Year 2950: The honored guest

[Vladim]

Scene 5: The oath

♫ The Banner Saga OST-Huddled in the Shadows ♫

Day of the Yule
Viglunding settlement
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

The snow swirled as soon as she stepped outside, creating a splendid scenery. Idunn had left the spear she had been given at Viglund's house, and she recovered her own, the weapon of her dead cousin, which she now used to lean against. She had been standing outside for quite some time now, observing quietly, and lost in thoughts.

There had been plenty of time to make note of the various sentries and the comings and goings of the various Viglundings. Idunn had not taken heed of such things upon her arrival, for she had been wary, and hasty to reunite with her companions. Even so, it was clear that everything was watched far more carefully now, despite the celebration. Such was to be expected after Elfwyn's escape. Still, as she watched, she thought she could make out some openings. Under cover of night, when the sky would be moonless or overcast, she could perhaps have a chance. But it would be a dangerous deed to undertake. Not only because she might be caught, but because she knew that, even if she succeeded, the repercussions would be horrible. Viglund's wrath would be terrible; certainly, he and all his folk would take this as definite proof of their guilt, and would use it against the rest of the Free Folk.

There had to be another way. She would have to convince them to let her go, or wait for her companions to recover her. She could not simply escape-not unless her peril was such that she could not remain.

She thought of Merovech, and of her memories of him. They were as precious as they were few; for truly, she had only known her cousin as a child, and then as a grown man, a Thane of Beorn, but only briefly. Of what had interceded, of his own tales and personal journeys, of such things she knew nothing; nothing save that which she had heard from others. The existence of Ragnar, his son, and of Ava, his wife, gave her heart, and she hoped one day to connect more deeply with them, but she herself was forever moving, forever on the road and on the wilderness.

How could she honor his memory? This impossible task had one been his, and he alone, it seemed, had retained the hope for peace between the Beornings and the Viglundings. He and Guthred. He had passed long before he could achieve it, his legacy cut short and unfulfilled. If she wished to honor him, this was her chance. She knew what she had to do: for she knew none other to continue the work of Merovech. This task, however daunting or hopeless, was now hers.

"Cousin," she thought as she stood alone in the winter chill, "I swear upon your spear and upon your memory that I will see it through, with all my strength, and if there is here yet a chance then I shall find it. For without peace, there can be no hope; neither for the filk of Beorn, nor Viglund. This I promise."

 

OOC

Obviously this is a Swear an Iron Vow move. Because you can never have enough vows. Let's call it "Bring peace between the Beornings and the Viglundings" (Extreme). Rolling +heart:

Swear a Vow:
Dice Roll: 1d6+2 2d10
d6 Results: 2 (Total = 4)
d10 Results: 9, 4 (Total = 13)

Edit: A miss! Of course it fits. I'll spend her momentum to turn this into a weak hit, then get +1 momentum and "begin with more questions than answers". Probably won't start working on this oath for a loooong time though...

[Vladim]

She had thought that swearing the oath here, in the heart of Viglund's petty kingdom, would have proven cathartic. Yet no sooner had she uttered the words in her mind than she felt black despair seize her. How could she achieve such a momentous, impossible task? After everything that she had witnessed, she knew that Viglund was a cruel tyrant. No peace could be had, not while Viglund sat on his carven throne, dreaming himself a king. No. With Guthred, perhaps. With the folk of these lands, maybe. But all seemed hopeless while things remained as they had been.

And what of her other duties? To her companions? To her peoples? To her deceased betrothed? She had sworn to seek vengeance and justice, but the Beast of Mirkwood roamed freely yet. And what had she done to stop it? Nothing-other duties had drawn her away from that path, and from her own folk. She felt a failure: worthless, powerless, without direction. And now, trapped: a glorified hostage in Viglund's hall.

Yet most useless of all was to lose heart like this. She brought to mind old Mab's counsel, and the dreams. There was a purpose to it all; it could not be spell or sorcery. There was a reason she was here. She felt it, deep in her heart. She did not yet know what it was, but she could see the path that lay before her. Perhaps not to its final destination, but the next few steps were laid bare before her, and she could but follow them. Not out of resignation, but because this was, if fact, what she must do.

She picked up the spear again, which had been left resting against a fence by her, and held it for a while. She reflected on it all for but a fleeting, final moment, before beginning to make her way back to the Great Hall.

It was time for the Yule celebrations to begin in earnest.

 

OOC

Let's see... It seems like I like ending each post with a Move, though it shouldn't really be a necessity. But I think it would be cool if she were asked to sit with the weorod. Since she beat Olaf, I'm going to rate it as Likely, and Ask the Oracle. 26+ is a yes.

Ask the Oracle:
Dice Roll: 1d100
d100 Results: 75

Edit: Yes!

[Vladim]

Scene 6: The weorod

Day of the Yule
Viglund's Great Hall
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

She had only just set foot inside the great hall; she had not had the chance to wander or find a seating by Guthred when she heard the call, summoning her.

"You!" cried the loud voice from a distant table, and at first Idunn remained uncertain as to whether she was the one being called. "Yes, you! The daughter of Theodwin! Come join us, woods-woman, kin of Thane Merovech! Come!"

Idunn turned to look at Thane Guthred, rather apprehensively for that matter, but her old friend merely nodded. This, then, seemed to be an invitation she could not turn down. Around the man that had issued the call sat all the members of Viglund's weorod, his war-band. They were all clad in their war-gear, carrying swords in sheathes that rested upon their belts. Their large table was set at a place of honor, not far from the one reserved for Viglund's Thanes, and another for his guests. Many thralls attended it.

Left with no choice, she approached slowly. When she finally stood before them, she could see that space on the drinking-bench had been cleared for her, and so she sat amongst them and introduced herself. She spoke of the late Thane, her cousin, and of the Woodmen of Wilderland, her peoples, and of her skill as huntress and as an emissary, but she did not mention Beorn. By now she knew that many harboured resentment towards the bear-lord.

After she had sat amongst them, she heard their names and their tales. They were a proud folk, loud and boastful, and they drank... they drank heavily, calling for ale often, and in great quantities, as if to outdo each other. And she was not left out of it: ale was brought for her, in big foaming mugs, with the implicit expectations that she should join them, should she wish to earn their respect.

 

OOC

Ok, there's no rules for a drinking contest, so I'll make this one a Face Danger move. If she fails, she may need to suffer some kind of negative consequence, but if she succeeds she might gain more respect. Rolling +iron as this is endurance.

Face Danger:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 4, 2 (Total = 6)

Edit: Strong hit. +1 Momentum.

[Vladim]

She had doubted herself at first, but she had performed admirably. Perhaps years of travelling and adventuring had hardened her constitution, or given her a strong stomach. Whatever the case, she seemed able to keep up with the drinking, if not the boasting, but she was content to commit to quiet observation.

At last the talk turned to orcs, and to their struggles against them. The matter interested her, and so she leaned in and lent an ear to each speaker in turn as they boasted about how many they had slain. When her turn came at last, she too chose speech instead of silence, and told tales of her encounters and victories. She also spoke of Thane Merovech, and of how he had slain many, but how he too in turn was slain by a stealthy attack. A cup was raised to his memory, and to the memory of Viglund's son, who too had fallen in battle against enemies.

"I do not understand," she admitted at length, openly yet naively, "your folk and my own share the same struggles and the same enemies. Why not rally against the orcs of the mountains?"

 

OOC

Not completely sure about the move, as I suspect she suspects the underlying reasons, but perhaps each Viglunding believes in different things. So I'll make it a Gather Information and see if she gets something useful that she does not know.

Gather Information:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 2, 7 (Total = 9)

Edit: Weak hit. The information complicates the quest. +1 Momentum.

[Vladim]

One of Viglund's warriors, a man named Thunar, who seemed more senior than most, was the one to reply to her question. "Beorn hates us, just as he hates our chief. So do most of his folk. They call us slavers and warmongers. Even your cousin, the late Thane, spoke against our customs when he was here. Do you not think the same?"

Idunn fell silent, hesitating. She had half-expected such an answer, but it was the strength of the resentment that threw her for a moment. "It is not so," she said, attempting to counter-argue, "Beorn and his folk do not hate you, yet this custom is yours alone, and so not all can understand it or accept it."

"And what of you?" retorted Thunar.

No sooner had he uttered the question than she felt all eyes upon her, and all ears as well. It was a... delicate situation. But the huntress was no silver-tongued emissary. Perhaps Beorn's Thanes ought to have chosen more wisely.

"It is a necessary evil," she admitted half-heartedly, and yet instantly regretted it, and corrected herself by amending that statement "...or so Viglund's folk believe. For this is a harsh land-this much is true-yet there must be a better way to it. It is not what I would have done."

Thunar fell silent for a moment, before retorting with the obvious question: "And what would you have done, daughter of Theodwin?"

She did not reply instantly. In truth, she had not an answer. At length she had to admit to it. "I... do not know, and I cannot say, for this is your land. But I would seek a different path. Seek alliances. Call upon the aid of other folk. The dwarves and the Dalish, they both share an interest in keeping these lands safe. For trade and travel. And the orcs have been diminished after their defeat. There is hope in holding them back. It must be better than... this."

She thought: "Better than taking the customs of the orcs and the hill-folk as yours, and dealing with the defeated as they would with theirs." But she dared not say it. For she feared that such a challenge would offend them, and rightly so.

 

OOC

I'm thinking Compel to make them see her point (even if it's done begrudgingly, which I think it will be) using +heart. Since she is not asking them to *do* anything, per se, the consequences of failure should probably be general displeasure or dismissiveness, but not asking her to go on a quest or anything. We'll see.

Compel:
Dice Roll: 1d6+2 2d10
d6 Results: 1 (Total = 3)
d10 Results: 8, 3 (Total = 11)

Edit: A miss! Could burn momentum, but let's go for something dramatic and keep it as a miss.

[Vladim]

Thunar sighed audibly, making his disappointment plain and evident. "Then you do not understand us yet," he said, adding: "despite your friendship with Thane Guthred. The North stands alone; none of the folk that you have mentioned care for us, though our existence here allows them to reap great benefits. Too quick they are to judge us for our customs; too quick to dismiss us as cruel."

The huntress paused for a moment, as if contemplating which words to choose. She was not much of an orator, and as an envoy, she was not savvy. Several thoughts spun in her mind. "Is that what your chieftain has told you?" and "Have you even attempted to call on them for aid? Too proud are Viglund's folk; alone they strive, but not of necessity, but of spite and pig-headedness."

Yet even she knew that such words were not for this time and this place. As she tarried, more eyes fell upon her, as if expecting, demanding even, a response. She could not remain silent for longer. She contemplated for another moment; at length she spoke what might strike a compromise between courtesy and truth.

"It is as you say, perhaps..." sha admitted, "...I am still much unlearned in your ways and your customs. Yet your lord has decreed that I stay here, as your guest, for a while, until the matter of the thrall is sorted. Show me, then, the things that I must learn, so that I can understand your folk and their struggles. My kinsman, the Thane, sought to bring friendship between your folk and mine. He has passed, and so has his duty, which is now mine. Show me the way."

 

OOC

Another compel?

Compel:
Dice Roll: 1d6+2 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 5)
d10 Results: 6, 10 (Total = 16)

Edit: Another miss, of course!

[Vladim]

"Nay," replied he instantly, "such is neither my right nor duty. You will have to find your way alone, huntress, for I am but a mere warrior: neither Thane nor chieftain. Such matters are for them."

Quickly he sank back to his cup, and would speak no more on the matter, and he seemed less animated than before, and less talkative as well, as if what had been spoken weighed heavily on him. Idunn's efforts to get anything beyond what he had said were thus doomed to failure.

Yet Viglar, Viglund's son, interjected soon after Thunar. He seemed drunk, and eager to lighten the heavy mood, and asked of the huntress to retell the tale of how she had fought with Olaf, and won. She obliged, and Viglund's son was much entertained, despite her bland description, and laughed mightily at the vanquished man's expense, throwing in an occasional insult, or petty remark.

Soon the exchange with Thunar was forgotten by most-most, that is, but the man himself, who remained quiet and introspective, and barely reacted to the jests. He merely drank.

Idunn thought that this Great Hall seemed to possess this strange property: to turn all folk under its roof to heavy drinkers.

[Vladim]

 

On they laughed. On they drunk. On they spoke, and boasted, and jested. Time passed thusly amongst these proud warriors, who seemed to seek with each opportunity to challenge and outdo each other. When she was invited to speak, she spoke. Otherwise she held her silence.

Then at last the ritual that had been prepared well in advance begun. It was a well-orchestrated affair, executed in theatrical manner. Viglund sat in the center, both an overseer and director. One by one, Thanes and warriors were summoned forth, and before him they swore oaths of allegiance and duty, making them anew, or perhaps, for some, for the first time. In this, the riches of the chief were at last revealed, and Viglund rewarded them handsomely, with swords and sword-rings for the warriors, now bound by duty, and gold to others.

The warriors themselves strove to outdo each other yet again, now even more vehemently, and spoke of their great exploits, many of which, the huntress thought, were much exaggerated. They spoke with pride of those which they had slain, and of how many, and they named their weapons and gave their lineages.

In short, it was a great performance.

At length it came to be that Unfreth was called forth. He was a Thane's son, but young, much younger than the rest, and yet he wished to swear an oath, and join the weorod; or, if he did not wish it, then such must have been his duty. As he approached apprehensively, and swore his oaths with a voice that had not fully broken, many about him took the opportunity to laugh. Unfreth had not slain any; he had not proven himself, and thus commanded little respect. For most , he remained a boy still.

Then Viglund called for silence, and commanded for Saviga, the goblin, to be called. So it was done; the youth was given a sword, and told to slay the creature if he wished to earn his place. Unfreth appeared uncertain; fear was on his countenance, yet he feared disobeying even more. The crowd roared in excitement at the prospect of bloodshed, and of the slaying of an orc. Yet Viglar protested, for Saviga was his cup-bearer, and a jester of sorts, but any complaints he voiced were drowned out by the shouts of excitement. Bets were being placed already, and a new circle was made.

At last Viglar had managed to reach his servant, and he gave him his knife. Clearly, he valued Saviga over Unfreth. With the odds thus equalised, many were now reconsidering their wagers, and getting into arguments with each other.

Idunn stood amongst them, observing all in disbelief, aghast at such a cruel custom. Her eyes drifted through the crowd, and for a moment it seemed to her as if she stood amongst orcs, not Men. The spell did not last long, though, and swiftly she sought Guthred's company, fearing that the worst might happen.

 

OOC

Let's ask the oracle. 50+ means Saviga is wounded; otherwise, it's Unfreth.

Ask the Oracle:
Dice Roll: 1d100
d100 Results: 75

[Vladim]

The fight was not a protracted affair. Despite his fear, or perhaps because of it, the boy lashed quickly and aggressively against the goblin. The latter soon discovered that the knife he had been given did him little good-it was much too short to be of use. Blood was shed, and the crowd was pleased, and surely Unfreth would have slain Saviga, albeit reluctantly, had Viglar not interfered and, despite his father's protestations, rescued his cup-bearer by removing him from the scene.

And so Unfreth was victorious, and he took his place at the table of the weorod with much cheering and applause.

Meanwhile, the huntress reached Guthred, but she was too late-much too late to put an end to the fight, even if Guthred had such power. In truth, he did not, and could only watch the scene passively as it unfolded. Idunn gave him a long, cold and disapproving glance. A glance into which all her previous criticisms and protestations were distilled. Guthred answered with one of his own, a stare that said that he was responsible for none of it.

When at last some semblance of order was restored, everyone returned to their tables, and the celebration was continued. Now Viglund addressed the Free Cottars, and promised them publiclyany things: wealth, and glory, and might. He reminded them of the Viglundings' strength and valour. It was a speech made to entice and threaten, both at the same time.

Idunn observed their reactions, trying to understand where their loyalties lay.

 

OOC

Gather Information:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 9, 9 (Total = 18)

Edit: Not just a miss, but a miss with doubles! And momentum does nothing! Cool!

[Vladim]

Scene 7: A scheme's fruition

Day of the Yule
Viglund's Great Hall
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

The huntress had been entirely unprepared for what followed. She had expected that the Free Cottars would heed Viglund's words, acknowledge them, consider them, perhaps deliberate. Perhaps a few of them would accept the offer in time. But... that was not at all what happened.

Instead, she watched to her horror and utter dismay as one by one, all the Free Cottars approached and bent the knee, and accepted everything that was given them, everything that was asked of them. She could not fathom it, and was paralyzed with disbelief. She had laboured to find ways and means by which to escape; in considering only her own fate, she had utterly forgotten the Free Cottars, and so the greater issues at hand had remained invisible to her. Now the scales fell from her eyes, and the revelation filled her with dread. Viglund's threats and bribery had proven effective. His scheme had worked. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

If her cousin had been here, he would have seen through all of this. He would have prepared. He might have been able to prevent it. Alas, not her. She had been blindsighted by her own plight. She looked to Viglund from afar. The chief's countenance rarely betrayed any emotion, but presently there was gladness upon it-a subtle hint of it, but a clear one. She looked with loathing and did nothing.

The celebrations continued after that. Indeed, the mood was repaired somewhat after the oaths were sworn, as if a heavy cloud had been lifted from the Great Hall. But not from Idunn's heart. If anything, it had become more oppressive. She could not muster the stomach for it, and so she retired at the earliest opportunity.

[Vladim]

Night came and went, and with it the festivities, though some hearty folk continued throughout. As for Idunn, she awoke, or was rather woken, ere the break of day, by an over-eager Olaf, who came knocking at Guthred's door. He had come seeking her, for he had promised to take her hunting to the nearby woods, despite the deep winter.

Idunn arose slowly and rubbed her forehead. She was groggy, and had a nasty headache, no doubt from all the drinking that she had done the day before, with the weorod. Her bruised leg felt better, thankfully, but all that had happened last night seemed like a bad dream, or a distant reality. When she recalled it, she wished again that she had not remained here. She wondered about her companions. She hoped they were well. This was no season to travel in.

 

OOC

Let's ask the oracle a few things. First, is Olaf alone? He is a little thick, but I think it would be unlikely. Let's say 25+ he has come with friends

Ask the Oracle:
Dice Roll: 1d100
d100 Results: 9

Second, would Guthred wake up? I'd also rate it as likely (25+):

 

Ask the Oracle:
Dice Roll: 1d100
d100 Results: 69

[Vladim]

"Who it is at this early hour?!" said Guthred with mounting frustration. He too had been awoken by the knocks, and though he had stomached his ales better than Idunn had, he was much unimpressed by this early intrusion. When Olaf finally explained himself, he was at the verge of sending the man off.

"Are you in your right mind, or did that head-blow of hers turn you into a fool?" was the first thing Guthred set to him, as he gave him a strange look. "She cannot simply go missing without warning! Do you even understand the situation?" Olaf lowered his head; clearly, he had not considered any of this. "You need permission; at the very least, you need to tell someone, if you don't want to get her into bigger trouble than she already is!"

He turned to look at Idunn and furrowed his brows, and added: "Surely you understand this?"

Idunn nodded, and looked at the two men. She did. She simply had not expected that Olaf would seek her out so early, and so soon, and arrived unaccompanied to boot. A thought crossed her mind. She could have used this as an opportunity to escape. She could use Olaf's unwise plan as an excuse. But if she left now, the aftermath would be terrible. Even if she succeeded. Especially if she succeeded. She could not do this-not to Guthred, not to Aestid, and not to what few good folk remained here. Not to Olaf, even. She had to find a better way.

"Olaf," she said gently, in contrast to her friend the Thane, "I appreciate your coming here, but do you not understand my position here? I am as much a guest as I am a hostage, and so I must remain, until the matter of the escaped thrall is resolved. I cannot stray far from here, not least without permission. There is no need to be hasty. Inform your chief of your intentions. If he grants you permission, then few things would gladden me more here than joining you in the hunt."

At last Olaf seemed to understand. Perhaps the ale had clouded his judgement, or perhaps it was that injury from the duel, as Guthred had said. He seemed apologetic yet he promised to return after securing permission.

[Vladim]

When at last Olaf had left them, Guthred cut some bread and some cheese and dried meat: some for himself, and some for his ward, to make a simple early breakfast. He lay all those things at the table and, between nibbles, he conversed with his guest in his typical manner.

"So you are planning to escape?" he asked at last, not in an accusatory tone, but rather matter-of-factly. He turned from his bread to look at her, uncertain if he wanted to have the truth of it.

Idunn stirred. She was stunned only momentarily; she knew the Thane, and his keen mind shouldn't have surprised her. But though he was a Viglunding and a Thane, he was also her friend. She did not fear divulging the truth; at any length, not to him. And besides, she had little to hide.

"I am not planning for anything." she replied at length, somewhat defensively. "But I did not plan to be held here either. I was not prepared enough-that was my error. Call it ensuring that no more surprises are encountered on this journey. Your chieftain seems rather fond of them."

At this Guthred shook his head. "Things are watched far more closely now. It will not be easy. You would endanger yourself, your companions, and your peoples. You may not like it here, but I have sworn to keep you safe, and so you shall, while you remain here. Better wait until the matter is sorted, or until another opportunity presents itself."

Idunn nodded. Of course she agreed. And yet could Guthred make his promise beyond all doubt? He knew him to be an honourable man, but she could not predict Viglund, and neither could Guthred. Still, she merely listened as the Thane spoke again.

"I will help you secure your hunt. Until then, stay. Make friends. Learn what you can. If things worsen, we can reconsider your escape. But come to me first! I am your friend. I would not betray you."

She nodded. As much as she wished to be reunited with her friends, she knew that Guthred was right. Perhaps there was something she could do here yet. But first she would have to earn the Viglundings' trust.

[Vladim]

 

Scene 8: Sojourn

♫ The Pathless OST-From the antlers ♫

A few days after the Yule
Viglund's Great Hall
Company location: Black Tom's farmstead

 

The days came and went. The Free Cottars returned to their holdings and their farmsteads soon after the celebration, giving Idunn little chance to speak to them-she had only managed to speak to Hrothulf, Heva's husband, and only briefly. As for the celebrations, they diminished sharply in intensity not long after the Yule, and things returned to normality, or at least whatever counted as normal in Viglund's Great Hall. But this remained the heart of winter, and there was little the Viglundings could do outdoors, and so they remained within, making repairs and preparations.

Idunn heeded Guthred's counsel, and tried to mingle as best she could. She had begun to forge a name for herself on the Yule; now, she hid her dissatisfaction deep within, and tried to make merry with them when such behavior was called for. She drank when they drank, she shared news from the South, she told tales from her journeys. When there was a riddle contest she joined in. When there were tests of strength and skill, also. Other times, she merely listened, absorbing all the news, the customs, the information, even their manner of speech. If there was any resentment within her, it was reserved for their chieftain; with the rest she was amicable.

One ray of hope in this strange predicament was the return of her strange, life-like dreams. She had another, not many days after the Yule. This time, all the companions shared it. She simply knew that this had to be reality; that the experience had truly been a shared one. And what a magnificent dream it was! Such song, such stars, such beauty! At the very least, she knew that they were safe yet. That was not nothing.

As for Viglund... She knew that he had sent spies, for she had spied on them herself, not many days after the Yule. She knew little of their intent and purpose, for she could neither follow them nor speak to them. But she guessed that they were sent southwards, and had no mind to contradict their direction. Her friends were bound northwards, on their fool's errand. So perhaps they needn't trouble themselves with Viglund's schemes any longer. The Vales of Gundabad held enough dangers as it was.

 

OOC

Ok, first securing an advantage with wits to use cunning and mingle with them and be amicable. Riddle contests, storytelling, etc.

Secure an Advantage:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 2 (Total = 6)
d10 Results: 8, 3 (Total = 11)

Edit: Weak hit, +1 momentum. Then, sojourn to pass several days:

 

Sojourn:
Dice Roll: 1d6+2 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 6)
d10 Results: 6, 5 (Total = 11)

Edit: Burning momentum to turn it into a strong hit. +2 Spirit, +2 Momentum. I think this could also count as reaching a milestone in her starting quest (building trust, causing the Viglundings to drop their guard, etc).

[Vladim]

Scene 9: The hunt

Eight days after the Yule
Eaves of Northern Mirkwood
Company location: Between the Sceadudene and the Vales of Gundabad

Then the day came one morning when the promised hunt would at last take place. This time, she was prepared for it. Many of the men of Viglund's weorod were to join, for hunting was a favourite pastime of theirs. Even the man himself-Viglund, their chief-would accompany them. As a guest, Idunn was allowed to partake, for she had told many a tale about her own skill in hunting, and many now wished to put such claims to the test. Olaf would accompany her, for his was the initial idea.

The folk of Viglund were not wood-wise, and rarely dared to brave the perils of Northern Mirkwood. Even though these lands were furthest from the baleful influence of Dol Guldur, and not infested by orcs or spiders, and even though there was good hunting to be had here, many dangers still lay within. Wolves, boars, black bears... the Viglundings knew of them and avoided them, hunting instead under the eaves of the forest. Besides, it was winter-barely the season to venture too far. Yet the presence of a Woods-woman amongst them made them boastful, for they had heard her tales about her hunts and her folk and of Mirkwood, and they seemed to dare her, almost, to go deeper.

 

OOC

Let's make this into a Delve. It's a good opportunity to try the mechanics.

The goal (initially at least) is to bring down a quarry, something impressive ideally, to make a better name for herself. If she succeeds, that's another milestone on her escape vow.

The theme/domain is Wild Tanglewood. I think this fits best for Northern Mirkwood.

The rank... Let's make it formidable. I'm curious to see how things play at higher difficulty.

As for denizens... I'd say wargs, crows, black bears, boars... Perhaps a rare "elder warg" too? I'll need to check the book.

Here's the Delve site worksheet:

Site Name: Northern Mirkwood
Objective: Secure worthy quarry
Theme: Wild
Domain: Tanglewood
Rank: Formidable
Progress: □□□□□□□□□□
Denizens:
Very Common (1-27): Small game
Common (28-41): Viglunding hunter(s)
Common (42-55): Wolf (Dangerous foe)
Common (56-69): Boar (Dangerous foe)
Uncommon (70-75): Crows
Uncommon (76-81): Wolf pack (Formidable foe)
Uncommon (82-87): Boar (Dangerous foe)
Uncommon (88-93): Black bear (Formidable foe)
Rare (94-95): Orcs (Dangerous foe)
Rare (96-97): Great Beast (Extreme foe)
Rare (98-99): Anomaly (select from book)
Unforseen (100): Spirit