>>2150804
Moo

>>2150804
Lets go

Every muscle in your body tightens as you grimace, hissing in pain. It feels as though your skin is on fire, ready to slough off at any moment. Your fingers clutch at the bed of sweat-stained furs beneath you with an iron grip, even as you snarl over your shoulder at the hunched figure nearby.

“You said this would get rid of the pain, witch,” is all that you can get out from between gritted teeth. Your words are almost immediately followed by a groan as coarse, calloused fingers press against your wounded flesh. You can feel the cooling sensation of a salve smothering the cuts that decorate your back, of a concoction made of various herbs and weeds being worked into the red welts.

Madga's rough touch moves to your shoulder as she turns you over onto your back. You manage to contain a pained whimper as the crone's hands work across your arms and your chest, kneading the ointment into the flesh. “All things take time, thane,” is all that Magda mutters as she continues her work. Perhaps fifty years ago, she might have been pleasant to look at. All you can see as you stare up at her through bleary eyes is a weathered hag, snowy white hair hanging around a wrinkled, sagging face. Thankfully, everything below her chin is covered by a heavy, tattered robe of stinking fur, everything except for the gnarled fingers that reach out and paw at your wounds.

You blink away tears and prop yourself up on your elbows, long enough to stare down at your new skin. Only a week ago it had been pale and immaculate and although it still looks as though the sun has never touched you, it is clear that knives certainly have. A lattice of angry red runes you do not understand have been carved into your body, coiling about your arms and snaking their way down your torso to your abdomen. They are the runes of leadership, the very same your father wore before his demise, or so Magda says.

“This is true for ruling as well, thane,” the hag murmurs as she withdraws her coarse touch. She turns to wash her hands in a bowl of water, giving you the opportunity to sit up with one last groan. Every inch of you still throbs and aches, despite the salve that Magda slathered you with. “It took your father years to earn the respect of his people and you'll need to do the same.”

“They don't need to respect me to obey me. They'll follow me because I'm thane and if they don't, I'll make examples out of them.” Your upper lip curls back in a sneer. The witch glances over her shoulder with a rueful smile and shakes her head, more amused than anything else. She has always been like this, a woman with too much wisdom for her own good whispering into the thane's ear. Even while your mother was alive, you saw Magda at your father's side far more than you saw her.

“That'll work, for a time,” the crone croons. “You'll be feared and no one will step out of line, until they see weakness. They might even imagine it. As soon as they think they've got no reason to fear you, they'll leave and you'll be thane of nothing. If you want to keep them, you'll need to earn their love.” Magda shuffles away from the bowl, over to where a copper pot rests over an open fire.

“You speak as though you've led this clan yourself,” you scoff. “I've heard what others say. You have too. They say you're the real thane, that my grandfather and father were just the Voice of Magda, not the Voice of the Magnar. Is that what you're hoping for? That I'll just be speaking for you as well?” Tutting to herself, the wise old woman shakes her head even as you force yourself to rise to your feet, no matter how shaky you are after all that you've endured.

“No one has any use for a leader that's a puppet, thane. In this land, you've got to strike a balance. A man that does nothing but listen and obey gets replaced and a man that does nothing but fight and roar scares off those loyal to him. All I'm here for is to serve. Your blood's given me shelter and purpose. Listen to me or don't, I've no intention of ruling through you.” In the dim light of your quarters, you stare down at the figure of Magda hunched over the pot, stirring its contents. She's always been a mystery to you. You wonder if your father ever truly understood her either, even after all the years she spent at his side.

The fire's light dances off the walls of greasy black stone as the elderly woman takes up a wooden cup, filling it to the brim with an acrid-smelling tea. Magda turns back to you and offers the concoction to you with both hands, her withered face bowed. “Drink, thane. It'll ease the pain and give you strength. There is much to be done today and you need to be ready for it.” The witch's head remains lowered and her cup remains proffered.

>Accept the tea and thank Magda for her assistance. She has been loyal to your family through thick and thin and she deserves gratitude for it.
>Accept the tea reluctantly. You'll take every advantage you can get; you can't afford to show weakness in front of the Low Thenns today. This doesn't make you her pawn though.
>Refuse the tea. You are a thane, you do not need strength gained from Magda's noxious creations. You will prove your might to your people without her assistance.
>Knock the tea out of her hand. You're not as foolish as your father or his father before him. You refuse to be her puppet as they were and you've endured enough of her 'remedies.'

>>2150828
>Accept the tea reluctantly. You'll take every advantage you can get; you can't afford to show weakness in front of the Low Thenns today. This doesn't make you her pawn though.

>>2150828
>Accept the tea reluctantly. You'll take every advantage you can get; you can't afford to show weakness in front of the Low Thenns today. This doesn't make you her pawn though.

She gotta earn that trust.

>>2150828
>Accept the tea, she's been loyal to the family.

Going with:
>Accept the tea reluctantly. You'll take every advantage you can get; you can't afford to show weakness in front of the Low Thenns today. This doesn't make you her pawn though.

Writing response.

Silence lingers for a moment as you stare down at your reflection in the cup's contents. Then finally, with a grunt, you take the vessel in your hands and drink deeply. The acrid taste stings your tongue and the heat of the tea almost scalds your throat, but you're able to stomach it. Wiping the mouth with the back of your hand, you pass the wooden cup back down to Magda without a word. There's no witty remarks, only a bowed head as the hunched crone scurries off to put it to one side.

“Before long, the clan's warriors and leaders will be gathered,” Magda begins, explaining what you already know. It gives the witch's various remedies the time to kick in. “Most of Low Thenns fight for one of them or another. They know them better than they know you, care about them more than they care about you. But if you convince these chiefs to follow you, all of the Low Thenns will gladly serve you through them.” You roll your shoulders, work your fingers over your new scars. Your jaw tightens as you're rewarded with another twinge of agony but it's fainter than before, numbed by the ointment that Magda used.

Not only that but you can feel the tea's influence gradually spreading through your body. The pain of your scarification fades into a distant ache, no longer commanding your attention. “It is your choice what sort of impression you wish to make on them,” Magda continues. “Your method might work. Striking fear into them might be all you need to do to keep them loyal. Or maybe you may need to do more...”

“I know how this works,” you snap before the crone can drone on any longer. In truth, you haven't seen anything like this before. Your father succeeded his own long before you were born, the second longest-lived thane in the history of Bronzestone. Nonetheless, you have no desire to hear another word of Magda's vague wisdom. “By the end of the day, they will follow me.”

“As you say,” she concedes, bowing her head and retreating away from you to inspect your clothes and arms, arrayed as they are across the floor and wall of your quarters. “What do you plan to wear then? What do you wish for the Low Thenns to see you as?”

Choose any combination of following, or choose Unarmed:
>Unarmed. You are the rightful thane of Bronzestone, why would you meet them armed like a conqueror when they are already yours?
>Your long axe. There is no Low Thenn mightier than you and this hefty, half-moon axe is the perfect symbol of the strength you possess.
>Your battle axe and shield. You will both lead and defend the people of Bronzestone and this represents that versatility. Not to mention they'll prove useful, should anyone try to best you.
>Your hand axes. They're not your weapon of choice but you've needed to use them in the past, to fell beasts both fleeing and charging. Perhaps you could put them to similar use against men?

Choose one of the following:
>Light, fine furs. You do not need to hide from the cold as other men do, nor do you need to hide from the weapons of others you can so easily best. You are truly the best of men.
>Heavy furs and skins. You'll present yourself as the best among equals, rather than show off your superiority or hide beneath a metal shell. You are nothing more than another man.
>Bronze scale mail. You shan't leave anything to chance. If any of them are going to plan an attempt on your life, then you're going to be ready for it.

>>2150943
Long Axe and light fura

>>2150943
>Your long axe. There is no Low Thenn mightier than you and this hefty, half-moon axe is the perfect symbol of the strength you possess.

>Light, fine furs. You do not need to hide from the cold as other men do, nor do you need to hide from the weapons of others you can so easily best. You are truly the best of men.

Going with:
>Your long axe. There is no Low Thenn mightier than you and this hefty, half-moon axe is the perfect symbol of the strength you possess.
>Light, fine furs. You do not need to hide from the cold as other men do, nor do you need to hide from the weapons of others you can so easily best. You are truly the best of men.

Writing response.

Magda moves to assist you once you make your choice but you wave her away. You are not so feeble that you require the assistance of a woman four times your age, no matter the scars you now bear. You gather clothes tailored to impress, rather the practicality of survival in the Far North. Dyed woollen breeches, high boots of blackened leather, a sturdy belt of the same leather complete with a rune-inlaid buckle, a bronze arm ring and a greatcloak of soft white fox fur. The crone has the decency to turn away while you clothe yourself and admire your extravagant garb. You imagine that you'd even be the envy of Southern lords, with all of their finery. Not only that but the open greatcloak serves to show off the runes that now scar your bare chest, offering proof of your status to any that lay eyes upon you.

With a grunt, you heft your long axe from where it rests, admiring the weapon. From its sturdy haft to the wicked curve of its half-moon blade to the vicious spike that juts out opposite of the axehead, it's an impressive weapon that draws eyes as well as it ends lives. It's served you well this far and you know that today, it'll serve you even better. Gripping the haft with a single hand, you rest your weight against it as you turn to face the doorway and the approaching footfalls.

Pushing aside the hanging furs that preserve the privacy of your quarters, you look down upon Ulgin, your little brother. The watery-eyed boy just turned eleven a week before your father died and as far as you know, he hasn't taken it very well. His scrawny figure is clad in heavy aurochs furs, hiding him from the bitter chill of early spring and in his hands is a gleaming sphere of bronze. On closer inspection, you recognize it that it's no sphere, but a skull, one that's not that different from the other four that decorate the main chamber of Bronzheld. It's that of your father.

“They uh, they're here,” Ulgin mutters. He doesn't look up from the empty sockets of your father's skull, clutching the decorated bone with a vice-like grip. “Old Barr and the others are waiting in the big hall. They're arguing though and...” Your brother's wavering voice trails off, leaving the two of you standing in silence. You can hear the expectant, impatient Magda shuffling about behind you, eager to get on with the day's affairs.

“Here, I guess... I guess you'll need this.” Sullenly, Ulgin reaches up to offer you the decorated skull, your distorted reflection gleaming on its surface. As you go to take it, the boy glances up, briefly meeting your stare before looking askance. “I know this sounds foolish but uh, could I have it back after this? I'd like to try and speak with Dad again.” There's just the faintest hint of hope in his voice.

>Allow him to keep your father's skull after today. He'll get used to your father's passing in time. Maybe this will help.
>Refuse to give your brother your father's skull, but promise the opportunity to mourn your father together sometime.
>Refuse and chide your little brother. He needs to learn how hard life North of the Wall is. There's no room for weakness.

>>2151261
>>Refuse to give your brother your father's skull, but promise the opportunity to mourn your father together sometime.

>>2151261
>Refuse to give your brother your father's skull, but promise the opportunity to mourn your father together sometime.

Thinking on it, we should probably give him time to talk, but on our terms, not his. just so he doesn;t get into something bad.

Going with:
>Refuse to give your brother your father's skull, but promise the opportunity to mourn your father together sometime.

Factoring >>2151310 into it too.

>>2151290
This but be nice about it. Not TOO nice but our little brother needs to Look up to us

“You know that I can't do that,” you begin. Already you can see the hope drain out of your little brother's face. Placing your axe to one side and lowering yourself down to crouch beside him, you try to explain. “It's not our place to keep him to ourselves, Ulgin. He belongs with the thanes that came before him and one day, I'll join them too.” Not any day soon, you silently swear to yourself. “One day, we'll speak to them together. We'll tell them of what you and I have done for Bronzestone and then we'll know that they're proud of us.”

Ulgin remains sullen, yet he eventually brings himself to nod. Rising back to your feet, you deliver a pat to the boy's back, almost making him stumble. Sometimes you forget your strength. “Go join Aera outside and look after her. Make sure our little sister doesn't get in any trouble out there.” Taking up your long axe once more, you watch as young Ulgin turns to hurry out of the chamber, scampering out of Bronzheld as you commanded. He pauses only to glance over his shoulder, calling out shrilly to you before he disappears around a corner.

“Good luck, Aethan!”

As if you need luck. You smirk to yourself and shake your head in disbelief, looking down at the bronzed dome of your father once more. In the reflection on the bronzed surface, you see a king. A king that wears scars rather than a crown and bronze rather than gold but a king nonetheless, the first among all men. It takes Magda clearing her throat to rouse you from your admiration of your own reflection, dragging you back to reality. No, there's no king to be found in that bronze, just a boy. Yet all things can change in time. With that in mind, you lead the way the winding corridors of Bronzheld towards the main chamber.

In your youth, the passages of greasy black stone felt like a maze but by now you know them better than any other. You find comfort in the oily shimmer that coats Bronzheld's walls and the eerie shadows that dance over them when they're touched by a torch's light. Not that you have long to ponder such things however, before you arrive in the main chamber of the hall, the old crane only a few steps behind.

There is no great table for battle plans, or any elaborate decorations. Simply a vast, desolate hollow with a great hearth blazing at its heart, its smoke rising up to the ceiling only to disappear through one of the many vents carved into the masonry there. At one end, a crude throne constructed from gathered debris over a century ago rests, with four gleaming skulls of bronze nestled in the stone at the foot of it. From experience, you know that it isn't a comfortable seat. Opposite of the throne lies the open gate of the hall, the sun's light spilling in through the opening.

“He doesn't have the Magnar's blessing because the Magnar isn't a fucking god, Barr!” That's the first voice you hear, bellowing throughout the chamber. “He's a fucking man! Not only that, but he's a long dead man! Unless you've learned to speak with ghosts, you old fucking fart, there's no way to know who the Magnar's blessed and no reason why I'd care even if we did!” Who could it belong to other than Gulbrand? A steely-eyed brute as broad as he is tall, with hair the same colour as new copper. Your father always considered him one of the finest of the Low Thenns, even if trying to rule over him was like wielding a sword by its blade.

“That don't matter! Have you ever seen him, Barr? How could you say that brat is the Voice of the Magnar?!” Another voice, this time a feminine one – if only just. Squat and stoic, black-haired Dagny only recently rose to power. You never liked her, with those beady brown eyes sunken in her pudgy, flat face, yet no one else commanded the respect of Bronzestone's vanguard like she did. “The boy's got eyes like blue stars and skin like ice! He ain't one of us, if he's anythin', he's the voice of the Others, a fuckin' cold devil walkin' among us!” By this point, her voice has become a rattling hiss. It's not the first time you've heard one of these rants from her.

“Enough, both of you. I will not stand for either of you spittin' on our faith any longer. Ulgorn's line was chosen to speak for the Magnar as his Voice, so Aethan shall lead us. Such is the Magnar's law.” Old Barr doesn't need to shout for his voice to carry throughout the hall. He's one of the few people in the tribe older than Magda, although his massive, sinewy figure doesn't give that away, even beneath layers of fur and hide. Only his gaunt face and the leathery skin pulled taut over it, combined with the ragged grey beard that trails down his chest give away his age.

Then at last, your gaze falls upon Sten. The scoutmaster doesn't have anything to add, seeming content in his silence. He simply rests cross-legged on the stone before the heart, a mop of tawny hair hanging about his scarred face while he whittles away a piece of bone with his knife. He's never been a man of many words, instead performing whatever task his thane asks of him and nothing more. Your father was always content to let him watch over the Mossfalls in peace, almost a chieftain in his own right in that region.

They are not alone however. Each of these warleaders is accompanied by their seconds, along with other companions. The bickering rages on as Magda shuffles to your side. Perhaps it's time for you to do something about it.

>Demand silence. You have heard enough of these warriors arguing like children.
>Focus your attention on a particular warleader as you enter the conversation. As you select this option, choose a warrior to either praise or challenge.
>Remain silent and observe. This is a chance for you to learn more about their grievances.

>>2151595
>Demand silence. You have heard enough of these warriors arguing like children.

If they wish to voice their concerns to us it will be done in an orderly fashion.

>>2151595
>SILENCE

>>2151595
>>Demand silence. You have heard enough of these warriors arguing like children.

>My Child of a BROTHER acts less child like than you lot, and he just lost his father.

Going with:
>Demand silence. You have heard enough of these warriors arguing like children.

>SILENCE
>Break somebody's teeth

>>2151683
Kek this is good.

“Enough!”

You force the word out with as much volume and authority as you can. If nothing else, you have caught the attention of the assortment of warriors, as each of them turn to face you. You suddenly feel quite naked compared to them, clad in only the fine furs of a thane while they are clad in heavy skins, that protect them from both elements and arms. Barr is even wearing his shirt of bronze scales, as though he is about to wade onto a battlefield But you're not here to fight, you're here to put an end to this petty squabbling.

“My little brother lost his father only three days ago, and he acts less like a child than the lot of you! If you have something you wish to say, you will say it for me to hear and not behind my back.” You almost snarl out the words as you turn your gaze from one to the other. Old Barr holds his ground, hardly phased by a word you said while Gulbrand's face turns a rosy red, one hand dipping to grab the haft of a hand axe hanging from his belt. Dagny bares her yellowing teeth and takes a handful of steps away from you and Sten, he simply remains where he's sat, whittling away at that piece of bone as though nothing's happening.

The same can't be said for one of the men standing at Sten's side though. A gangly, shaven man with his left ear missing steps forward, bulging brown eyes fixed on you. A disdainful sneer is evident on his face as he lifts the spear he clutches, pointing the bronze, leaf-shaped tip straight towards you. He shows no sign of respect for the runes carved into your flesh, for the bronzed skull that you clutch, for the blood of thanes that flows through your veins. No, this man is an outsider, one of the free folk brought into the fold of the Low Thenns, with no respect for the traditions of your people.

“We'll say whatever we like about ye, boy! What do ye think ye are, a fuckin' king? We ain't kneelers! I ain't a fuckin' kneeler and I ain't about to work for a fuckin' boy who thinks he's earned anything because his daddy was chief!”

“Get, sit the fuck down,” is all that Sten mutters, still working on that shard of bone.

“Shut ye mouth! I got more right to rule than this boy! I've been slavin' away for this tribe for o'er a decade now while he ain't done a thing for us! He thinks he scares any o' us with that daft axe of his, he's fuckin' wrong! I challenge ye, boy! I got more right to be chief than ye ever will!”

An awkward silence hangs in the air for just a moment, only to be broken by Gulbrand guffawing, his anger replaced by mirth after having witnessed Get's challenge. Dagny edges away, creating as much distance from herself and this new conflict as possible while Old Barr's gnarled fingers fall to the hilt of his sword, still resting in its sheath at his side.

“Say the word and I'll split the fool in two, my thane,” Barr rumbles.

>It isn't your place to deal with the foreign rabble. Have Barr take care of Get so you won't have to.
>If this fool wishes to humiliate himself, so be it. You'll accept his challenge and best him on his own terms. (This will start a combat.)
>There's no need for violence. Perhaps you can dissuade Get from this path and get him to serve you of his own volition? (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)
>Who does this idiot think he is dealing with? You are Aethan, Thane of the Low Thenns and he will regret ever speaking out against you. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>>2151908
>>2151908
>No need Barr, every chief needs too make an example of the first fool to challenge him, and Get is a wonderful volunteer.
>If this fool wishes to humiliate himself, so be it. You'll accept his challenge and best him on his own terms. (This will start a combat.)

>>2151908
>If this fool wishes to humiliate himself, so be it. You'll accept his challenge and best him on his own terms. (This will start a combat.)

He will KNEEL or DIE.

>>2151993
Actually even if he kneels he should die. That was just plain disrespectful.

>>2151900
>>If this fool wishes to humiliate himself, so be it. You'll accept his challenge and best him on his own terms. (This will start a combat.)

Hey, are you the same Plasma that did CorpQuest years ago?

Going with:
>If this fool wishes to humiliate himself, so be it. You'll accept his challenge and best him on his own terms. (This will start a combat.)
>>2152026
Corp Quest, Slug Quest, Megacorp Quest, House Harrock Quest and now Bronzestone Quest, yes.

>>2152043
God damn yes.

“I will take care of this one myself, Barr. Every leader needs to make an example out of the first fool to challenge him.” These are your words as you lean across to nearby Magda, thrusting the bronzed skull of your father into her clutches to grasp your long axe with both hands. Old Barr responds with a simple grunt, lifting his hand away from his blade's hilt as he falls back in line. Sten shoves himself to his feet to scramble out of the way of the impending bout, Dagny watches from the sidelines with a hopeful look in her beady, ugly eyes and Gulbrand lets out a hearty laugh from the depths of his belly.

“Hah! Almost sounded like you accused our thane of being craven, Barr! Good to see you fighting for yourself, Aethan. Gut this fucking rat and be done with him.” Although you catch Barr shooting a harrowing look at Gulbrand, nothing further comes of it. Along with the others, he moves out of the way to clear some space for your bout with Get.

You can feel the cool spring breeze wafting in through the hall's entrance, along with the scorching heat of the hearth. Your lack of armour is more obvious in this moment than any other as you eye the leaf-shaped tip of Get's spear, honed to a deadly point. The savage is far more ready for this fight than you, clad in durable, hardy leather beneath layers of animal skins. Meanwhile, your pallid flesh is still sore from scarification, exposed to the elements. At least you have your long axe at hand, as daft it might seem to someone as foolish as Get. All you need is to land a single blow and everyone will be able to witness his idiocy.

Both of you are tense, ready to spring at any moment. Get's lips curl back in a snarl as he waits for a lapse in your defence, for the perfect moment to strike even as you wait for the same opportunity from him.

>Please roll 3d6 for Initiative. Accepting the best of three.

Rolled 1, 1, 3 = 5 (3d6)

>>2152264

Rolled 4, 5, 3 = 12 (3d6)

>>2152264

Rolled 1, 5, 5 = 11 (3d6)

>>2152264

>>2152292
>>2152295
>>2152297
>Aethan rolled 5, 12, 11 on 3d6.
>Get rolled 10, 10, 7 on 3d6.

>Initiative Order:
>Aethan
>Get

You get your opportunity. For the briefest moment, Get's attention seems to shift away from you as he adjusts his stance, trying to adopt a more defensive posture. It's all the opportunity you need to soundlessly rush forward with your long axe raised, with the intention of bringing it down split the fool wide open before he can retaliate. You briefly see surprise flash across his features as you prepare to strike...

>Please roll 6d6 for Fighting. Best of three, as before.

Rolled 3, 2, 6, 3, 5, 5 = 24 (6d6)

>>2152363

Rolled 5, 2, 5, 3, 3, 5 = 23 (6d6)

>>2152363
Destroy him. Just like Sleipnir Industries destroyed it's enemies

Rolled 4, 4, 2, 5, 1, 2 = 18 (6d6)

>>2152363

>>2152379
>>2152392
>>2152394
>Aethan rolled 22, 21, 17 on 5D6+1B.
>Difficulty: 9.
>Three degrees; incredible success.
>Damage: 8 * 3 = 24. 24 – 2 AR = 22 Damage.
>Get's Health: 9 – 22 = –13 Health.
>Vicious: Some weapons are so good at what they do that fighting with them produces ugly outcomes. If you defeat a foe while wielding a Vicious weapon, the consequences of defeat are always death.

The bronze half-moon of your long axe catches the fiery light of the hearth as it descends from above, swooping down towards Get's shoulders. The poor idiot barely has the time to look up and acknowledge the weapon's keen edge before it bites into his hide-clad shoulder. It doesn't stop there either, effortlessly gliding through tanned fur and skin to meet the meat and bone of the wildling's torso. You only feel the slightest resistance as momentum guides the axehead further down still, easily carving through Get's chest at a sloping angle and cleaving him wide open in a spray of blood and viscera.

You don't quite hack all the way through the man, as your long axe finally comes to a halt only a few inches above the man's hip. There's no scream, not even a whimper from Get. He was dead before he could make a sound. Pressing your foot against what remains of his torso, you give an almighty kick to pull his long axe free from the disgusting remnants of what was once one of Sten's scouts. Get's carcass goes uselessly flopping to the floor in a puddle of his own gore and you turn to face the stunned audience, coated with the blood of the first man that tried to challenge your reign.

Choose one of the following:
>Take the opportunity to claim the man's head as a trophy, as evidence of your supremacy over any that would dare to challenge you. You shall have your skin marked with this victory another time.
>This was nothing special. Just one of many fools, who thought that he had the right to keep you from your rightful place as thane. Have his body burned in the hearth and the gore cleaned up.

You may also either choose this option or ignore it.
>Use this as a chance to teach everyone in the hall that you will not stand for any plotters or schemers. Anyone that seeks to challenge you will suffer this same fate. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>>2152586
>>This was nothing special. Just one of many fools, who thought that he had the right to keep you from your rightful place as thane. Have his body burned in the hearth and the gore cleaned up.
>Use this as a chance to teach everyone in the hall that you will not stand for any plotters or schemers. Anyone that seeks to challenge you will suffer this same fate. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>>2152586
>Take the opportunity to claim the man's head as a trophy, as evidence of your supremacy over any that would dare to challenge you. You shall have your skin marked with this victory another time.
>Use this as a chance to teach everyone in the hall that you will not stand for any plotters or schemers. Anyone that seeks to challenge you will suffer this same fate. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>>2152586
>>This was nothing special. Just one of many fools, who thought that he had the right to keep you from your rightful place as thane. Have his body burned in the hearth and the gore cleaned up.

>>2152586
>This was nothing special. Just one of many fools, who thought that he had the right to keep you from your rightful place as thane. Have his body burned in the hearth and the gore cleaned up.

>Use this as a chance to teach everyone in the hall that you will not stand for any plotters or schemers. Anyone that seeks to challenge you will suffer this same fate. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

Going with:
>This was nothing special. Just one of many fools, who thought that he had the right to keep you from your rightful place as thane. Have his body burned in the hearth and the gore cleaned up.
>Use this as a chance to teach everyone in the hall that you will not stand for any plotters or schemers. Anyone that seeks to challenge you will suffer this same fate. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>Please roll 5D6, BO3.

Rolled 1, 4, 1, 4, 3 = 13 (5d6)

>>2152642

Rolled 4, 4, 1, 5, 3 = 17 (5d6)

>>2152642

Rolled 6, 6, 1, 1, 4 = 18 (5d6)

>>2152642

Rolled 1, 2, 1, 1, 4 = 9 (5d6)

>>2152642

>>2152648
>>2152650
>>2152655
>Aethan rolled 17, 21 and 22 on 4D+1B+5.
>Dagny's Difficulty: 12. Three degrees; incredible success.
>Sten's Difficulty: 16. Two degrees; great success.
>Barr's Difficulty: 17. Two degrees; great success.
>Gulbrand's Difficulty: 19. One degree; marginal success.

You stand before the assembled warriors, covered in runes of leadership and dominion that have carved into your pallid skin and fresh blood that sprayed from the ruined carcass of Get. You stare at them with eyes like blue stars, an avatar's of winter's cool fury as you gesture to what little is left of the dead wildling.

“Should any of you choose to stand against me, this shall be your fate.” You do not raise your voice. You do not have to. All eyes are on you and the horror you have wrought. “You will bleed out on the black stone of my domain. Your name and deeds will be forgotten. I shall make it as though you never lived at all. This is the fate that awaits any that will not obey me. So will you die as this idiot has, or will you serve?”

The last syllable rattles off your tongue in a vicious hiss. Dagny is the first to reaction, her earlier complaints about you forgotten as she drops to her knees, burying her flattened face to the floor in a display of devotion. No one dares mock her for her submission; many follow her lead, kneeling before the Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns. Only a few dare remain standing before you and even they are wise enough to show respect. Sten and Old Barr both bow their heads in reverence, raising their fists to their chests in a crude salute.

Only Gulbrand dares to remain undaunted, refusing to submit as the others have. His fierce, steely eyes meet your glare and he holds your gaze for a long, torturous moment. Then at long last, the copper-haired brute bows his head as the other war leaders have, saluting in the same fashion. “I serve, my thane,” is all he manages to mutter beneath his breath, resisting any urge he has to make a defiant remark.

“Then you'll see to it that this filth is disposed of,” you retort as you gesture to the bloodied heap that decorates your hall's floor. Not another word needs to be said as you turn away, allowing Gulbrand and his men to tend to Get, casting his ruined body into the flames of the hearth. The smell of cooking flesh swiftly fills the air as the scout is burned away until all that's left of him is blackened bones.

With your attention elsewhere, Bronzheld gradually returns to normalcy. Conversation and banter resumes as the warriors discuss the events that had just unfolded, whispering of you to each other in hushed tones. Whether what they say of you is good or ill, there are none among the Low Thenns that would dream of attracting your ire, not after this display. You take the opportunity to clean Get's drying blood off your body, scrubbing away at your scarred flesh. Having acquired the loyalty of Bronzestone's finest, you will soon have to speak before all of the Low Thenns and assert your dominance over them. Until then though, you have some time to spare.

You have the opportunity to speak to two of the following about whatever you wish, before you are out of time and you will have to speak before all of the Low Thenns, amassed as they are outside of Bronzheld:
>Magda
>Dagny
>Old Barr
>Sten
>Gulbrand

With that, I'm going to use this as an opportunity to nap. For the rest of this thread, updates will be very intermittent but I'll try to provide updates if I can. Feel free to suggest which individuals you'd like to talk to and the topics you'd like to discuss with them. In addition, any feedback or questions about the quest so far are welcome too.

>>2152887
>Sten
>Old Barr

Get both their takes on the arguments, our due and their peers.

>>2152887
>Old Barr
>Sten

>>2152887
>Sten
Discussion of resources and movement of other tribes moving through the area.
Are we in need of more axes to grind or are our neighbors simply enjoying the spring?
>Old Barr
Need an idea of how to make our force better, stronger, faster.
Would not hurt to know of how to find more bronze for our troops as well.

>>2152887
>Sten
>Gulbrand

Gulbrand is the most autonomous and the most defiant of the lot making an ally of him is a must if we don't destroy him

Daggy is a cockroach and shouldn't be trusted unless we dominate her entirely

You decide to speak with Sten first of all. He's always struck you as the most reasonable of the lot, having never spoken up against your father. Since the last scoutmaster died, he's done everything that has been asked of him without any qualms. At the same time, you know very little of him and how his mind works. He's a plain man, possessing the grey eyes of the Low Thenns and a mop of thick tawny hair, dressed in the same pragmatic leather and skins as the other scouts and armed with the same hunting bow and bronze-tipped spear as the rest. If you didn't know better, you'd think of him as just another lookout. Yet there's a reason why he's the first among them, why they allow him to lead them in his own way.

“Sten,” you call over as you make your approach. His underlings scatter, scrambling away while the nondescript man turns to face you, his head bowing once more and fist rising to his chest in a salute. A welcome change to how you were almost ignored earlier in favour of that bone trinket of his. “I hope that the idiot that just challenged me wasn't important to you. I hope he didn't speak for you either, when he doubted my right to rule.”

“He didn't, thane. Uh, meaning that he didn't speak for me. I served Urgost well, I'll do the same for you.” Sten's head remains bowed, eyes looking elsewhere. The man's shaken, perhaps even scared although he will never admit. He's got every right to be. “He was a good tracker, knew the Mossfalls well and the land beyond even better. Never was a good fighter though. Thought he had a chance against you just 'cause you're young.”

“The blood of thanes flows through me, Sten. It will take more than an upstart outsider to overthrow my line.” You gesture towards the others scattered throughout the hall, the various war leaders and their aids. “What do you think of the rest of them, then? Would you say they're half as loyal as you?”

“After what you did to Get, yeah, we're all loyal. It was a rare day to ever hear Gulbrand call your father 'thane,' but here you are, getting him to bow on your first day of ruling. Now that's a sight that I'll remember.” The mop-haired man pauses for a moment, before continuing with a lower tone. “Got to wonder if you'll be able to keep it up though. A man like him isn't leashed for long. None of 'em are, I'd say.” Of course, he doesn't mention his own loyalties. You decide not to push him on the matter.

“What of the other tribes and clans then? Once the Low Thenns know that I am thane, I will need to look to our borders.”

Sten grunts and rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Last time we looked, the woods South of us are empty, though that's soon to change. Those are Crowbane lands and they're bound to return to them sooner or later. Not only that but we're seeing elk move North as the land thaws and the Farstriders are bound to follow 'em. They're a nomadic tribe, likely to graze at the Mossfalls for a few moons or so, uh, if you allow 'em to like Urgost did.”

“I've heard a few whispers about Ice Wives to the West. Any truth in that?”

“Likely is, thane. Winter's ending, they don't need to stick to the Milkwater as much as they have done. It's like anyone's going to say no to them passing through their territory, with those fucking bears they ride. They're a strange bunch, they are. Then we've got the Sealskins to the North, pilfering the beaches there for whatever they can get their hands on. They've been there for a good year now, longer than usual. Would be good to keep an eye on them, in case they're thinking of a raid.”

“I am not planning of sitting in Bronzestone forever, Sten. The Low Thenns need more land, we need room to grow,” you remark. The scout grunts, scratching at his throat as he considers how to answer your question.

“Well then, we got that stream that flows through our territory, the Tingleam. It's where we get most of our tin from, panning it from the bed, right? It comes from the hills to the West. If you want a steady supply of tin, we'll need to grab them but we got the Ice Wives to contend with for that. To the South, we got plenty more woods much like those we have in the Mossfalls. There's no one there to stop us from taking the land, although the Crowbane tribe won't take kindly to it when they come back from their raids. There's good fishing by the coast to the North, if the Sealskins haven't scared off all the fucking fish by now.”

“What I usually do is focus one half of my boys on one place,” Sten continues, “and scatter the other half all about to keep an eye on the rest of our lands. So, where do you want Bronzestone's eyes?”

>You want to know when the Farstriders will arrive, the moment they pass into your land. You need to be ready for intruders, even if they weren't hostile during your father's rule. Have Sten and his men focus on the Mossfalls and wait for ther arrival.
>The Low Thenns and the Crowbane have always clashed. Usually it's been little more than wife-taking but on occasion, they have tried to steal your clan's precious bronze. Have Sten and his men focus on the South, to inform you of the Crowbane's return.
>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.
>The Ice Wives are known for being one of the few tribes ruled by their women rather than their men, and for their strange bond with ferocious snow bears that they ride. Have Sten and his men focus on the West, you want to be ready if they approach Bronzestone.

>>2154207
>The Low Thenns and the Crowbane have always clashed. Usually it's been little more than wife-taking but on occasion, they have tried to steal your clan's precious bronze. Have Sten and his men focus on the South, to inform you of the Crowbane's return.

>>2154207

>The Low Thenns and the Crowbane have always clashed. Usually it's been little more than wife-taking but on occasion, they have tried to steal your clan's precious bronze. Have Sten and his men focus on the South, to inform you of the Crowbane's return.

>>2154222
>The Low Thenns and the Crowbane have always clashed. Usually it's been little more than wife-taking but on occasion, they have tried to steal your clan's precious bronze. Have Sten and his men focus on the South, to inform you of the Crowbane's return.

>>2154207
>>The Ice Wives are known for being one of the few tribes ruled by their women rather than their men, and for their strange bond with ferocious snow bears that they ride. Have Sten and his men focus on the West, you want to be ready if they approach Bronzestone.

lets conquer one and hear her lamentations

>>2154207
>>The Ice Wives are known for being one of the few tribes ruled by their women rather than their men, and for their strange bond with ferocious snow bears that they ride. Have Sten and his men focus on the West, you want to be ready if they approach Bronzestone.

>>2154207
>>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.
If he thinks they might raid us we need to keep our eyes on them, and the Crowbane are coming back from raiding so they won't be looking to raid us.

>>2154207
>>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.

>>2154206
>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.

Back from work, I'll need one last vote to break the tie between these two options:
>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.
>The Low Thenns and the Crowbane have always clashed. Usually it's been little more than wife-taking but on occasion, they have tried to steal your clan's precious bronze. Have Sten and his men focus on the South, to inform you of the Crowbane's return.

Once I get the deciding vote, I'll begin writing.

>>2154207
>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.

>>2154207
>The Sealskins are an unpleasant sort known for practising human sacrifice, migrating up and down the coastline and scavenging off of the beaches. Have Sten and his men focus on the North, on the beaches they currently inhabit in case they're planning a raid.

“We've no history with the Ice Wives,” you begin. “No reason to suspect they are a threat to us. No trouble from the Farstriders in the past either. When the Crowbane return, they'll be licking their wounds and counting their spoils, they won't have time for us. The Sealskins are the most likely threat to Bronzestone. Watch them, Sten. I want scouts at all borders but put the bulk of your effort into making sure the Sealskins stay on their beaches and away from my land.”

“Sound plan, thane,” Sten grunts, scratching at his throat once more. “If the mad cunts make any attempt to come South, you'll know of it before they're even moving. I'll let the men know and we'll move North from the Mossfalls. First of all though, the Low Thenns will need to see their new thane and his council. I'll make it happen once we've got all this over and done with.”

“That'll do, Sten.” With a curt nod, you turn away to leave the scoutmaster in peace. The plain man hurriedly bows his head in reverence, stepping back and allowing you to survey the others scatted around Bronzheld's hearth. It doesn't take you long to spot the gnarled, towering figure of Old Barr. He's standing by the gate, a black silhouette against an overcast sky as he stares down at the bustling village outside. You approach the elderly warrior, calling out to the war leader that was most loyal to your father.

“Barr,” you call out to him as you stop by his side. As soon as the old oak of a man has turned about to face, his fist is already clapping against the bronze scales that cover his chest in a formal salute. If there is such a thing as discipline in the Far North, this is a man that has plenty of it. An elaborate mess of runes decorates his face and what you can see of his throat and arms; you can only imagine what other achievements he has carved into his skin beneath the bronze and skins that he wears. His mouth is barely visible through the grey tangle of his beard, twitching to form words.

“You gave that barbarian the fate he deserved, my thane. One strike is all it takes to fell men as weak as he,” the old warrior rumbles. His storm grey eyes remain on the stone floor, bowed in respect. Yet behind all of that honour that Old Barr acts with, you know that he's also acting out of fear. He has never been a man loyal to any thane; he only serves the Magnar, the God and King of the First Men, a zealot through and through. As the Voice of the Magnar, you know you have some sway over him but only for as long as you keep to tradition and stand by the faith of the Low Thenns.

“Any man that stands against me, outsider or otherwise, will suffer the same fate. They will burn in the fires of my hearth and their names and deeds will be forgotten. Remember that, Barr.” You pause to let your words sink in before you continue. “That's not why I came to speak to you. You've been defending Bronzestone for many years, you know our forces than most. I want to know how you think we can improve them.”

“Only allow the Low Thenns to fight for Bronzestone, my thane,” is Old Barr's first response. “You fought Get just now, you know how weak these barbarians are. We can't allow that weakness to thrive in our clan. All Thenns, Low or otheriwse, are the Magnar's chosen people, the last o' the First Men. Those o' weak blood lack the strength and the spirit needed to fell Bronzestone's foes.” It isn't the first time you've heard this. How many times did Old Barr try to convince your father of the same?

“I will think on it,” you offer, although you're not about to commit to any such thing. If Old Barr had his way, he'd cut the population of Bronzestone in half in his efforts to purge any foreign influence on your clan. “How are our stockpiles of bronze, Barr? I hope they've changed for the better, since my father outlawed using bronze for common tools.”

“Not growin' and not dwindlin', my thane,” Barr huffs. “We've got all the copper we will ever need in the hills below us, that's what we're usin' for tools now. What we lack is tin. Our young and old pan specks o' the stuff out o' the Tingleam when they can but it's not enough for to arm any more men than we have already. We've got enough to replace lost arrows, spearheads and scales, that's all, my thane.”

“How can we change that?”

“Go to the Tingleam's source, my thane,” the old warrior replies. “Follow the stream West, into the hills and claim them as your own. Once they're ours, we can mine them for all the tin we need. I've heard Sten's men mutterin' about Ice Wives there though. If they own those hills or another tribe does, you could always see if you can get the tin we need through tradin'. That's if the Magnar wills that we stoop so low as to barter with barbarians, my thane.”

“My will is that of the God and King of the First Men, Barr. I am the Voice of the Magnar and he speaks through me,” you say. Your grip on your father's skull tightens as you continue, reinforcing your authority. “If I say that we shall purge the barbarians from our ranks, it is because the Magnar wills it. If I say that we will trade with them, it is because the Magnar wills it. Whatever I say and do, I do only because of the Magnar's will. You understand this, Barr?”

“Better than most, my thane.” Old Barr bows his head even lower than before, his chin touching his chest as his gaze falls to the smooth, glassy floor of Bronzheld. “I serve the Magnar through your bloodline, as my father did and his father before him. I can think of no greater honour than to fight for you and die for you. Yet there's one thing that Urgost did when he became thane, the same thing that his father, Aenyr did when he came to rule as well. I'd ask you to follow in their footsteps.”

You can't help but feel increasingly impatient with the ancient war leader. “Make your request and be done with it, Barr.”

“They went to the Cliff Face by the Mossfalls, my thane,” he replies. “They knelt before that heart tree and they spoke to the Magnar through it, they heard the God and King o' the First Men whisper his wishes to them through the mouth o' the Cliff Face. Go to the godswoods as they did, my thane. That's all that I shall ever ask o' you.”

>Very well. As soon as the people of Bronzestone has accepted you as their thane, you will go to the godswood and hear the Magnar's will for yourself.
>All in due time. You have other things to take care of first and while previous thanes might have gone to the godswood immediately, you will do so only when you are ready.
>Did he not hear you? Your will is that of the Magnar. You do not need to speak to a tree to confirm this, you became the Voice the moment your father died.

>>2156054
>Very well. As soon as the people of Bronzestone has accepted you as their thane, you will go to the godswood and hear the Magnar's will for yourself.

Best to keep the zealot on our side methinks.

>>2156054
>Very well. As soon as the people of Bronzestone has accepted you as their thane, you will go to the godswood and hear the Magnar's will for yourself.

>>2156054
>>Very well. As soon as the people of Bronzestone has accepted you as their thane, you will go to the godswood and hear the Magnar's will for yourself.

>>2156054
>Very well. As soon as the people of Bronzestone has accepted you as their thane, you will go to the godswood and hear the Magnar's will for yourself.

“If my father did it, so shall I, Barr. As soon as we're done here, I'll make my way to the godswood and hear the Magnar's word for myself. After that, none will be able to doubt that my voice is that of the Magnar himself.”

A shadow of a smile passes over the old warrior's leathery features. “That is all that I ask o' you, my thane. The Voice o' the Magnar shall always have my sword and he shall have my son's. My line is bound to yours and we shall fight and die for the Thane o' the Low Thenns until the Long Night comes about again.” You grew tired of Old Barr's ramblings quite some time ago and take the opportunity to step away from him. The old man's fist rises to his shirt of scales once more in a proud salute, his stance straightening.

“I expect nothing else. I will see you outside and you will vouch for me with the rest, Barr.” Without waiting for a response, you turn away from Old Barr to stride away. The hunched figure of Magda is waiting for you by the flames of the hearth, where the corpse of Get has burnt away to nothing. Her wrinkled, haggard face turns up to look at you expectantly and in return, you offer a grunt and nod. You are ready to stand before the Low Thenns and become their thane. The crone turns to face the others and cries out, her voice carrying throughout the chamber and rising even above the fire's roar. She's got a strong set of lungs, even in her old age.

“If there are any that would stand against the rightful Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns, let them speak now!” The various groups scattered throughout the hall fall silent as they turn their attention to Magda, all eyes resting on the venerable healer and you, the new thane standing at her side. You didn't think that the old hag carried such authority. Yet after your show of strength earlier, there are none that dare voice any concern about your ascension. Silence reigns in Bronzheld, with no sound to be heard other than the crackling of the hearth's fire. It is clear as day, you have earned their respect as well.

“Then it is settled,” she cries out, breaking the silence and pointing towards the entrance with a crooked finger. “Go to your people Aethan, Voice of the Magnar, Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns. Your council shall stand beside you and all that look upon you shall serve.” There's a great deal of pomp and ceremony in her words, more than you're used to hearing from the haggard old woman. Then again, this is a special occasion. With your long axe in one hand and your father's skull in the other, wearing extravagant furs, the runes of ruling and the cooling blood of a barbarian that dared to oppose you, you make your way through the entrance of Bronzheld to meet the sun's light outside, and the eyes of hundreds, Low Thenns and barbarians alike, all bound to serve you.

Yet what do you say to convince them? What impression do you wish to leave, what sort of thane do you want them to see on the first day of your rule?

>Gain their affection through charisma. Smile and show compassion and sympathy, get them to adore and admire their new thane. (This will require a Persuasion, Charm roll.)
>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)
>Focus not on your rise, but on the fall of your enemies. Anyone that has ever wronged the people of Bronzestone shall be made to suffer. (This will require a Persuasion, Incite roll.)
>You are thane, that is all that matters. You demand the obedience of your people and those that do not show it will be punished, if not killed. (This will require a Persuasion, Intimidate roll.)

>>2156628
>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)

>>2156628
>>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)

>>2156628
>Gain their affection through charisma. Smile and show compassion and sympathy, get them to adore and admire their new thane. (This will require a Persuasion, Charm roll.)

I'd like to do this were we have the people eating out of the palm of our hands. Less likely to have a knife in the gut in the dark.

>>2156628
>>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)

>>2156628
>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)

>>2156628
>Tell the truth, how you wish to be greater than any previous thane, how you plan on bringing a new age of prosperity to Bronzestone. (This will require a Persuasion, Convince roll.)

>Please roll 4d6 for Persuasion, taking best of three. Response will be written at some point tomorrow.

Rolled 6, 4, 4, 5 = 19 (4d6)

>>2157122
heres hoping I don't blow it

Rolled 2, 4, 2, 4 = 12 (4d6)

>>2157122

Rolled 1, 2, 3, 6 = 12 (4d6)

>>2157122
>>2157130
Pretty good, here to steal the show though

>>2157122

Late to the party but great beginning of the quest! Already immensely enjoying it, Plasma.

>>2157130
>>2157167
>>2157201
>Aethan rolled 19, 12 and 12 on 4D.
>Difficulty: 12.
>Two degrees; great success.

Even softened as they are by the dreary clouds above, the sun's brilliant rays assault your eyes as you step out from the dim, flame-lit comfort of Bronzheld. For a moment you are blinded, then your vision adapts to the new light. Before you lies a winding path of steps carved into the stony outcrop that your hall sits atop of, in all of its gleaming black glory. The stairs curve back and forth down the crag's side until it comes to an end at a softer slope, where the village of Bronzestone begins.

Six jagged towers of greasy black rock rise from the earth in a ring around the crag, each less than half the height they must have been so many years ago. What's left of their spires can be found nearby, jutting out of the soil at demented angles from where they must have fallen. Beside these structures, the walls that once linked them either lean over crazily, ready to topple at any moment, or have gaping hopes torn in them, their remnants scattered across the ground nearby. A few hundred yards away and a similar circle of twelve smaller towers can be found, encircling the central fortifications and even more decrepit than they are.

A man can scarcely take ten strides without coming across some vestige of the once great castle sticking out of the soil, a fact that the Low Thenns have taken advantage of. A little over half of those headless towers are now capped with roofs of tarred thatch, transformed into grain silos, smithies and storehouses. Where ancient ramparts look ready to topple, there are sturdy beams of ironwood to support them and hairy, horned sheep and aurochs fenced in beneath the shelter they provide. Some of the misshapen husks that were once the spires of Bronzestone's towers have been hollowed out to house clansmen, while others have been hewn into bricks to build hovels that dot the landscape. Truly, your people have made this land their own but you dream of it being greater still.

You look down upon them, the milling masses of Low Thenns and barbarians alike, as they gather before the steps that lead towards your hall. Men and women, old and young, they are all here to witness your ascension, six or seven hundred of them. You know that most of them are here only out of obligation, especially the foreign savages that don't care who rules over them. Their minds will change when you lead them to glory. A few heads turn up to look your way as you stand before them at the crag's edge, your war leaders soon emerging to stand by your side. Sten and Gulbrand to your left, Dagny and Old Barr to your right. Magda lurks by the entrance to Bronzheld; her part in this ceremony is over.

Dagny is the first to step forward, perhaps a little too hastily. You catch her casting a fearful look your way out of the corner of her eye, hesitating only for a moment before she rips her battle axe from her side and raises it high above her head. It's a pilfered thing forged of steel, taken from the corpse of a crow. The boar of a woman opens her mouth to bellow, her jowls wobbling as she calls out to the people below.

“I give my axe to Aethan, Voice of the Magnar an' Thane of Bronzestone an' the Low Thenns!"

Old Barr is the next to step forward, his stare fixed on the crowd below. There's no hesitation when he pulls his longsword free from its sheath and points it skyward, nor is there a lack of enthusiasm and devotion in his thunderous voice. The weathered bronze of the blade he wields and the scales he wears catch the light of day as he announces his loyalty to your before Low Thenn and savage alike.

“I live and die by the will o' Aethan, Voice o' the Magnar, Thane o' Bronzestone and the Low Thenns!”

You catch Sten and Gulbrand sharing looks, before finally the scoutmaster relents and steps forward next. Taking up his bow, the mop-haired man hefts his unstrung bow into the air and calls out, his voice the softest so far. He's never been an eager sort, nor is he used to roaring commands on the field of battle as your other war leaders are. You doubt that the crowds below can hear his words, but the gesture is all that matters.

“I serve Aethan, Voice of the Magnar and Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns!”

Then there's another pause as Gulbrand stubbornly remains where he stands, long enough for to turn his way and glare at the burly warrior. Your eyes meet and a moment passes before he finally relents, bowing his head to you with a grunt. The brute then turns to face the people of Bronzestone and unstraps his greatsword from where it rests on his back, grabbing the sheathed slab of bronze by its scabbard and hauling it up above his head. He screams just as mightily as Old Barr, if not moreso, his voice ringing throughout the settlement.

“I stand by Aethan, Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns! Any foe of his is a foe of mine!”

Finally, it is your turn. The cool wind of the Far North ruffles your hair and your greatcloak as you step forward, the runes of ruling that scar your pallid chest and throat exposed for your people to behold. You rest the butt of your long axe against the stone beneath you as you clutch its haft with one hand, while your other grasps the shining bronze skull of Urgost, your father, the man that raised you for this moment. You lift it into the air above you head, presenting it for all of Bronzestone to behold.

“My father's time has past,” you begin, roaring down at the clansmen below. “He brought peace to Bronzestone and its people, he kept us united during hard times! Without his wisdom, our clan would have fractured long ago. His deeds shall never be forgotten and he shall rest with those who came before him, until the Long Night comes once more!” You lower his skull before you continue.

“Yet peace is not all that I wish for! Survival is not enough! We have rested for too long and become too content with what we have, when the world is just waiting for us to claim it! Beneath my rule, we shall swell our numbers, we shall expand our territory and we shall see to it that there is no tribe or clan in the North that can match our might! I swear this to you now, our clan will become greater than it has ever been and Bronzestone shall be envied even by the kneelers of the South!”

“Nothing shall keep us from our rightful destiny, our place as the greatest of the First Men and the Free Folk! The Night's Watch and its crows will not stop us, nor will their Wall! No man and no beast will stand between us and glory! I, Aethan, Voice of the Magnar, Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns, will see our clan prosper as no other has. I will see those that would keep us from greatness butchered and forgotten! I will see this place restored to its former glory, a ruin no more! I will see you, the people of Bronzestone, rule over the North with no equal! This, I swear!”

You scream your last words down at the clansmen below and they cheer back, raising their fists and weapons in a salute. It is a roar of approval that fills your ears, that makes your heart swell, that confirms the truth once and for all. You are thane now, and these are your people. There are those that do not applaud your promises of greatness but they are few and far between, vastly outnumbered by those loyal to you. You can even see immigrant barbarians shriek their praises, as enraptured by your words as any Low Thenn. You step back away from the crag's edge along with your council, the applause still raging on below.

“Good speech, thane,” Gulbrand grunts as you turn to face your war leaders. He lowers the tip of his greatsword's scabbard to the ground, resting his weight on the weapon's hilt. “Now we've got all that fucking pomp out of the way, let's get back to our lives. What'll you have us do, thane?”

“I've gotten my orders already,” Sten mutters, scratching across his throat with his nails. “Our thane's commanded that my men and I watch over the Sealskins, make sure they don't come any closer than they already are.”

“Sound,” is all that Old Barr offers in reply.

“I'd be more worried about those Crowbane fucks coming back, but I'm not about to challenge our thane's choices.” Gulbrand's head swivels back to face you. “Guess that leaves either my men or Old Barr's to defend Bronzestone, the rest'll be supporting the clan.”

“What about my raiders?” That's Dagny joining the conversation at last, curling back up her upper lip in a snarl at Gulbrand. “Urgost has had 'em slavin' away, farmin' and foragin' for months now. They need fuckin' axes in their hands again before they forget how to use 'em!”

“Urgost had your raiders working the rye because they're shit, Dagny,” Gulbrand replies bluntly, earning a quiet snicker from Sten. “It's what you get for allowing savages into your ranks. Wouldn't surprise me if they don't know how to use those fucking axes in the first place.”

>Maintaining a military in the Far North is difficult. A tribe's warriors are the men and women of that tribe who take up arms in times of need, not professional soldiers that do nothing but fight. They are needed as hunters, foragers, builders and craftsmen, helping the tribe survive in the hostile environment beyond the Wall.
>Each month, you can have a number of units active depending on your Population. This represents how many warriors your tribe can afford to have battle ready at all times without impairing your tribe.
>At 0 Population, you can have 0 units active throughout a month.
>At 1-10 Population, you can have 1 unit active throughout a month.
>At 11-20, you can have 2 units active throughout a month.
>At 21-30, you can have 3 units active throughout a month.
>And so on.
>You can activate an inactive unit in emergencies, as long as it is only active for a few days at a time. If a unit is active for more than seven days of a month, it counts as being active for that month. Otherwise, it counts as being inactive.
>At the end of a month, if the number of units that was active for that month exceeds your tribe's limit, your tribe's people suffers the consequences of not having enough hunters and gatherers to support its population. Your tribe loses 1 population for each active unit that exceeds the limit.

>Bronzestone has 19 Population, therefore it can have 2 units active throughout the month.
>You have already ordered Sten to scout your borders, which will activate the unit of Trained Scouts that he leads.
>Which other unit do you wish to activate?

>Old Barr's Host (Veteran Infantry)
>Gulbrand's Host (Veteran Infantry)
>Dagny's Raiders (Trained Raiders)

>In addition, are there any other comments that you wish to make to your war leaders at this time? This is the time to make suggestions

>>2157828
We could certainly have some utility in dagny's force in harassing the crows or whoever else. So id put one in for her raiders. Guldbrand I would put up just to keep an eye on him and his forces. Im thinking we should have Barr stand his forces down in the case of a contingency plan since he is the most loyal of the three. And personally id rather keep him safe since he is quite the help, mabye personally next to us as a bodyguard.

I dont have any good ideas for other comments really.

>>2157824
>“I stand by Aethan, Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns! Any foe of his is a foe of mine!”

More ally than vassal methinks

>Old Barr's Host (Veteran Infantry)

Gulbrand is not yet ready to take orders from us and we don't have anyone to raid yet

>>2157828
>Old Barr's Host (Veteran Infantry)
I trust him about as far as I can throw him. That's still more than I trust Gulbrand.

>>2157828
The Crowbane seem a little bit cocky this days. What abot using the Raiders for a preemtive strike to begin this new era?

>>2157828
>>Old Barr's Host (Veteran Infantry)

>>2157920
I mean not to make a full on forntal assault, but rather to enter their territories, raid some of their villages and capture some food and wives.

This way we can get some rep with the young warriors.

>>2157938
Yeah ill put my vote >>2157857 towards the raiders

>>2157828
>Old Barr's Host (Veteran Infantry)

“Barr, your men will watch over Bronzestone. Dagny, Gulbrand, have your warriors stand down and work the land. Be ready to take up your arms if anything happens.” Only Dagny seems unhappy with your plan, but the beady-eyed sow knows better than to challenge your authority after your earlier display. “I don't plan on having you two be idle forever though. Sten, you say that the Crowbane have left their lands empty. Have they all gone?”

“Most of them, thane,” the scoutmaster bobs his head. “All but those who aren't combat ready. Mothers, elders, children, that sort of thing, scraping a living off of the land while the rest of them are off pilfering some other tribe. They've been gone for months now, wouldn't shock me if the Crowbane went South of the Wall for their plundering.”

“They can't have taken everything they own with them,” you reply. “There must be some wealth that the Crowbane have hidden in their forests. In the coming months, we should take this chance to send your men in, Dagny. You can rob them of everything that they have left behind while their backs are turned.” Dagny's pout slides off of her face at last and she gives a sharp nod, thudding her fist against her bust in a salute. It's Gulbrand's turn to frown beneath that well-groomed beard of his as he speaks up.

“So this is the path to greatness, thane? Stealing from mothers and their fucking babes while the warriors are away?”

“Feel no pity for them, Gulbrand. They are savages,” says Old Barr. “They'd do the same to us if we gave them the chance. There's no tactic that's unfair in the fight against a foe as vicious as the Crowbane.” Sten and Dagny both murmur their agreement, leaving Gulbrand outnumbered three-to-one. The fiery-haired warrior remains silent for a long moment before he utters a defeated grunt, muttering one last remark.

“I don't like the thought of fighting a foe that can't even defend itself but if it's good for our clan, so be it.”

“I will have more to say about this another time,” you continue after Gulbrand is finished with his outburst. “For now, Barr's men will be guarding Bronzestone and Sten's will be watching the Sealskins for any sudden moves. If there is nothing else any of you have to say, I have other matters to attend to.” Dagny's the first to break away, grateful for a chance to escape from your presence. With informal bows and salutes, the other three make their departure as well. Below, the crowds that milled about to observe your ascension have dispersed as well, going about their daily lives. You don't blame them. In a land as harsh as the North, you can't take more than a moment's break from the pursuit of survival.

“You did well,” says a voice that comes from behind you. You swivel about to see the hunched figure of Magda only a few feet away, supporting herself with the aid of a staff. “You got all of the council to vouch for you, even Gulbrand, and you have the support of the people. Whether you can hold onto this loyalty forever is another matter but today was a success.”

“I will come to you when I need runes read and wounds mended, Magda,” you snap. “You know as well as I do that I was born to rule, so don't be so surprised when I do it well. Your words are not needed.” At the very least, there's no resistance from the crone when you command and berate her. Unlike your war leaders, she knows her place, she obeys without hesitation. Her loyalty is beyond reproach, although you dare not say such things out loud. Heeding your words, she stoops low in an almost worshipful bow before she continues.

“As you wish, thane. Aera and Ulgin both wish to see you, but I overheard your conversation with Old Barr. You should go to the godswood by the Mossfalls as you promised. I remember that Urgost visited the Cliff Face frequently. Whenever he had doubts, he would pray before that heart tree and the next day, his resolve would be like iron. Perhaps you will find a similar peace there.”

>Speak to your little brother and sister first. Family comes first, especially now your father is gone and you want to hear whatever Ulgin and Aera have to say before you leave to speak to the Magnar in the godswood.
>Go to the godswood first. The sun is slowly beginning to descend behind the blanket of grey clouds that conceals it and you want to be back in Bronzestone before it is dark. Aera and Ulgin can wait.
>It is unorthodox but perhaps you should take your brother and sister with you to pray before the Cliff Face. Traditionally, a man prays before a heart tree alone but you are no ordinary man, you are thane.

>>2158963
Bring them with us to talk while we walk to the tree. Explain it's importance and have them wait for us while we pray then head back.

>>2158981
>That's a suitable fourth option, I'll allow it if people wnat to go for it.

>>2158963
>Go to the godswood first. The sun is slowly beginning to descend behind the blanket of grey clouds that conceals it and you want to be back in Bronzestone before it is dark. Aera and Ulgin can wait.

>>2158963
>Bring them with us to talk while we walk to the tree. Explain it's importance and have them wait for us while we pray then head back.

>>2158981
This

>>2159045
This

>>2159045
Supporting

>>2159045
Supportan

>>2159045
Should we bring a bodyguard or two to guard them while they are alone?

>>2160187
Our position and reputation as thane is more than enough protection

>>2160260
This nigga gets it

“This is a chance for them to learn, Magda. They must understand what I will do as thane. Go find my brother and sister and bring them to me.” The crone bows her head and turns to depart, shuffling away. You are left standing by the crag's edge, staring down at the village below, where your people go about their daily lives. After all of that ceremony, after everything you had said, everything seems so normal, so peaceful. That will change in time; you will see Bronzestone become great, even if you need to drag it kicking and screaming into the future. With that, you turn and walk back into the oily comfort of Bronzheld.

Time passes.

You have departed Bronzestone with your brother and sister in tow. Snow crunches beneath your boots as you walk beside the Tingleam, winding as it does between proud soldier pines. The further you get away from the ruins, the thicker the forest becomes. For whatever reason, nothing grows near where the black stone stands. Here however, nature thrives. Small creatures flit between branches and undergrowth, scurrying about in the shade, killing and eating and breeding and living. This is how the common savages of the North live as well, content to just survive. You are above such a barbaric cycle. You will bring order to the Low Thenns, perhaps all of the Free Folk.

The sound of lighter footfalls drag you out of your brooding and you glance over your shoulder, towards Ulgin and Aera. The scrawny boy turns over the skull of your father in his hands, fixated on it as he trails after you, his fair hair hanging before his eyes while he stares down at all that's left of the old thane. Aera, on the other hand, has taken to distracting herself from Urgost's end with work. The tiny grey-eyed girl scurries from one bush to the next, picking berries and buds and gathering them in her basket, her lips forming a thin line and her brow furrowed in focus. Everyone deals with death in their own way, you suppose.

“I am thane now,” you say at last, breaking the silence. “I am thane, which means I am the Voice of the Magnar as well. Though our people left Thenn a hundred years ago, we still serve the Magnar. I only speak for him.” Your teeth grind. Everything you are saying goes against what your father has always told you. How can you rule if you are just the servant of another, even if that other is the God and King of the First Men?

“Gulbrand says he's just a man,” Aera calls out distractedly as she stops by a bush, tearing away a branch covered in plump red berries. She turns it over in her hand, plucking one of the berries and sniffing at it before she pops them into her basket, one after the other. “I like Gulbrand, he says what he thinks.”

“He might have been a man before but when he became Magnar, he became the God and King of the First Men. Whoever the Magnar of Thenn is, we serve him.” A sound of frustration comes from your pale-haired sister once you are done with your explanation. She picks the last berry from the branch and snaps the twig, discarding it over her shoulder.

“Why is the Magnar some man in Thenn?” Aera huffs as she stops again, reaching up to pull a sprig of swollen buds from a nearby conifer. “Why wasn't Pa Magnar? Why can't you be Magnar?”

“Don't let Old Barr hear you say that.” Your brother pipes up at last as he looks up from the bronzed skull, glaring over his shoulder at Aera. His eyes are still red from weeping. “Magnars can only come from the Magnar's line. Just like thanes can only come from Aethan's line now.”

“But Pa always said that a man killed Grandpa to become thane,” your sister pouts. “Why can't you kill the Magnar and take his place, Aethan?”

“Old Barr will tan your hide if he hears you said that,” chides Ulgin.

“Anyone that harms either of you will have me to answer me,” you bark over your shoulder at them, putting an end to their bickering. “But this is the way things are. The Low Thenns serve the Magnar just as the Thenns do. Together, we are the last of the First Men and we live to serve our God and King.” Despite your words, a fire rises within you. How can you ever reign over the North if you are always going to be second to another?

Before you can continue, you catch a glimpse of your destination in the distance. The white bark of a weirwood catches the dying light of the day and as you turn away from the stream and draw closer to it, you can see more of them. This is the godswood that your father came to whenever he wishes to speak with the Magnar. This is where you shall hear his commands for yourself.

“Aera, Ulgin, look after each other. I will return once I am done with this.” With that, you turn to enter the godswood, to stand before the Cliff Face.

>You will pray in earnest. Despite your frustration, you are meant to serve the Magnar and you will do so to the best of your ability. You will hear whatever he has to say to you.
>You are only here to satisfy Old Barr's zealotry. The Cliff Face is just a tree. You will remain long enough to claim that you spoke to the Magnar, then you will return to home.
>You will not be second to anyone. You will use this chance to rebel against the Magnar, to tell him that the Low Thenns are yours, that Bronzestone shall serve no one other than you.
>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready.

>>2160315
>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready.

>>2160312
>>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready.

It is too soon for us to rebel against the Magnar. The time will come. For now, let´s prepare for the present.

>>2160315
>You will pray in earnest. Despite your frustration, you are meant to serve the Magnar and you will do so to the best of your ability. You will hear whatever he has to say to you.

>>2160315
This is an interesting choice.

Does Magnar really have to come from the same bloodline?

>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready.

>>2160314
>Jesus Christ.
“Anyone that harms either of you will have to answer to me,” you bark over your shoulder at them, putting an end to their bickering.
>Now I'm no longer having a fucking stroke and I've corrected that ridiculous error, I'll answer this question.
>>2160335
>Typically, tribes of the Free Folk are some sort of meritocracy. The leader is whoever is strong enough to fight off any potential usurpers and whoever is smart enough to lead the tribe to prosperity. If he's not strong enough, he gets killed and replaced. If he's not smart enough, his tribesmen abandon him to find more prosperous tribes.
>However, the Thenns are unique in that they have a lot in common with the South, such as law and lords. They even operate according to hereditary rule, unlike most of the Free Folk. The line of the Magnar supposedly goes back to before the Wall was built, descended from an ancient hero of the First Men that fought back the Others during the Battle for the Dawn.

>>2160315
>You will pray in earnest. Despite your frustration, you are meant to serve the Magnar and you will do so to the best of your ability. You will hear whatever he has to say to you.

>>2160314
>>You will pray in earnest. Despite your frustration, you are meant to serve the Magnar and you will do so to the best of your ability. You will hear whatever he has to say to you.

>>2160315
>You are only here to satisfy Old Barr's zealotry. The Cliff Face is just a tree. You will remain long enough to claim that you spoke to the Magnar, then you will return to home.

>>2160315
I forgot to add to >>2160425 that if there s a lack of support I will support

>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready

In which case, I'll close it off here.

Going with:
>This is an opportunity, not for prayer but for planning. There are no distractions here. You will be able to focus on the future and when you return to Bronzestone, you will be ready

This quest is just so much yes. Take all of my internets plasma

You wander past the weirwoods, their white bark gleaming and their red leaves swaying in the spring breeze. The further you walk, the thinner their ranks until the forest comes to an abrupt end, less than a hundred yards away from a sudden drop. The roaring ocean stretches out to the Eastern horizon before you, the sky above it beginning to darken as the sun continues its descent to the West. You walk in the same direction as the cliff's edge, your eyes moving from one weirwood to the next until at last, they land upon the heart tree.

It stands closer to the overhang than the others, a giant compared to the weirwood trees scattered behind it. Its trunk is covered in many swollen burls, the gnarled protrusions covering almost the entirety of the heart tree except for its face. Found directly facing the ocean, its bark and lumps have been carved away with great care to form the features of a jolly old man. It has smiling, bloody red eyes complete with crow's feet, a thick, bulbous nose and hearty jowls that hang about a toothless, gummy grin. This is the Cliff Face, staring out towards the East and greeting the sun's rise every day with a smile and a laugh.

You don't know why the ancient inhabitants of this cliff chose this weirwood as their heart tree, nor why they chose that face. As the years go by, the waves will batter the cliffs until they topple in the sea, eroding them until the Cliff Face tumbles down as well. A frown creases your features as you move to stand before the grinning features of the old man. It simply stares at you with those mirthful eyes, beads of hardened, bloody sap having collected in their corners over the years like tears of joy.

You stand in silence and linger for a moment, waiting for any voice that might come from the toothless maw. You aren't sure whether you expect a haunting whisper from faraway, the booming roar of a mighty king or anything at all. The longer you wait, the more obvious it comes that there will be no voice. The only sound is the creaking of the branches whenever the wind causes them to sway. The cold air coming from the Shivering Sea would be enough to make any other man quiver, but for you? Its touch only brings you comfort, a welcome distraction from the the itching warmth that the sun brings.

Reluctantly, you lower yourself and kneel before the Cliff Face, your eyes falling to the hummus that has gathered about the base of the ancient tree. You can see silverfish and woodlice scuttle about in the loamy soil, oblivious to your presence even as you tower above them. They live out their tiny lives, unaware of your greatness even though you could snuff them out at any moment. Even if you did, would they care? Food for thought, but you have more important things to think of.

Things such as your first day as thane and everything that you have learned during it. This is a chance for you to form your opinions, away from those that would try to sway your mind. You close your eyes and think of Bronzestone and the people that inhabit it, of the changes that you'd make.

First of all, the state of your council. A band of bickering braggarts, to the last. They're talented and all have the loyalty of their men, yet they all serve themselves before they serve you. Dagny is a rat that despises you out of suspicion and serves out of fear, Barr is a decrepit zealot that serves the Magnar of Thenn first and foremost and Gulbrand is too stubborn and independent to be trusted. Sten seems reasonable, if only because you don't fully understand him or the source of his loyalty.

>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.
>They are too unruly. You need to get rid of at least one or two of them and have their men elect another leader from their ranks. You might be able to enforce your own will on their replacements a little better.
>This method does not work. The thane should be responsible for who leads his men, this is not something that your warriors should decide for themselves. This way, you will be able to select leaders that are loyal to you.

Then there is the nature of the cultural conflict within Bronzestone, between those descended from the original migrant Thenns and those that have joined your clan after abandoning their old tribes. Since your grandfather Aenyr allowed outsiders to migrate to Bronzestone, the traditions that the Low Thenns inherited from their homeland have clashed with the habits of the barbarians that populate the North. You saw this yourself today, when that idiot Get thought he had any authority to challenge your right to rule.

>You should allow the Free Folk to act as they wish and allow the Low Thenns to accept and adopt their ways. You call outsiders barbarians, but the truth is that the traditions of Thenn do nothing but hold your people back.
>You should continue the efforts of your father, Urgost. He did his best to mediate between the old and the new, to slowly integrate outsiders into Bronzestone and adapt the Low Thenns to a way of life that is required to survive in the North.
>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.
>You should put an end to this acceptance of barbarians entirely. Your father and grandfather were both wrong. Bronzestone must remain pure. The only savages you will allow among your people are the wives they take from outsiders.

The matter of faith is an issue is as well. While there are those like Old Barr that still believe that the Magnar is the God and King of the First Men, the opinion that he is just a man is becoming more prevalent thanks to foreign influence. Gulbrand is the strongest advocate of this line of thought, with his insistence that the Magnar has no authority over Bronzestone.

>You should keep the laws of your father, that allow men to worship whatever gods they wish. Let the Low Thenns devote themselves to the Magnar while the savages worship their gods of land and beasts.
>You should ensure that Bronzestone in its entirety is devoted to the Magnar. It is by the Magnar's will that this clan exists at all, and daring to worship any other god before the God and King of the First Men is sacrilege.
>You should put an end to worship of the Magnar. He is just a man, the chieftain of a faraway land. He should mean nothing to Bronzestone, yet so many of your people devote themselves to him. You will put a stop to that.
>You should take up the mantle of Magnar for yourself. For too long, your lineage has been second to that of Thenn. If a man can become a god through becoming Magnar, why shouldn't you take that title for yourself?

Finally, there is the problem of neighbouring factions. The Crowbane, the Sealskins, the Ice Wives and the Farstriders. Those aren't the only ones either. Countless tribes fill the North, each eking out a living in the harsh land beyond the Wall. It is from these clans that migrants come, drawn to the more sedentary lifestyle of Bronzestone. It is also from these tribes that raiders come, seeking to plunder your bronze and steal your women.

>You should maintain your father's policies of cautious coexistence. As long as they stay away from the settlement of Bronzestone, outsiders are welcome to come through your land and trade with your people.
>You should seek a closer relationship with other tribes and to tie them to Bronzestone through pacts and treaties. You would be able to share weapons and resources; every clan involved would benefit from such cooperation.
>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.
>You should put an end to any other tribe you come across. There is no room in the North for any clan other than your own. If a man wishes to live, he shall live under your banner. Any that resist shall die.

Only now, away from the hubbub of Bronzestone, do you see clearly. Only in the tranquillity of the godswood are you able to find that clarity required to solidify your thoughts.

>Choose one option from each of the four selections above. Your choices will affect Aethan's preferences and how I will write Aethan for the foreseeable future. None of these choices will cause Aethan to do anything immediately. They only serve to help cement his character.

>Also:
>>2160626
Reluctantly, you lower yourself and kneel before the Cliff Face, your eyes falling to the hummus that has gathered about the base of the ancient tree.
>Humus, not hummus. The heart tree is not surrounded with mashed chickpeas.

>>2160630
>>They are too unruly. You need to get rid of at least one or two of them and have their men elect another leader from their ranks. You might be able to enforce your own will on their replacements a little better.
Is what I want, but to get the other things done with out to much push back we need to choose
>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.
So long as we get our affairs in order, We can rethink who should stay under us later. With out giving them to much power. See about slowly siphoning some of their powers.
>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.
>You should ensure that Bronzestone in its entirety is devoted to the Magnar. It is by the Magnar's will that this clan exists at all, and daring to worship any other god before the God and King of the First Men is sacrilege.
>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.

>>2160630
>>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.
>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.
>You should keep the laws of your father, that allow men to worship whatever gods they wish. Let the Low Thenns devote themselves to the Magnar while the savages worship their gods of land and beasts.
>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat

>>2160634
>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.

They have swore themselves to us. They don´t backstab us, we don´t cut them down. If we feel the need and they don´t hold their end of the bargain, heads roll.

>You should continue the efforts of your father, Urgost. He did his best to mediate between the old and the new, to slowly integrate outsiders into Bronzestone and adapt the Low Thenns to a way of life that is required to survive in the North.

Our Father was a great leader. We shall honor him by respecting and expanding his legacy. Bronze is not only made out of copper, but needs tin too to be stronger than petty rock.

>You should keep the laws of your father, that allow men to worship whatever gods they wish. Let the Low Thenns devote themselves to the Magnar while the savages worship their gods of land and beasts.

Let the savages be savages as long as they are willing to fight for Bronzestone. Nothing is more important than that.

>You should seek a closer relationship with other tribes and to tie them to Bronzestone through pacts and treaties. You would be able to share weapons and resources; every clan involved would benefit from such cooperation.
>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.

We will held high our banner, so all can join us to become something greater. As long as they are willing to accept some sort of civilized status, they will be free to fight alongside us.

However, anyone that defies us will taste our blades.

>>2160899
To expand on the last post: We are alone. Thenn is miles away and we are surrounded by savages. If we press the savages too much, they will rebel or flee. Let´s continue and expand the work of our father, and bring more of the savages into the fold so we can proclaim us King Beyond The Wall

>>2160634
>They are too unruly. You need to get rid of at least one or two of them and have their men elect another leader from their ranks. You might be able to enforce your own will on their replacements a little better.

>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.

>You should take up the mantle of Magnar for yourself. For too long, your lineage has been second to that of Thenn. If a man can become a god through becoming Magnar, why shouldn't you take that title for yourself?

>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.

>>2160630
>>2160634
Supporting:
>>2160899

>>2160630
>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.

>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.

>You should take up the mantle of Magnar for yourself. For too long, your lineage has been second to that of Thenn. If a man can become a god through becoming Magnar, why shouldn't you take that title for yourself?

>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.

>Aethan the Mighty

Going with:
>You should keep them around. They're war leaders because they're the most talented and their warriors trust them to lead them to victory. If you can continue to control them, they will serve you well.
>You should make these savages to learn what obedience means, to follow the traditions of your people. The laws and discipline of the Low Thenns are what make Bronzestone strong and they cannot be lost, no matter the cost.
>You should keep the laws of your father, that allow men to worship whatever gods they wish. Let the Low Thenns devote themselves to the Magnar while the savages worship their gods of land and beasts.
>You should dominate other tribes that the Bronzestone clan come across. Should you get them to serve you, you will be able to demand tithes from these vassals and command that they fight and die for Bronzestone in combat.

>In addition, please roll 3d6, accepting the best of three.

Rolled 3, 5, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>>2161082

Rolled 5, 5, 6 = 16 (3d6)

>>2161082

Rolled 6, 5, 4 = 15 (3d6)

>>2161082

>>2161153
Pretty gud

>>2161196
Yeah I am.

>>2161106
>>2161153
>>2161171
>Aethan rolled 9, 16, 15 on 3D.
>Difficulty: 9. Success.
>Difficulty: 12. Success.
>Difficulty: 15. Success.

You are Aethan, son of Urgost, Voice of Magnar and Thane of Bronzestone and the Low Thenns. How many times have you heard that today? Yet that last part is what rings truest for you; the blood of the Low Thenns runs through your veins and refuse to forget it. Your father and his father before him were both right in allowing outsiders to join the clan and bolster your ranks, but as they did so they forgot to give these migrant discipline. Their will is as brittle as the stone they wielded before your clan thrust bronze into their unworthy hands. You will make them worthy.

You know it now, what is required for victory. The strength and spirit of the Low Thenns are the key. Let the savages worship their wild gods, for you do not require their faith. No, what you demand is their obedience. If they wish to live, they will live under your banner. If they wish to be welcome in your tribe, they shall be beaten until they are broken and born again with hearts of bronze, as Low Thenns. If they do not, they shall either kneel and serve as vassals second to your tribe, or they shall die.

These thoughts of domination resound throughout your mind, occupying every corner of it. The cheering of hundreds fills your ears once more, as though you are back at Bronzestone and witnessing your ascension once more. Against the black of your eyelids, you can't help but envision the joyous faces that you witnessed during that moment, proud to serve beneath their rightful thane. You know now more than ever that you are the one destined to lead them to supremacy.

Your eyes open.

The enraptured face before you is not of any savage or Low Thenn, but of the cheerful Cliff Face. The distant roaring is no crowd, but the sound of the waves crashing against the stony beach far below. Even as you return to reality however, the thoughts of supremacy remain within your mind, filling you with renewed strength and purpose. You have accomplished your dreams, you have become thane as your father said you would. Now you have new ambitions, a new purpose to strive towards. One that nothing will hold you back from.

You turn to depart, leaving behind the smiling heart tree to stare across the sea at the horizon. Its grin remains long after you are gone, its sap-stained eyes fixed on the darkness slowly stretching across the sky from the East. With every moment that passes, night draws ever closer until its darkness has blanketed the sky and the light of day has abandoned your land.

>That will bring an end to the first session of A Tale of Gods and Men – Bronzestone Quest. Thanks to everyone that took part and to everyone that has read this far.

>For effortlessly defeating Get, Aethan has earned 2 EXP.
>For obtaining unanimous support for his ascension, Aethan has gained 2 EXP and Bronzestone has gained 2 Law.
>For convincing the common people of Bronzestone to accept him as leader, Aethan has gained 1 EXP and Bronzestone has gained 1 Law.
>For completion of the first session and a successful first day as thane, Aethan has gained 3 EXP.
>Aethan's total EXP: 8.

>If anyone has any feedback or criticism, I'd be happy to hear it. I still haven't got into a sensible rhythm of posting yet. I either take far too long between updates or I rush them at the cost of quality. I'm also not too comfortable about my pacing either but I'll admit that I'm rusty after four years without running a quest.

>I'll have to a look at my schedule and see when I can next possibly run, although it likely won't be until 2018. If you use Twitter to keep an eye on quest updates, feel free to follow me here:
https://twitter.com/HouseHarrock

>I'll also try to write up a few documents for the history and culture of Bronzestone as well as the important personalities of this quest, when I can.

>>2161371
Thanks for QMing Plasma! A thoroughly entertaining session.

>>2161371
Love it mate, great stuff!

>>2161371
Was pretty damn cool to read, always thought that the free folk needed to band together to become the true kingdom of the north.

If we ever get the chance we need to find stonemasons, miners, and carpenters from the south when and if we ever raid there

>>2161526

Eh, Thenns are better then wildling cunts, a true nation as opposed to scattered barbarians.

Dorne may brag about 'Unbowed, unbent, unbroken', but we're the only true realm in Westeros the Dragons never bought to heel.

>>2161526
>>2162145
Although Bronzestone is one of the more civilized clans beyond the Wall, it's far from being a true kingdom. The Far North has a population of over a hundred thousand, and Bronzestone only has six or seven hundred inhabitants, with a little over half of those being Low Thenns. Aethan's got a long way to go before he can be considered king of anything.
>>2161608
Noted, should you ever decide to launch a raid on the lands South of the Wall.

Also, taking suggestions for a better image in the OP than the piece of garbage I used for this thread.

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>>2162222

Sorry for that, I meant Thenns generally, not our specific grouping of Low Thenns.

>oily black stone

Oh fuck yeah I'm in. What sort of secrets does our home hold from us yet? To be built of such old forgotten things speaks to a great past and history that we may one day discover.

Enjoyed the run Plasma. Great to see you QMing again.

>>2163259
I was wondering when someone would pick up on that and I'm not the least bit shocked that you were the first to.

Looking forward to S&S when you go back to it.

>>2163259
Obsidian?

>>2164349
No Irc there are a lot of places that are made of this shit

Asshai by the Shadow
Yeen
The base of the HighTower
Throne of Pyck
Frog Idol on the Isle of Toads
Mazes of Lorath
Five Forts of the Golden Empire.


Postulated that these structures were made by an Ancient civ now died out or mostly so that were the inspiration for Mermaids and the Drowned God. Some sort of fish/amphibious people. Possibly veiled Cthulhu mythos reference

File: High_Hrothgar_Exterior_1.jpg (302 KB, 2000x1333)

302 KB JPG

>>2162222

Schedule just opened up. Should be able to run on the 27th of December, 20:00 GMT.

Make that 22:00 GMT instead.

Urge to unite the North rising.

>>2179454
>>2167550
Plasma ded?