Year 2950: A Darkness in the Marshes

Diofant · April 10

Gramtyng stood, anguished, over the body of the man that died. It all seemed so pointless. They broke from their mission twice now, despite clear, explicit instructions. Both times, it was kindness that drove them... and certainly, the first time was successful. But who's to say if this man would be saved with the liquor? Or if Dahr-Ol would be on the ground now if he still had it? Where was Magric? Could they even fulfill their mission, now?

OOC/Actions

Edited April 13 by Diofant (see edit history)

Eric · April 11

Ernstyr of Rhosgobel

"We will need two poles, like the haft of my axe. Lace rope about them and we will have an adequate litter, at least sufficient to bear him away from this place. Even if the orcs are slow to return, there are other creatures drawn by the scent of blood and death." On the far side of the battle, Ernstyr could vaguely hear Cecil consoling the man whose death they had endeavored in vain to save. It was vanity, perhaps, that drove them to such risks--vanity to think they could give life to those who deserved, and to take it from those who they felt did not. Now all that could be done was to preserve the strength of the company, in the hopes that their expedition might inform Radagast and bring a future, more successful mission to root out the evil in the swamp.

Vladim · April 11

The company hastened to follow the Woodman's instructions. Elfwyn, eager to do all that she could to aid Dahr-Ol, and Magric-who thought it prudent to leave the scene of slaughter as swiftly as he could-aided Ernstyr. The wounded, unconscious Beorning was, before long, placed on the makeshift stretcher they had constructed, and they bore him away, to what they hoped would be a safer place.

There was neither the time nor the free hands needed to do much about the slain orcs or the unfortunate Walar. The latter could not be buried-not without risking a lengthy stay on the battlefield-but some dignity was afforded to his body. He was carried away, set aside from his foes and hidden in the reeds. During this, it was noted that the man had been scourged: his back bore the wounds of many beatings, some older and some more fresh. Orc-work: there was little doubt about it.

No efforts were made to do anything with the orcs, who were left to the wolves and the carrion-birds.

The sun was setting when they decided they could go on no more, burdened as they were with Dahr-Ol's body. They found as safe a hiding-place as they could hope for amongst the undergrowth, and saw to their wounded companion's needs and took turns to rest.

OOC

I moved us a little forward as I think it's no fun if @thesloth cannot participate; plus, I don't think there's much left to be done on the battlefield.

Dahr-Ol will return to consciousness in the middle of the night, so feel free to resume posting thesloth.

I'll set up a poll to tally votes about what you want to do next.

Suzuki Stumpy · April 12

Barin Greycloak

As his foe fell to the ground, dead, Barin sank to his knees in the mud, leaning his forehead on the haft of his axe.

Breathing heavily, the stocky Dwarf's last reserves of strength finally gave out and he remained there, oblivious to the frantic ministrations of his companions. He knew not in that moment whether Dahr-Ol, Elfwyn or the man they had initially tried to save were alive or dead and had not the energy to care.

It was only when Ernstyr began instructing the party on constructing a litter for the Beorning that he realised that his friend was still clinging on to life and that the company was preparing to move out.

Stumbling exhausted, to his feet, he followed in the wake of his companions, Núr helping him along with his kit which he was too tired to care about until the company decided to stop and rest for the night. Doing what he could to help conceal themselves he eventually sank down into the black depths of oblivion and slept ...

thesloth · April 13

Dahr-Ol of the Beornings

Late in the night Dahr-Ol thrashed violently and rolled over grasping for his axe. "This will be your last breath...." he wheezed more than shouted as he returned to consciousness. A coughing fit kept him from completing whatever threat he had meant to hurl at his now dead opponents.

Axe stats: Damage 9/Edge 10/Injury 20

Elfwynn was alert and by his side in an instant. Deftly she shoved his axe out of arms reach with her left hand while she kept him from standing with her right. One would think she might have been expecting something similar to occur. "Be calm. Your enemies are dead and you live. We are all here. Rest, you are gravely wounded."

Diofant · April 13

Gramtyng, son of Fastred

Lighting a fire seemed unwise. The Rohirrim stared grimly at his new blade. He cut down two orcs, and what did that do? Who did that help? What were they to do now? Continue the mission, with Dahr-Ol in this state? It was absurd. A message couldnt be sent to Radagast, wherever he was now. Perhaps Dahr-Ol could be sent back with someone, and whoever was left would continue the mission? He glanced to the side. Not with Elfwyn. She was barely better off than he, after shielding him with her body. Barin was not well off, either. He'd seen him struck many a time, though he tried as best he could to shield his flank. Cecil... Seemed fine. Ernstyr had been in the back line, so he was not struck. Magric... Where was Magric, in the fight? "Magric?" He called out, keeping his voice low to not disturb the companions.

OOC/Actions

Vladim · April 13

Darkness had fallen already, but the trapper was not far from their camp. As soon as he had heard Gramtyng's call, he came to him, but there was a look of concern on his face, and he pressed a raised finger against the tip of his nose, as if to say: "Quiet!"

He had spent the fight firmly in the rearguard, remaining with the archers-but as to how many arrows he had shot, Gramtyng could not tell, having fought in the front himself. Truth be told, the orcs had shaken him to his core, and now he seemed more fearful and weary than ever, and eager to put all of this behind him and set out for Mountain-Hall. And although he had not set as much that clearly, both his words and actions in the aftermath of the fight indicated it beyond any doubt.

Modest_Proposal · April 14

Cecil Brandybuck

A bitterness swelled in Cecil against his companions - of their eagerness to fight. What drove them to charge? Glory in death? Bloodthirst? Delusion? It had nearly ended them. The Beorning laid beside him, shattered and wheezing. He put his hand on the man's chest, careful to avoid his gash.

"Dahr-Ol, we could not save him. The man who ran." He surprised himself with the flatness of his voice. He felt fear and hope at a dull distance. "His name was Walar."

What was their fate? There was no guarantee of safety at Mountain Hall. Orcs stirred there as they left. Would there be anything to return to? The more he thought, the farther from home he became. His chest tightened. He could see their terrible faces, black and bleeding. He was convinced of it - Mountain Hall had fallen. They were alone. He tipped his head, and with only enough care to whisper, sang to himself.

A wind did turn

Down Red Horn Pass

As I was sleeping

In the grass

It tumbled over

Mountains tall

And or’ the Walls

Of Mountain Hall

Title

I'm still enjoying making tracks of Cecil's songs on Udio, so I've attached one to this post. If anyone has a problem with them, I'll stop. I know it's silly.

I write the lyrics unaided. And with my care, Udio puts them to music. Since they have different singing voices, you might consider some of them to be renditions.

Edited April 14 by Modest_Proposal (see edit history)

Vladim · April 17

Chapter 3: The passage of the marshes

Scene 18: Return to Traders' Isle

Time: Early summer 2950 T.A. Twenty-nine days since the departure from Rhosgobel. Morning.

Location: Traders' Isle

That night the companions conversed and determined the best course of action: to gather their strength and return to whence they had come, falling back to Traders' Isle to lick their wounds. For it was clear to them that Dahr-Ol would not recover fully in these foul marshes. Especially with the orcs about: it could soon prove impossible to avoid detection for much longer.

By the morning the Beorning was showing the first signs of improvement. He had hardly recovered his full strength, but he could at least walk, even if it was with a limp, and thus no longer needed his companions to carry him. This proved fortuitous, as it would have been impossible to carry him through the swamp. Elfwyn remained by his side, ever loyal, helping him when he needed it, and the reputation of Beorn's kin as hardy folk was shown true in her companion and friend.

Still, the shield-maiden bore a wound of her own, and the going proved slow. They went the same way that they had come through, only now they knew it better. Thus, what was lost in slowing their pace was gained by their recently acquired familiarity with the swamps.

Perhaps it was Radagast's blessing, or some unexpected good fortune, but they encountered no orcs as they made their way back to their boats.

After three days, they found themselves again on the deserted isle. This time, they saw no tents and no Winfrith: only a small mound of stones where his tent had been. Dahr-Ol was making a slow recovery, but it would take many days of rest for that wound of his to heal fully...

OOC

Just to make my stance clear on AI content, I don't mind it-I think the technology itself is fascinating and I am listening to a lot of discussions about it. But I think there's still many thorny issues associated with its use, so where I can (for example, for recreational things like RPGs), I will avoid it if.

It's also another thing to do and I don't want to go down too many rabbit holes pursuing AI generated content.

That being said, if folks want to post AI-generated stuff, I don't mind as long as it's within site rules (obviously).

Non-wounder PCs recover 6 endurance during the 3-day journey back to Traders' Isle. Wounded PCs (Dahr-Ol) gain only 3 (that's including the one gained on the first night). I will update the stats in the first post.

Edit: That puts everyone in full health (and, where applicable, recovered from weariness) except Dahr-Ol, who will continue healing at the rate of 1 endurance point per night (since you're still 'on the road' and Traders' Isle no longer has its tent-town settlement). That means that it will take another 26 days for him to recover fully and get rid of his wound.

Elfwyn could use some healing too (Healing TN 16 roll).

I'll leave it up to you to decide how many days to spend here, and what to do next.

Suzuki Stumpy · April 17

Barin Greycloak

For three days, Barin stumbled along with his companions. Three long, slow, agonizing days back through the marshes to where they had left the boats previously and then paddling back up the Great River, against the current, to a now deserted Trader's Isle.

His spirit was lifted slightly by the recovery of his friend - at least to the point where he could walk himself. This proved to Barin that Dahr-Ol was indeed made of stern stuff and was at least out of immediate danger of death. His injuries would still require tending though, and time. Elfwynn was also suffering, but putting on a brave face for all concerned.

As the days passed, Barin felt his own strength beginning to return, and once back at the Isle, he spent his days between tending to Dahr-Ol as best he could - albeit this mostly restricted to spending time with the big man - conferring with Núr who still, for all his suffered hardships, spent time wanting to know more about the geography in this part of the world and tending to his maps. Finally, he spent some further time sitting by the small mound of stones that had been left. Their meaning was obvious - and on finding a suitably large rock nearby, he began the slow process of shaping it into what he hoped would be a fitting memorial to Winfrith's grandfather.

thesloth · April 17

Dahr-Ol of the Beornings

A thoroughly miserable Dahr-Ol lay on the stretcher, lay in the boat, or limped along as he could within a day or two. He noted Barin's marker for the old man. It was a thing worth doing.

"Cecil, help me down to the river, we should do the same for the man, Walar. Mayhap one of his kin will wander by here.

Perhaps we can convince Gramtyng to scratch Walar's name and the fact that his death was avenged on the stone...." he wheezed

Axe stats: Damage 9/Edge 10/Injury 20

Elfwynn was quiet during the retreat up the river and payed careful attention to the far shores of the river. Even on the island her spear was always at hand. She moved with a limp, and more slowly to be sure. But never without her weapon.

"The orcs drove the river folk from this isle. We should not consider it a long term refuge.

The sorcerers often tell a tale about this river. They claim to have slain a mighty king of men who fled a battle. I've no idea how true it is. The orcs will fear the reaving we did. But their masters will desire to relive an old glory."

Modest_Proposal · April 21

Cecil Brandybuck

Dahr-Ol's words brought a bit of color back in Cecil's cheeks. He was a good man, despite his recklessness. Whatever their fate - no matter what was won or lost or the mistakes made - they would be done amongst friends.

Elfwynn's words did much, however, to reverse his spirits.

"He will not be avenged until whatever brought those things here is destroyed or... driven away. From here and from Mountain Hall and wherever else they are crawling." He looked away. "Nothing living can be that cruel without a reason. Even spiders and wolves eat. I just don't understand."

After a moment, he stood up with an open hand and a terse smile. "Let's find Gramtyng."

Edited April 21 by Modest_Proposal (see edit history)

Suzuki Stumpy · April 21

Barin Greycloak

As time passed on the island and Dahr-Ol's wounds healed, Barin recalled Elfwynn's words:

"The orcs drove the river folk from this isle. We should not consider it a long term refuge. The sorcerers often tell a tale about this river. They claim to have slain a mighty king of men who fled a battle. I've no idea how true it is. The orcs will fear the reaving we did. But their masters will desire to relive an old glory."

The following evening as the company settled around the fire he recounted what he knew of that tale...

"You mentioned the tale of Isildúr." He began, directing his gaze to the Northlander. "Few of the folk of men recall the details of the tale in this age, outside those wise souls entrusted with the keeping of histories. But we Dwarves, have longer memories."

Lowering his voice, forcing all to lean in and listen to his tale, he began...

"Isildúr was indeed a great king of men - ruling over the kingdoms of Gondor in the South and Arnor to the West." With a nod to Cecil he added, "In fact, your homelands were under his rule master Hobbit."

"As the tales recall, Isildúr and his company were making their way to visit the house of Elrond on the far side of the mountains and were beset by Orcs on the trek northwards, near what we know today as the Gladden fields. The histories tell that the menfolk were vastly outnumbered, but staged a valiant defense, repelling the Orcs with their shield wall tactics but alas, the foul creatures regrouped and came again under the cover of darkness and slaughtered the company to a man. Isildúr however, managed somehow to evade the attack - some say that he was advised to leave his men and attempt escape before the Orcs came back, others that, heartbroken at the death of his son he fled the battle. Whatever the truth of that tale, he made it to the river, but the swift current carried him back down the river towards the marshes he was attempting to escape, and espied by Orc scouts, was slain by their archers."

Barin took a moment's pause to draw on the stem of his pipe and take a mouthful of water from his flask before addressing his next comment back to Elfwynn.

"Whatever the truth of the matter, you are right - the Orcs will be incensed enough to give chase once they realise what has occurred within the marshes, but I doubt they will be of sufficient mind to come this far up the river and cross to this isle. Even their overseers are simple enough creatures that if there is no immediate chance of battle they'll quickly lose interest, and have no real taste for histories. Especially ones that occurred thousands of years ago, so I think we're safe enough here for now. We will, however, need to exercise caution should we return that way to complete our mission."

OOC

Using folklore to recount an abridged tale of Isildúr's fate at the Gladden fields...

Eric · April 21

Ernstyr of Rhosgobel

Ernstyr nodded slowly throughout the tale. His attention was focused on binding wounds, checking dressings, and ensuring festering rot would not seep in from the swamps to his companions' wounds. His eyes are full of doubt. "It is a fine tale of distant deeds and shadow's treachery. But regardless of whether the orcs will come or no, it could be weeks before Dahr-Ol is fit to fight again. We are not supplied to wait out his healing here." Tying off a clean cloth upon Elfwynn's wound, he nodded in satisfaction. While he could not himself avenge Walar today, let alone the mythic Isildúr, he could do his best to keep the company alive so that tomorrow might afford such a chance.

Vladim · April 23

That first day at Traders' isle passed in peace. There was a haunting quality to this place, once so full of colorful tents and peoples and loud voices. This was more apparent to those that had set foot in times prior: Ernstyr and Gramtyng, Belgo and Magric. Who could tell if the river-folk were ever destined to return to it?

Still, a monument for Walar was raised. If his peoples ever came back, they would remember him. Perhaps a song in the distant Shire would bring to mind the memories and feelings experienced in this place, if Cecil were to return there-and hold onto such things from his journeys.

By the shore, Ernstyr tender to Elfwyn's wound. It had at first seemed minor compared to Dahr-Ol's-a gash on the spear-bearing forearm, which her shield had failed to protect against. Now, three days after the orc encounter in the marshes, her wound still remained open, stubbornly refusing any treatment. Still-the Woodman tried; it was all he could do.

OOC

I need to know what the company will do next-remain here until Dahr-Ol is fully healed (so, for 26 days) or return to Mountain-Hall (a journey of about a week, I think) and decide what to do from there (perhaps eventually returning to the marshes).

@Eric that Healing roll is a failure, which means that Elfwyn will retain her injury until the end of the adventure. Mechanically, she is in no danger of dying (though narratively the PCs should not know that) but she will no longer grant any advantages to Dahr-Ol until the end of the adventure, when she recovers.

You can, however-if you want-spend a point of Hope (or Fellowship, or Courage-it's your choice) to add your Favored Heart rating (+6) to the result (10), just barely making the TN (16). This would make Ernstyr's attempts at Healing succesful.

The choice is yours, but do let me know if you decide to burn the point of Hope (or Fellowship, or Courage). Saving it is also fine!

Text_1	Text_2	Text_3	Bold_1	Accent_1	Mood_1
Warm_1	Warm_2	Warm_3	Bold_2	Accent_2	Mood_2
Cool_1	Cool_2	Cool_3	Bold_3	Accent_3	Mood_3
Bright_1	Bright_2	Bright_3	Bold_4	Accent_4	Mood_4

Year 2950: A Darkness in the Marshes

Recommended Posts

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Link to comment

Share on other sites