Amund sniffs at the air and looks around, then reaches to his side and with a startled expression lets out a cry "Geri, we must find Amund's Mace of Jotunn Smashing!!"  He runs over to a spot on the battlefield.  "Amund was standing here and threw the mace that way, at that big ugly Jotunn."

Amund rushes off into the night.

"Hey we all got things we need to find where...", he turns to continue speaking to Amund but he has already run off.  He drops his head into his hand and lets a groan of exasperation.  Looking up he turns and yells,"Find my axe while you're at it."

"Jotun magic? I'm not so sure I like the sound of that..." Sigurd begins. But when he feels the heat coming off of the runestone, and the wet chill of his ragged clothes, he stops talking and moves closer to Dragnar to warm up.

He calls out to Erik. [Language unknown: Marebe nd ca mipohe. Eve witrus k Verionine. I ecurro li, ek ol era t.]

The warmth spreads to any who come within five feet of the skald. Of the items left my the monsters, the spears and the whips are clearly foul and unclean items, and nothing else seems to be of much use.

In reply to The Norn (msg # 375):

Erik starting to get his bearings now and feeling a little more comfortable ,reviews his former cage now with new eyes for anything that may be of use. He collects it all and joins the others in looking for a place to stay warm and give them a chance to dry off. He racks his brains trying to think of somewhere close that may be able to provide shelter for the group and just give them a little time to recoup.

He turns and talks to Sigurd [Language unknown: Iouas. loul-moee se adevdi, onss!] he finishes with a smile.

After finding his beloved weapon, Amund realizes his best friend is hurting and in need of aid.  He reaches in his folds and pulls out some strips of cloth and helps bandage up Geri's wounds as best he can. "You need some rest my friend.  Let's get you back and Amund will help."

The two walk slowly back to the others.  Seeing Vermundr he walks over and drops his axe by his side. "You need rest too.  Amund will make a shelter to aid healing."  Amund finds some space near the brush, finds some appropriate sticks and logs, and digs down in the snow - in a short time he has created a slightly comfortable shelter that could fit two or three men.  "Geri, Vermundr get inside and rest up - and anyone else who needs rest; Amund will stand guard."

Which three men are going to use the shelter? They are the only ones who will heal from resting.

Do you guys want to chat some more, or should we move on? Seemed like a good time to let you all roleplay a bit, but we've been quiet for awhile...

"I still don't like the idea of staying out in the open like this.  That last encounter was very near our last.  With that said, however, I've not much left in me this evening.  If my end is nigh at hand than I wish to possess the strength to make it a glorious end."

He digs himself into the shelter Amund has constructed, axe still firmly grasped.

He turns to Amund, "Thank you friend."

Geri fits in there just fine...

Dragnar looks glumly at the many rips and tears dotting his skin.  He is clearly in need of healing, but he says nothing.

OOC: I'm so new, I don't even know who can heal. :)

Hruunwulf takes a position in the make-shift shelter.  He is not terribly wounded and sports only a few cuts and gashes.  Still, rest would be welcome.  His mind recoils at the memory of the Jotuun giant and is left breathless.  Such a thing. They possessed nothing, that he knew of, that could defeat it.  He had been a fool to run at it, not realizing the scale of the thing in the fog.

He shakes his head and watches as Amund tends to his pet.

Ludvig says nothing, willing to stay in the open in the face of the dangers that they've come against.

The night passes uncomfortably, with many of the valiant band and their new found comrades only sleeping intermittently due to a fear of additional dangers in the night.

As morning approaches the party does what they can in the rough frozen terrain to construct a burial cairn for the dead humans. Wulfgar knew a few of them by names, though many of the faces he remembered were of those who had persecuted him, several were friends from his childhood. Sigurd knows every face however, and tears are streaming down his face by the time the task is done.

Ludvig is clearly struggling, as is the massive hound that runs with the party. The suggestion is raised that the party could detour to the town where Wulfgar and Sigurd are from, which was attacked but which they believe would have some supplies and be a safer place to hole up. The party could continue along the fjord as well, hoping to find a way across. Other thoughts are also open for consideration...


         AC       HP
                Max  Now
Amund     4/3    47   21
Dragnor    2     22   06
Geri       6     18   03
Hrunnwulf  5     35   29
Klaengr    5     36   08
Ludvig     4     36   16
Sigurd     8     23   19
Vermundr  4/3    37   02
Wulfgar    5     39   29

Spells cast
Dragnar   0
Klaengr   0
Geri      0

Wulfgar addresses the entire party. "I think we should make our way to the town and find shelter and supplies. Some of us are still wounded very badly, and we need to recuperate. Some of the town may still be standing, and we can use it as shelter."

Dragnar -- one of those still seriously wounded -- agrees.

"We need to recover from that fight, because who knows what more horrors await us?  And, it may be that those in the town are in need of aid as well."

"It would seem to be the most logical idea.  At the very least it may give us something to go on...tracks or something of that nature; I don't like the idea of anymore surprises."

"I'm afraid we are likely to find the town deserted...or worse, repopulated by monsters. But it may give us shelter for the group to recover."

Ludvig looked to Klaengr, willing to go to his end for the priest.

(POSTED BY THE NORN)

With a hungry glance over the Fjord, Klaengr nods his reluctant agreement. Somewhere out there a band of Jotunn had innocent women and children in chains, he would pursue them most vigorously. Without vigor, however, what good would it do to catch them. Wisdom did not always agree with his temper, but wisdom was almost always right.

"Aye, we must find a place to shelter and regain our strength. First, however..."

He approached Vermundr and prayed to his storm god. Rubbing his palms together he placed them on his chest. Closing his eyes, he chanted under his breath.

Vermundr gasped, staggered for a moment but stood firm. To those watch, color came to his flesh, bruises faded, and even a rib seemed to move into a more natural position.

Once done he turned and gave Dragnar a narrowed glare, uncertain what sort of man he was that did the things he did last night. The measuring done, he realized that the man had risked his life for their cause. Twice more he called upon his gods blessing, sending vital life force thru the strange man as well.

The priest walked over and knelt by Geri, the valiant hound who had been on this quest even longer than he. The dog buried his muzzle in Klaengr's hand and accepted the blessing of the storm god as a warrior deserving as any.

They were still far from healthy, but they were in much better shape for the match ahead.

"Sigurd, Wulfgar, lead the way..."

OOC FYI Klaengr hasn't logged in for two weeks. Unless I hear from him very soon I am going to be looking for a replacement for him.



         AC       HP
                Max  Now
Amund     4/3    47   21
Dragnor    2     22   19
Geri       6     18   11
Hrunnwulf  5     35   29
Klaengr    5     36   08
Ludvig     4     36   16
Sigurd     8     23   19
Vermundr  4/3    37   14
Wulfgar    5     39   29

Spells cast
Dragnar   0
Klaengr   5
Geri      0


This message was last edited by the GM at 04:34, Tue 06 Sept 2016.

"Amund agrees.  All are weak, and the Jotunn are cowards! - now is when they would attack.  Amund must be stronger to kill Jotunn."

"I must say, you men of the cloth never struck me as the most useful type but, by Thor's hammer, I have been proven wrong twice in as many days."

Klaengr turns to respond to the back-handed compliment, "Well, there's more to a man than can be measured by the color of his loincloth." He favors the man with the hint of a smile. "Let us all hope we can each bring a measure of usefulness to our endeavor."

Looking up the trail, he says, "Come. Let us make good on our effort to reach dryer accomodations. We can ill afford another night like the last."

Klaengr pushes forward while trying to push away the fatigue brought on by a night of restless sleep.

Sigurd trudges through the snow, leading the party, with occasional questions to Wulfgar to make sure they're heading in the right direction, and quizzing Erik on certain points of Dwarfish grammar and vocabulary to pass the time.

It's the better part of the day before the party, and the few human survivors, reach the outskirts of the town. Geri growls low, scenting marauders, those who prey on the wreckage of discord, carrion eaters and other lowly creatures.

In this case Sigurd, who volunteers to scout forward, reports a large band of Northern Snow Orcs (or Sn'orks, for those familiar with the breed), with several Ogres, picking thru the corpses, several of which are being bar-b-qued for their leader. Though he did not see one, Sigurd informs the party that Sn'orks are notorious for having casters in the their, foul witch doctors or evil worshiping shaman. They also seem to have several captives, citizens of the town who either managed to hide from the Jotunn or get buried in the rubble.

The town had clearly been the home to several hundred people, a large motte and bailey enclosure raised in the center, and houses around the outside. The houses around the outside were mostly burned, though several had been crushed by huge boulders. Thirty or so Sn'orks wouldn't have dared try it, even with Orges in their ranks, when it had been an active and ongoing concern.

Even from the distance the party could see where the palisade had been smashed in, crushed by the massive Jotunn they had sent tumbling into the Fjord the night before.

Small parties of Sn'ork's still wandered the edges of town, a semi-organized guard structure distracted by the hope for loot. The leader and the ogres held court in the raised area, under the ruins of the small stone fortress that had been the core of the community...

"Well then, it does not look like we will find any respite here, either," Klaengr says in response to Sigurd's report. "At least not one we can gain without a fight..." he adds before trailing off in thought.

Turning now to Wulfgar and Sigurd, "But make no mistake about it, we will deliver vengeance upon these foul swine. But first, this is your land. You both know it well. Are there any outlying steads or cottages nearby where we might regain out strength before defeating these orcs and freeing your kinsmen?"

Klaengr further explains his plan, which involves relocating to a nearby farmstead where they can perhaps find shelter for the night while they rest and recuperate. Ideally, this location would allow a keen-eyed scout to observe the village from a distance. The location does not even have to be a structure, it could be a nearby cave well-known to the locals. The key point being the party is in no shape to take on a mass of orcs just yet. But, if given time to rest and to assess their enemy, they should be able to prevail.

"As much as I would like to march directly to the walls and slay orcs to the last, we are in a position to choose the time, place and method of our attack and should not squander that boon."