Shadows over Sjoldir

[Xssisha]

"My Lord, how many of your clan could house here in the hall temporarily? I would speak with her. Few words amid terrored and faltering speech may shed light into the shadows."

[Abalon]

During the whole travel and conversation, Alfdis had remained silent, their gaze alternating between the fire and the old crone. They knew Odin had brougth them to this place. When the herald came to their Jarl's door, the feeling of having to answer was familiar to them by now, almost comforting. It meant they could do something for the Allfather himself. They didn't often come to Skoljyr, but they quietly looked with sadness at the shade of its former self that remained. Whatever happened had to be terrible, especially with all the warriors brought to this place. Their small meditation into the fire was interrupted by their Hvitabjorning companion's loud declaration. They only answered with a content chuckle

"Well said, companion..."

They then turned to the young Jarl, gazing at him in silence before finally speaking

"Do not worry, Lord Haldur. It is not the first time I have dealt with beings of the Dark. My...no, our presence here is proof that the gods have not abandonned Skoljyr. And we will remind these things of it"

[Ace Bronson]

 

Haldur breathes a deep shuddering breath and holds his head in is hands for a moment then looks up. He seems reassured by the confidence of the warriors. He considers Hjarlof's question, "We could probably hold most, if not all here or near here if needed. It will not be comfortable, but comfort has long since left these lands. Do you think I should pull my people in for safety?" He seems relieved that someone else is making decisions.

 

[Svartalf]

Methinks safety is found in numbers... the more people, and the fewere isolated ones, or small groups, the easier it is to notice when the enemy comes for you and to react accordingly.

said the warrior maid, trying to make the best of her current job.

[Zaathun]

---

Ranulf the Rooster  _{Human Raider}

---

Nodding approvingly at the roaring replies, Ranulf takes the offer of the meat. Dry and tough, he sniffs it for a moment, chewing slowly and listening to the replies of those currently louder at him. As he finally swallows, the cold of the road and the sea moving away to the warmth of a hearth, he finally adds. "Then it is simple. Steel and fire will banish the darkness. As for the blood, only the Norns choose when we spill enough."

 

The suggestion of gathering everyone sounds interesting to the man's ears, as he rubs a hand on his short beard. "Perhaps. Though if there's dark thoughts in their minds, being all together may bring foul moods. I'd say, better to walk among them often, tell them to be ready to defend the mead hall, together. It will help them see the Jarl being ready to lead Sjoldir, and that matters, does it not?"

"As for us, we'd best get to seeing the woman. Future may be clouded, but the past is easier to part to us ungifted by the gods."

---

Stats

Ranulf TN Human (URogue 4)

Init 5  Speed 30  HP 35/35
AC 21  Touch 16  Flat-footed 13 CMD 21
Fort 3  Ref 9  Will 2
Base Attack Bonus 3
Primary Weapon: Mwk Boarding Axe (2) (at will) +10(1d6+5)
Armor: Studded Leather Armour - Light Armor - (+3AC) (+5Dex) (+2 Shield when Weapons drawn) (+1 Combat Expertise, Threatening Defender)
Abilities:  Str 10, Dex 20, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 12
Conditions: None
Special Abilities

Sneak Attack +2d6
Debilitating Injury (Ex)
Minor Magic (Read Magic)

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[Eborne1]

---

Goran Halfbjorn  _{Dire-Bear Berserker}

---

Goran remains silent for the remainder of the meeting but doesn't like the smell of this wise woman. The Jarl may yet be a weak cub, unfit to rule, but children have a certain undisguisable honesty about them and his discomfort in the presence of his council did not escape the warrior's keen eyes.

**Sense Motive CheckSense Motive on the truthfulness of Eir's words and her general intent. **

But Goran is a superstitious man. He keeps his thoughts to himself, lest the old woman puts a madness in his dreams.

Assuming the meeting nears a close, Goran offers the short man beside him another stoic nod of thanks and makes his way toward the exit.

 

---

Quick Stats

Human Form   (Medium)  Init 3  Speed 30  HP 36/36 STR 18, DEX 16, CON 14, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8 AC 20  Touch 16  Flat-footed 17 CMD 23 (25 vs PM) Fort: 7  Ref: 8  Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus (4) CMB +8 (+10 Powerful maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Shifter Claws (2) (at will) +9(1d4+4) - DR Silver/Cold Iron Club +8 (1d6+4) / Short Spears +7(1d6+4) 20ft Range Armor: Lamellar Leather (+4AC) (+3Dex) Conditions: None Special Abilities: Shifter Aspect (Bear) (+2 CON) (7/7 min/day) Wild Shape (Dire Bear) (7/7 hours/day)

Bear Form  (Large)    Init 2  Speed 40  HP 36/36 STR 22 DEX 14 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CON 8 AC 21  Touch 17  Flat-footed 18 CMD 25(27 vs PM) Fort: 7 Ref: 7 Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus: (4) CMB +11 (+13 Powerful Maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Claws(2) +9(2d4+4)+Grab Bite +9(2d6+4)+Grab Armor: Natural Armor +4 Shifter Defensive Tactics +4 Conditions: None Special Abilities: Grab, Pounce, Low Light Vision, Scent: (30ft)

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Edited September 1, 2023 by Eborne1 (see edit history)

[Xssisha]

The Skald replied, "Aye, my lord. I do. As the Lady said, there is strength in numbers, but I too agree with Ranulf. We would do well to learn what we may before hearding everyone into a confined space." Hjarlof would follow the guard to the house of the unfortunate woman and, humming a little tune about finding what is lost (casting Sift), would examine the interior of the room she is in thoroughly. (1d20-4 Perception roll coming to discord once I get home in a few hours)

[Sovereign Sojourn]

Alruna stalks the back of the room like a wolf in the shadows. She does not properly introduce herself to the child Jarl, instead watching with suspicion and removed approach. She merely nods as her name is mentioned, before her gaze is drawn to the distant cawing of ravens beyond a nearby window.

At first, one might think her disinterested in the affairs before them...

...But in truth, she had been stricken silent and her mind flung from the room by something the youngling Jarl had said. The freemen’s livestock would sicken, crops would fail and people began to mistrust their neighbors. This was a dark omen, indeed. It made Wyrd-Weaver Alruna pensive... and nervous, through she'd never admit it. The shadow that had fallen over this land was a curse, a foul twisting of the fates. Her mind races with the different possibilities of what this might mean. A treacherous abuse of the woven strands of destiny. A betrayal of the will of the Norn, she suspects. Or perhaps a test? No, too much bloodshed. Too much suffering. This was an act of terror, a criminal intent made manifest through a dark form of Seiðr magicks.

It was the good fortune of this company that they were equipped to respond in kind. Such were her wyrding ways.

As the company rallied and prepared to leave, Alruna snapped back into the now. She would contemplate the meaning of this shadow, but for now she had more immediate preparations to make. She tilts her head, elk-antler helm swaying atop her tightly braided hair. As if she could sense Goran's own suspicions, she emerges from the shadows in the back of the hall and casually places a hand on his shoulder as they pass one another, her own eyes drawn to the old crone and the youngling Jarl. There was some mystery afoot there, but Alruna was scarcely interested in becoming entangled in the web of politics.

Instead it was to the entire group that she spoke, as they prepared to leave the hall and set out, her voice somehow both soft and firm, she speaks her first words since departing the long-boat;

"The Gods are with us, now and as ever, Ranulf. The past we should seek, but the future is not so hidden from the sight of seiðkona. If the Norn should will it, perhaps the way will be revealed to my eyes. If we are brave and forthright, the path may open before us. Blôdarna's doubts are not without wisdom... but our wyrd is sealed and bound. It is no accident that we have been brought here. Your blades are precisely and exactly what have been called forth, for who else stands among us? It is this company and no other which hath been chosen.

"So... Let my blessings call to you. Let valor guide our path. So long as the Seiðr is mine to command, let it be a sign of Odin's approval. I will not let the shadow over-take any of you. Your blades against the flesh and blood of our enemies, my Seiðr against the shadow. Only a failure in our courage will break our cause. So let us be not afraid of the Dark. Let us go and see what glory we might claim for ourselves."

Satisfied with her own little speech, she steps back through the door - an escape she'd never ventured far from - and took a deep breath of the tainted air.

How she hated being trapped inside, even for a moment. Let the townsfolk huddle in that trap. For her, safety was synonymous with the Hunt.

Edited September 2, 2023 by Sovereign Sojourn (see edit history)

[Eborne1]

---

Goran Halfbjorn  _{Dire-Bear Berserker}

---

Goran's feral, obsidian gaze snapped downward at the hand of the mage-woman even as she lifted it toward him. His shoulder twitched at her touch. Of those with whom he traveled, this woman gave Goran the most pause. He could not claim to attest to the strengths and weaknesses of the others, but theirs were such as to lay within his realm of measure and understanding. Whatever gifts this wyrding woman possessed and offered to the company, Goran knew he would never understand them. Yet he found her eyes reassuring, and more so the message they conveyed.

She smelled of henbane, myrrh, juniper, and burnt alder wood. They were aromas he knew. He held her gaze for measured moments before moving past her and out through the hall's large wooden doors. When she emerged moments later and took noticeable relief, as he had, in the open air, tainted even as it was, his wariness of her was lessened.

"This company is strong...," Goran reflects, as he looks out upon the empty, dusky road before the hall.

"Our strength will be tested here," the bearish man thinks. "Good."

---

Quick Stats

Human Form   (Medium)  Init 3  Speed 30  HP 36/36 STR 18, DEX 16, CON 14, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8 AC 20  Touch 16  Flat-footed 17 CMD 23 (25 vs PM) Fort: 7  Ref: 8  Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus (4) CMB +8 (+10 Powerful maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Shifter Claws (2) (at will) +9(1d4+4) - DR Silver/Cold Iron Club +8 (1d6+4) / Short Spears +7(1d6+4) 20ft Range Armor: Lamellar Leather (+4AC) (+3Dex) Conditions: None Special Abilities: Shifter Aspect (Bear) (+2 CON) (7/7 min/day) Wild Shape (Dire Bear) (7/7 hours/day)

Bear Form  (Large)    Init 2  Speed 40  HP 36/36 STR 22 DEX 14 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CON 8 AC 21  Touch 17  Flat-footed 18 CMD 25(27 vs PM) Fort: 7 Ref: 7 Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus: (4) CMB +11 (+13 Powerful Maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Claws(2) +9(2d4+4)+Grab Bite +9(2d6+4)+Grab Armor: Natural Armor +4 Shifter Defensive Tactics +4 Conditions: None Special Abilities: Grab, Pounce, Low Light Vision, Scent: (30ft)

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Edited September 3, 2023 by Eborne1 (see edit history)

[Ace Bronson]

As the encounter with the Jarl and the seer concludes, Jarl Haldur motions for the elderly guard at the door and whispers something in his ear. He turns to the guests and speaks, "My guard will take you to the woman who survived an attack on her family. I caution you to not expect a great deal to be learned from her. She is... not well. You are free to go where you will, speak with whom you will and do what you will in effort to help rid of us this evil that plagues us. If I can aid you in any way, please ask and I will do what I'm able. I thank you again for coming. I pray for all our sakes that you are successful."

With that, the guard leads the visitors out of the hall and through the muddy paths of the dark, seemingly empty village. He brings them to a leaky, dilapidated cottage that is tucked away under a stand of pine trees. The trees make the cottage feel even darker than the surrounding gloom and gave it a sense of claustrophobia. Inside is nearly pitch black, a wave of stench hits the nostrils of the guests. It is a mixture of untreated wounds and uncleaned, fouled bedding.

A woman lays despondent on a crude bed in an otherwise unfurnished room. only visible after someone lights a tallow candle. She is missing an leg and dirty cloth wraps cover her oozing stump. Her face is covered in scratch marks as if she had attempted to claw out her own eyes but lacked the strength and resolve to carry out the grisly task. She lays there, not asleep but not responding to the light or the strangers who have entered her room, staring through with blank, unfocussed eyes as if they did not exist.

 

[Xssisha]

It saddened Hjarlof to see anyone suffer unduly, and this poor woman was obviously suffering a waking nightmare. "~If I had words," the Skald began in a soft, low voice as he stepped carefully and slowly towards the bed, "~to make a day for you, ~I'd give you a morning, ~golden and new." He knelt on one knee by the bed, gingerly reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "~I would make that day, ~last for all time, ~and fill your night full of moo-oon shine." The song would wrap itself around her, cradling her in comfort and peace. (Cure Light Wounds 1d8+4)

 

"Hello, my lady. My name is Hjarlof. What is yours?" His kindly tone like that an elderly person might use to talk to a scared toddler. "I hear you have had some very bad things happen recently. My friends and I are here to help. What can you tell us about what has been happening?"

 

[Sovereign Sojourn]

The dwelling before them sets the wyrd-weaver's hair on end. A sense of foreboding nearly upsets Alruna's careful serenity, but she growl's a low wolf-call and grits her teeth through the uncertainty.

Alruna's nostrils flare as she enters the pitch blackness of the make-shift infirmary. Before her, a sad scene unfolds as her eyes adjust to the absence of proper light. She makes no move to directly confront the woman, and steps to the side of the bed opposite Hjarlof. She remained silent, her eyes snapping up to the unexpected sound of song escaping the skald's lips.

Alruna watches Hjarlof with the quiet intent of a student, unable to fully mask the wonderment in her own eyes as his song brought comfort, seemed to quiet the harshness of the stench, made the room seem just a little less dark and dreary.

Be this seiðr, too? Or merely her own playful imagination? Alruna "listens" for some trace Odin's presence even as her eyes sweep over the elder, her true focus on the detection of any malign influence or unwelcome spirits casting ill omens or sickness over the woman.

 

 

 

seiðr

Casting Orison "Detect Magic".

1st Round: Presence or absence of magical auras.

 

[Ace Bronson]

The woman seems not to hear the words of succor being offered by the skald, she continues to stare through him as he speaks. A few moments pass, then the woman draws in a long shuddering, ragged breath, closes her ravaged eyes tightly as tears form at the corners. She rolls to her side, brings her clenched hands to cover her face, draws her good leg into her chest and lets out a soul wrenching sob. As painful as it is to watch, it feels somehow better for her than the death-like trance she had been in previously. The sobbing continues for a time, but finally her shoulders relax slightly, her body begins to unclench and her face, deathly pale aside from the ugly red welts left by her fingernails, looks out to the people huddled around her in the flickering candlelight. There is a glimpse of light and life in her eyes where before there was nothing.

 

 

 

Edited September 4, 2023 by Ace Bronson (see edit history)

[Xssisha]

Hjarlof stayed kneeling beside the bed. He looked up at Alruna. He wondered what she could sense. He had never been too keen on those who communed with the Norn, but depending on what they faced he could not deny that he was glad to know someone here could see what hazy fate lay before them.

 

With a soft voice, trying to reach her with kindness, Hjarlof tried again. "My Lady, please, we are here to help you and this town. But we need your help. Please tell us what you have seen. Anything you can tell us would help."

Edited September 4, 2023 by Xssisha
Misspellings (see edit history)

[Eborne1]

---

Goran Halfbjorn  _{Dire-Bear Berserker}

---

Having dipped his head into the small abode for just long enough for his nose to tell him it was not a place he wished to be, Goran chose to remain outside as the others tended to the broken woman. He would remain close, lest his aid be needed, though he suspected it would not.

The grey sky above weighs on Goran like a fever. A low and rolling growl escapes from somewhere deep within the man in protest of his drab surroundings.

The whole town is unnaturally quiet.

A wooden door creaks from somewhere beyond his sight. Minutes later, a spindly, cowled figure passes by, toting a bucket, and quickly shuffles away upon noticing Goran.

The broken cackle of a carrion bird rattles overhead in the languid air.

---

Quick Stats

Human Form   (Medium)  Init 3  Speed 30  HP 36/36 STR 18, DEX 16, CON 14, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8 AC 20  Touch 16  Flat-footed 17 CMD 23 (25 vs PM) Fort: 7  Ref: 8  Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus (4) CMB +8 (+10 Powerful maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Shifter Claws (2) (at will) +9(1d4+4) - DR Silver/Cold Iron Club +8 (1d6+4) / Short Spears +7(1d6+4) 20ft Range Armor: Lamellar Leather (+4AC) (+3Dex) Conditions: None Special Abilities: Shifter Aspect (Bear) (+2 CON) (7/7 min/day) Wild Shape (Dire Bear) (7/7 hours/day)

Bear Form  (Large)    Init 2  Speed 40  HP 36/36 STR 22 DEX 14 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CON 8 AC 21  Touch 17  Flat-footed 18 CMD 25(27 vs PM) Fort: 7 Ref: 7 Will: 4 Base Attack Bonus: (4) CMB +11 (+13 Powerful Maneuvers) Primary Weapons: Claws(2) +9(2d4+4)+Grab Bite +9(2d6+4)+Grab Armor: Natural Armor +4 Shifter Defensive Tactics +4 Conditions: None Special Abilities: Grab, Pounce, Low Light Vision, Scent: (30ft)

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Edited September 4, 2023 by Eborne1 (see edit history)