that looks heavy." He said, catching up Vary's pack as well.

"Do you hear something, Thor?"

"Oh yea, that's Varys. He said someone was snoring, but I didn't hear anything." He said sagely.

"Gods I could use a whiskey."

"Hey yeah!" Said Thorfinn perking up. "That's an even better idea! PARTY AND WHISKEY! WOOOOOO!" He whooped and then strode ahead toward the sounds of the ceremony.

Grobradon nods respectfully to Clover, damn straight he does, word is that she's a nice nuff girl but might be able to cast the evil eye on you. Could be just a story, but why offend?

Then the newcomers he doesn't recognize come up, seemingly curious.

Well, He thinks, If they're curious about the town, maybe I can give them a musical tour with that song I've been working on? I'm worried it's not ready. Everyone might hate it, they might like it.

Well, a bard too scared to sing is no bard at all, so he nods to the newcomers and starts up the vocal part of his song

"We're the wall beyond the lastwall
Our hope's on the point of a knife
And all we ever asked for was to live a peaceful life
But peace is not our share,
So we struggle together alone.
We're all a little crazy but it's home.
Yes sir !

We're the wall beyond the lastwall
Our hope's on the point of a knife
And all we ever asked for was to live a peaceful life
But peace is not our share,
So we struggle together alone.
We're all a little crazy but it's home.
Yes Sir!

Then he calls out "Tranau Forever!" And for one brief moment, he actually feels it.

Performance Singing if roll required 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

"Ho boy. I think it's your turn to babysit Thorfinn? I had to sleep next to the snoring mountain after all." Asher smiles charmingly at Varys, slapping him on the shoulder. "Now what is there to do in this backwater?"

Varys starts with the dual mandhandling of Thorfinn grabbing his bag and Asher slapping his back.
"Wait, no, I--!" he protests. "Babysit?" He looks uncertain at the idea. He had no good way of restraining the Ulfen man from doing anything that he wanted, and he wasn't sure he wanted to try.

He reaches for his bag again, looking flustered. "It's not that heavy. I can manage." He frowns, thinking of the delicate balance achieved to ensure that the ink bottles stay upright and don't break and spill over everything, looking nervously at the way that Thorfinn is grabbing the bag.

He doesn't notice the singing half-orc at first during the commotion with his traveling companions, but something about the prose and the playing draws him in. "Well that's a lovely song," he comments absentmindedly to Asher and Thorfinn. "I didn't know there was a bardic college in the Holds of Belkzen."

Babysitting a man looking for whiskey sounds unpleasant. Varys blinks a few times at Asher and shrugs.
Knowledge (local), what is there to do in Trunau? Varys has probably been reading a lot on the way in.: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Well, there seems to be a celebration, and a half-orc gentleman with a memorable voice who it almost seems was calling to us. I'm going to over and listen." After a moment, he adds to Thorfinn. "Bards usually know where to find a good stiff drink. Come with me, neh?"

He grabs his bag back and walks through the crowd towards the gentleorc with the lute, looking for signs of anyone slightly less human or orcish, and urging the other two to walk with him.

Rolling over my Perception from my retconned first post, if I can.

"Right with you." Asher smiles, walking with Varys before calling out to the giant Ulfen. "Thorfinn! This way! We're going to go listen to this singer. He's got whiskey!"

A hush falls over the crowd as Grobradon starts to play his lute and then breaks into song at the arrival of the others. After the song a cheer of "Trunau forever" rings out once more and then Helgra clears her throat on the stage.

"As is tradition, we will now select players for the tug of war." she pauses to turn and address Ruby "Ruby, is there anyone specific you want to be on your team?" The girl looks up for the first time since coming on stage, her cheese flush with embarrassment. It is very clear that while technically an adult she still had quite a lot of growing up to do and was not a fan of being the center of all this attention. She her voice cracked as she spoke.

"Mr...Mrs. Clover would you please do me this honor? Aaand Mr. Gro...Grob..." Her nerves get the best of her and she points over at Grobradon. "aaaand" she pauses, her eyes going wide as she sees the immense man that is Tornfinn come into view. "I choose him" She says a grin creasing across her face for what seems like the first time this evening. "And his traveling companions as well."

A voice calls out from the crowd, and some of you recognize it as Roderick Grath, the son of the head of the guard. "That's not fair, a green skin and a mountain of a man, how am I suppose" Helgra cuts him off swiftly.

"It is what Ruby wants and it will be what she has. Now will all the competitors please make their way onto the stage."

sorry guys to post and run I will get rules up for the tug of war when I get home

"NOW THE PARTY CAN BEGIN NOW THAT THORFINN'S BACK IN TOWN!" Exulted Thorfinn cheerily as he and his friends came up to the crowd. He struck a heroic pose that showed off his musculature.
He looked suddenly puzzled as someone handed him one end of a rope.
"What's this now?" He asked standing up normally now. "I was told there would be whiskey..." He said, looking around for the beverage in question.

Asher cheers as Ruby names Thorfinn, but chokes on his cheer as she names his companions as well. "Wait, what?"

"Mr...Mrs. Clover would you please do me this honor? Aaand Mr. Gro...Grob..." Her nerves get the best of her and she points over at Grobradon. "aaaand" she pauses, her eyes going wide as she sees the immense man that is Tornfinn come into view. "I choose him" She says a grin creasing across her face for what seems like the first time this evening. "And his traveling companions as well."

Grobradon blinks, surprised to be picked. Guess his song got him noticed. WHich is sweet, Ruby is clearly a ...

"NOW THE PARTY CAN BEGIN NOW THAT THORFINN'S BACK IN TOWN!" Exulted Thorfinn cheerily as he and his friends came up to the crowd. He struck a heroic pose that showed off his musculature.

He looked suddenly puzzled as someone handed him one end of a rope.
"What's this now?" He asked standing up normally now. "I was told there would be whiskey..." He said, looking around for the beverage in question

Brilliant strategist! as he looks over the newcomer who looks like the gods crafted him with muscle with muscle filling

A voice calls out from the crowd, and some of you recognize it as Roderick Grath, the son of the head of the guard. "That's not fair, a green skin and a mountain of a man, how am I suppose" Helgra cuts him off swiftly.

"It is what Ruby wants and it will be what she has. Now will all the competitors please make their way onto the stage."

Then Roderick has to pen his mouth, and Grobradon gives him a glare "I'm as much a citizen of this place as you." But he moves along towards the stage, "Thank you for picking me, Ruby. It's an honor."

Asher cheers as Ruby names Thorfinn, but chokes on his cheer as she names his companions as well. "Wait, what?"

"It's a tug of war, rope pulling contest. I'm Grobradon by the way, he says to the strangers, "This is Clover. Appreciate you folks being game about this."

Asher shakes the half-orcs hand. "Asher. Why are we...?" he asks, pointing at the stage and the rest of the people gathered there.

Varys is surprised to be among those singled out for what seemed like an important tradition. Tug of war. He had never heard of this. Something unique to the Holds of Belkzen? It sounded like a war-game, readying children in a war-torn region to be vigilant regarding the dynamics in group conflicts. Yes: war is an expensive proposition, with a mixture of both combatants and civilians who have competing demands on limited resources. That must be the tug of war.

Or at least that's what the half-elf thinks as he walks towards the stage...until he sees the rope. Oh.

Well, this was a bit less complex than he imagined. Though in the choosing of a team, Varys supposes that there is some manner of strategy involved. An early lesson, then. Maybe the war-games came later.

"I'll buy you a tumbler of whiskey after we help this girl win, Thorfinn," he says, patting the mountain on the shoulder.

After Asher shakes Grobradon's hand, Varys follows suit. He also reaches down to shake Clover and Ruby's hands.
"Greetings. I'm Varys. I liked your song. Is there a bardic college in the Holds of Belkzen?"

He blinks expectantly as he reaches to take hold of the rope, intuiting some of the rules of a rope-pulling contest.

See the spoiler below for the rules of the tug of war. Please hold off on any rolls until I have all your strength mods and inits in the discussion thread(see my post there requesting them).

Clover goes beet red in the face when Ruby calls her out. She hasn't the slightest idea why anyone would ever pick her for such a contest. But she goes on up and stands waiting, fidgeting after a nervous grin for Ruby.

Asher shakes the half-orcs hand. "Asher. Why are we...?" he asks, pointing at the stage and the rest of the people gathered there.

He returns the hand shake, "Well, it's Ruby's day;she's come of age- hope knife and all. She's chosen us as her champions in the contest. You could refuse I suppose but it would be kind of rude and break a 12 year old's heart."

After Asher shakes Grobradon's hand, Varys follows suit. He also reaches down to shake Clover and Ruby's hands.

"Greetings. I'm Varys. I liked your song. Is there a bardic college in the Holds of Belkzen?"

"Thanks, Varys," at the compliment he smiles, but the smile fades just a bit , "If there is, I wouldn't know. Trunau maybe IN Belkzan now, but it isn't of it as far as most see it here. There are a few tribes that leave us be, but others want to wipe us from the map. It's a grim life. Which is why we need moments of song and celebration"

Asher nods politely at Ruby and Clover.

Team Ruby Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Whomp whomp...uninspiring start!

Clover returns Asher's nod with a wan smile because one should be polite. She's feeling quite nervous about the whole deal since she's convinced it's going to be embarrassing.

"Well, alright then." Said Thorfinn looking at everyone clustering around the rope. "So when do I start pulling?"

"Anytime, I suppose?" Asher mumbles for everyone to hear.

"When they say begin... let her rip" THe half orc grins

As the other team gets into position, Varys overhears them complaining loudly about the stature of the competition. He scoffs. Complaining about Ruby's choices just seems rude. He thinks of some smart words to launch back towards the other side, try to needle and goad them into saying or doing something stupid, but decides that as a newcomer visitor with some possible business in town getting on anyone's bad side so early would be unwise.

So he turns to the others, making idle small talk while holding the rope.
"I read a few books about the area before I left, which is why I was surprised to meet someone with artistic talent. Your type is rare in frontier communities. It's more difficult for someone to teach themselves and find much success, but there are prodigies who find no use for formal education."

He turns to the quiet halfling, blinking. "I think they said that you're Clover, yes?" Varys pauses. There were about as many half-elves as halflings in Kaer Maga: both were minorities. The tall folk often said unpleasant things about the halflings though. Varys flexes his shoulders and stares at her before rattling off again. "Clovers are pretty plants. I don't know much about plants, but I believe clovers are related to beans. Or at least I read that once. Agriculture is difficult in my home city, so I haven't seen many crops or wildflowers."

He smiles.

"Have you been to one of the great bardic colleges? I mean, to visit, Varys? I've often wondered what it would it be like. I've never been more than a half mile outside of this town"

"That is very sheltered. You should travel more." Varys says matter-of-factly, not trying to be insulting or insensitive. "Hmm. Well, the Lyceum in Kaer Maga is a veritable trove of talent that admits anyone. Most of the adherents there are Shelynites, but a Caydenite or Desnan would not be out of place. Korvosa and Magnimar have nice schools as well, but I'm partial to the Lyceum."

"The Lyceum.. mmm" Grobradon tries not to look positively hungry at the notion of getting out more, "I would like to travel.. some day."

"Just say when!" Thundered Thorfinn, waiting on a judges command or signal.

Suddenly a whistle blows. The crowd erupts in drunken cheers as the rope snaps taut!

Everybody roll a strength check!

Ruby quickly bent her back to it.
ST check: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9

Strength Check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Thorfinn roared and hauled at the rope, his muscles cording under the stress.
ST check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Strength Check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Things start off about as badly as Clover expected. With everyone else holding the rope and pulling at waist height, she finds the rope up as high as her head. She can't use the regular stance. Instead she faces fully forward with both arms stretched out fully to grip the rope, leaning back with all her weight. She has little leverage but at least she's using her legs instead of her arms as she tries to step backward.

Strength: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Caught off guard, Asher is almost yanked off his feet as the event begins. "Whoa!"

With the opposing team getting the jump, the flag and you guys are dragged ten feet towards the victory marker (2/3) before you manage to check the advance.

Ruby called out; "Everybody pull together!"
ST check: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Thorfinn grunted and hauled at the rope, his muscles cording under the stress.
ST check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Strength: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (7) + 0 = 7

"Oh for the love of -" Asher grunts, his feet sliding in the dirt. "Pull!"

Varys stumbles slightly but digs his heels in and tries to pay attention to the timing the others are going for.
Strength check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Unfortunately he can't coordinate with the others. As the rope burns his palms, he grumbles.

Wow, this is ridiculous.

"Oh sweet Shelyn, this is terrible.. " He mutters to the others on thier vessel [small]"Don't look at me while I sing. I've never done this before. It may slow them down"[smaller]

Grobradon's voice grows melodic ,and he makes sure one of the stronger rivals of the opposing ship crew can see him"Captain Ruby picked every person on this crew! Captain Ruby has faith that a win we might pull through! Fall into the pattern, to and fro, heave and ho, we can step it up up up, take that rope and go go go! Captain Ruby, Captain Ruby, don't you be dismayed! We get this together yet , it could be a winning day!"

Fascinate (Su): At 1st level, a bard can use his performance to cause one or more creatures to become fascinated with him. Each creature to be fascinated must be within 90 feet, able to see and hear the bard, and capable of paying attention to him. The bard must also be able to see the creatures affected. The Distraction of a nearby combat or other dangers prevents the ability from working. For every three levels a bard has attained beyond 1st, he can target one additional creature with this ability. Each creature within range receives a Will save (DC 10 + 1/2 the bard’s level + the bard’s Cha modifier) (so Will Save DC 15) to negate the effect. If a creature’s saving throw succeeds, the bard cannot attempt to fascinate that creature again for 24 hours. If its saving throw fails, the creature sits quietly and observes the performance for as long as the bard continues to maintain it. While fascinated, a target takes a –4 penalty on skill checks made as reactions, such as Perception checks. Any potential threat to the target allows the target to make a new saving throw against the effect. Any obvious threat, such as someone drawing a weapon, casting a spell, or aiming a weapon at the target, automatically breaks the effect. Fascinate is an enchantment (compulsion), mind-affecting ability. Fascinate relies on audible and visual components in order to function.

If he can also row at the same time he attempts to mesmerize.. then Str check is 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

The rope pull starts badly for you all as the rope is tugged forward pulse by pulse; it's hard for you to find a sense of rhythm and as Clover is lifted off the floor and the rope slips out of Varys' hands altogether, you think you'd like to change the positions a little if you could start over.
But at this moment, the opposing team, seemingly surprised at their success, bent over a little too far. The anchor's foot slipped and he crashed into the guy in front of him in an amusing cascade one after another.
The immediate fact is that you all fall over backward dragging the scarf over your line to victory!