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You shuffled as quietly as you could out through the root cellar, and as soon as you exited, sprinted around the inn and threw open the door. As you rushed up the stairs towards Ser Greyson’s room, the man who informed you Ser Greyson wished to speak with you called out that there was no rush, that he didn’t need to see you that badly and some of the other men laugh. You finally make it up the old creaking staircase and barge down the door. You find Greyson sitting on his bed, clutching his throat and struggling to breathe.

“Greyson!”

He looks are you with panic in his eyes., “You’ve been poisoned” you half yell, before suddenly rushing him and pushing two of your fingers into his mouth, which soon has it’s intended effect and he retches up most of his dinner. As you he tries to push you off, you keep at it until your sure that you’ve gotten all you can out of his stomach. Still struggling to talk and with heavy breath he manages to get out a weak and breathless “Who?”.

“It was Bolun, he’s in league with bandits and they’re on their way. It sounds like there is going to be a raid tonight.”

Ser Greyson attempts to stand but falls short, the poison taking its deadly toll on even his stout constitution. He eyes the door as if to try and signal you, and you take his meaning. You can hear the men shouting about beer, which means Bolun has most likely come up with another barrel. You quickly descend down the stairs and in five long steps cross the room before throwing Bolun into the wall, causing him to drop the keg which breaks upon crashing back to the floor. A lively cry rises from the men and Bolun looks towards you with a surprised look.

“What in the Seven… What are you doing Manfryd?” he cries.

You pin the inn keep against the wall with your forearm and address the men with a curt yell.

“DON’T TOUCH THE BEER! THIS MAN HAS POISONED YOUR CAPTAIN! AND MAY VERY WELL HAVE POISONED YOU AS WELL!”

That gets their attention as most of the men look into their mugs, and a few even pour the contents upon the floor. A few of them start to rise from the benches and form a half circle around you and Bolun.

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“Where is the antidote? How many bandits are coming? Who are these bandits? DAMMIT WHY MAN? Why betray us?”
You could feel your temper rising. A dangerous thing at the best of times, but right now it could mean the difference between life or death.

“ANSWER ME!!” you shout as you buried a knee into the mans gut. He falls to the floor in a heap but you can hear a sound that sounds like a whimpering wheeze. As he rises you realize that he’s laughing at you.

“I don’t answer to you bastard. And come morning, your all going to be dead. DEAD YOU HEAR ME!!”

He laughs, as forcefully as he can, which isn’t much considering that he can barely catch his breath. Your temper floods over and you throw a powerful punch to the mans wind pipe. He careens to the floor, retching and choking and you instruct the men to lock him in his room, along with his daughters and to have at least two sober men guarding the door. You also post a man inside Ser Greyson’s room to keep you updated if his symptoms got worse. You were no healer, so your only hope was that his youthful vigor could keep the poison at bay.

You addressed the rest of the men, with anger still hot on your tongue.

“Men. MEN!! Listen to me. I know half of you are nearly blind with drink, but there is a force of bandits coming our ways. I figure that we’ve got three hours before they get here. So sober up, and prepare to fight. This is what you signed up for isn’t it?

Perhaps the fact that so many were drunk was a good thing, because at least they took your less than inspiring speech to heart and rushed out the door to yelling to the men still on guard and prepare themselves for battle. You in turn sit down with the sergeants in the inn and began to plan the defence of the lumber town, as you’d heard a few of the men start calling it.

“Right. Now I overheard Bolun and a bandit down in the root cellar. Apparently, there is a tunnel down there and a force will be coming up through there, whilst another force comes out of the forest and takes the men on watch. Odds are we’ll be outnumbered, but I never heard what numbers they’re bringing. They’re planning on sneaking into the inn to slit our throats, whilst the rest of the men are preoccupied. “So… how are we going to see them off?” As one man rubs sleep from his eyes, and another two stare at you drunkenly, you realize that the planning of the defense will fall to you.

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Howdy anons. Hope your all ready for an action packed thread. We’re going to start right where we left off and try and try to formulate a battle plan to repel the rapscallions who are currently on route to kill you.

- Prepare for the attack on Lumber Town Ideas -
>Barricade the tunnel
>Send 10 men to hold the tunnel with spears
>Try and summon some of the geurillas, there were sure to be home lurking around (ideas for how?)
>Keep the sober men on the perimeter and use the drunks as reinforcements
>Get the towns menfolk involved etc
Just looking for some suggestions and brainstorming here. I want to let you guys be in charge of how Manfryd handles stress like this.

- Where will Manfryd lead from -
>The front, the men will need an inspiring presence on the front line
>The inn, it will do the men better to have you command from a position where you could direct them

- Ser Greyson -
Any ideas on how to save Ser Greyson? Your healing ability is woefully inadequate for the job. You do have a destiny point available, and I'm open to any arguments or ideas /qst/ might have

>>2945100
>Barricade and tunnel and set up defenses inside the inn, we don't need to bother trying to defend the entire town we simply want to survive the night.
>Set a large bonfire in the middle of town, after it has started put alot of green wood on it, this should attract the guerrillas to come investigate the situation.
> Summon the men of the town to help offering them rewards of money and better hunting rights for their town in exchange for them helping.
>Have the sober men man our defenses will forcing the drunks to drink more water to cleanse their systems before the attack.

We should lead from the front, we aren't much of a commander but we can fight pretty well.

Ser Greyson
Force feed him water till he pukes, hopefully the poison is something simple and still in his stomach

>>2945191
This sounds good to me.

Whilst you wern't much of a general, you had read books regarding stalwart last stands, glorious charges and the like. If you were to survive being outnumbered, you'd need to limit the fronts you were fighting on.

"You" pointing to the tired sober man.

"Take a few men down the root cellar and block it off with anything you can. Kegs, barrels, chairs tables. Anything that will slow them down"

With that he rounds up a few men and disappears out of the inn. Next you regard the two drunk sergeants and address the more sober of the two.

"What's your name soldier?"

"M-men call me Al." he says with only a hint of a drunken slur.

"You are to go outside and start a fire. The biggest and brightest that you can. We need to try and get the sneakjacks attention.

"Aye Sir" and he in turn dissapears out the front door.

As you face the last man, he lurches over the table and empties his stomach over the floor.

"Exactly" you mutter under your breath.

"Go and try to sober these men up as much as you can. Water, vomiting, bread. Anything."

"Yesh-yesher" he hiccoughs.

This was the hand you were dealt. You hadn't heard anything from from the guard watching Ser Greyson. A good a sign as any. Deadly nightshade was aptly named, but hopefully he could whether the effects, but that wouldn't matter if you didn't survive the battle.

You yourself strode into the town to try and wake as many men as you could. You decide to start with Ern, and cross the muddy track into the mill. After you pound on the door, he answers it sleepily, but responds quickly to the information.

He rounds up a few of his workers that arn't working out on the cuts. Tough men whose axes looked apart of their arms. The rest of the men who arise to join you with promises of coin and their livelihood.

Your men are seeing to their tasks, and as they finish they begin to assemble at the crossroads. The fire is a huge mass of firewood, and any tables that weren't used to barricade the tunnel in the cellar. The flames burned bright, and light extended all the way to the edge of the town before it was swallowed up by the shadows the tree trunks cast. You'd still stationed a few men in the cellar to alert you if they started to break through.

The men had begun to sober, although more than a few were going to be no use at all. Blind drunk and useless. This left your numbers, even after being supplemented by some of the towns folk, at an even 80 men.

Nearly 60 of them were gathered outside, and seeing as Ser Greyson was fighting his own battle, it was up to you to lead the men through this one.

"Alright lads, listen up. I know most of you don't know me, and that I don't know you. But there is a force of men who are coming here to kill you. To rape your wives and daughters. To steal your gold. If that isn't a reason to fight with me, I don't know what is.

The words sound hollow coming from your mouth. You'd never led men, nor fought in a battle. Hell you'd never even killed a man. And yet you heard a light tap. A single man was tapping his spear against his shield in a rhythmic fashion. And soon other men were joining them, before one of them started to sing. Softly at first.

"Come the night, the bat shall fly
and soon our enemies shall die

Come the night, the wolf will howl
and in the dark our men will prowl

Come the night , the wind will sing
and death to our foes it brings

Come the night, our lives are saved
and to the seven we gravely pray"

As the men continue their song, a song which you had no idea the words to, Ser Greysons guard popped his head out of the inn and signaled you that there was no change. Another hour had passed.


( I'm rolling for the poison myself, and you guys so far there are 2 more checks to pass)

You stood on the porch when you first heard the whoops. The were scattered off in the distance but they were getting closer. Your best, or rather most sober, men stood with you. And soon, you saw their silhouettes creep in front of the flames. You could feel the heat from the fire, and the slightest breeze on your skin. You could feel each link of mail that touched your wrist as you pulled your greatsword from it's sheathe. You counted 20, maybe 25. A first wave. You stepped off the porch and charged...

>3D6 for fighting please

Rolled 4, 6, 4 = 14 (3d6)

>>2945310
To the death

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

>>2945310

Rolled 5, 1, 1 = 7 (3d6)

>>2945310

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Good job with that 14 anon. Alright I'm also going to ask for 4D6 for a will test, as Manfryd just killed his first man. Time to see what the kid is made of.

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

>>2945384

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

>>2945384

Rolled 4, 2, 6, 1 = 13 (4d6)

>>2945384
Heres a third roll since nobody else is rolling.

Round 1
Manfryd Agility 3 vs Trained Raider Agility 3
Manfryd has reach therefor goes first

Manfryd: Rolled 14

~ 14 - 7 = 7 = Two degrees of success
~ 7 x 2 = 14 Damage
~ 14 damage - 2 armor = 12 damage
~ Result: Bandit Dead

You charge the first man you see. You don't even seem to be in control of your own body. All your aware of is that your stomach feels like it's trying to push it's way through your throat. As you get closer you you can begin to notice the details of the man you are about to fight. He's small, with a wiry mustache and hardly any hair atop his balding head. He also looks thin you notice, as if he hasn't eaten well in far to long. You swear you can even hear the soft rustle of his leather armor as he runs towards you.

You swing your sword in a mighty arc, using the reach to keep him at bay. He narrows his eyes at you before whooping and laughing.

"Looky here boys, we gots a fight on'r hands"

He brandishes his rusty sword and gets into his stance. As he moves in to close the distance you swing your sword again, but this time hes in to close to move out of the way. Your sword cuts through his armor like a knife through butter, and it only stops at what you can only assume are his ribs as blood spurts forth from the massive gash along the mans chest. A few errant drops even manage to make their way onto your mail, and you look at the man whilst he lays on the ground screaming.

~ Will Test ~
~ Rolled 12 vs DC:12
~Result: Passed with One degree

His body looked no different than any pig you'd ever seen slaughtered. And while his cries were human, they even sounded sort of similar. You turned about and watch the rest of your men fighting off the first wave, with shouts of encouragement as more men pour forth from the inn. One man comes rushing up from the cellar to inform you that there are bandits trying to force their way through but the barricade is holding. Good news you thought to yourself. As the one or two survivors run off into the dark to rejoin their brethren, your own men shout loudly. The first part of the night was done.

It was then that the other man came rushing out of the inn, pushing through the crowd to try and get to you.

"Manfryd...MANFRYD!! Ser Greyson Sir, he's getting worse. You exchange a dark look before ordering your men inside again, and you lead the way as you head to see your...friend?

The two of you weren't truly friends, but there was a budding respect growing there. A far cry from the glaring looks you'd received from the young man when you'd originally ridden together from the Weeping Town to Oakmoss.

When you got to his room he was clutching at his throat desperately, and thrashing about in the bed. If you didn't do something soon he was going to die.


Alright so the time has come. It's pretty early, but death waits for nobody. Ser Greyson is going to die in the next hour if we don't find a way to save him, or spend a destiny point. I won't make you guys burn it, only spend it. There also is definitely a way to save him if you guys can come up with it,or at least buy him another round, if you know anything about poisons and toxins...

So just to sum it up, Ser Greyson is the youngest knight in Oakmoss. He is the son of the castellan, and for anybody just tuning in now, hated your guts on first meeting you. Through your actions and suggestion of promoting him, he is mostly indifferent towards you. He could make for a powerful ally in the coming days, but you could also need the destiny point during the night. so without further adieu

Ser Greyson's life hangs in the balance...
> Spend a destiny point to save him
> Leave him to his fate
> Write in

>>2945453
>Go grab the man who did the poisoning and break his kneecaps till he tells us the proper antidote
>Use our nature knowledge about deadly nightshade

>>2945478
So if we use our knowledge to try and do save him I'm going to impose a penalty equal to the difference between your knowledge dice vs healing dice for a total of -4 to represent that Manfryd might know about an antidote, but has never had to actually save someone using said knowledge.

Also a heads up, the night shade dice came up as 17, so thats the number your going to have to beat with 6D6-4. I'll give it a little while to see if anyone else pops in or throws support behind it before any starts rolling though.

>>2945453
Would our knowledge nature have any clue as to what to do or if there are any herbs around that can at least buy us some time?

>>2945518
Well we can do that nature check after torturing the poisoner if that doesn't work.

>>2945521
Short Answer: Yes it can.

Long Answer: You can risk rolling it, and if you roll better than the 17, Ser Greyson will survive this round, and the number you roll will be the number the nightshade has to beat in order to finish him off. After this round, there is only one more round of danger for him, so only one additional test. Also we can try and interrogate Bolun, but there is no guarantee that he knows anything.

>>2945541
If he doesn't know anything then we have a crippled traitor, nothing to lose really.

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Alright well time for a little character info because I want to keep the story going. Manfryd normally does not go into torture, nor is he excessively cruel. However, as his vice is wrath, when his temper flares there isn't much out of the realm of possibility.

So kneecapping Bolun seems like a go.

And now I'll take a vote for what to do...

> Roll Knowledge check (6D6-4)
> Spend Destiny Point
> Let him die

>>2945577
> Roll Knowledge check (6D6-4)

>>2945577
> Roll Knowledge check (6D6-4)

>>2945577
>> Roll Knowledge check (6D6-4)

>>2945577
>> Roll Knowledge check (6D6-4)

Well, time to late fate take the wheel /QST/

Lets see them 6D6-4 please and thank you

Rolled 2, 1, 4, 4, 1, 3 - 4 = 11 (6d6 - 4)

>>2945605

Rolled 6, 2, 3, 4, 1, 5 + 4 = 25 (6d6 + 4)

>>2945605

Rolled 1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 5 - 4 = 19 (6d6 - 4)

>>2945605

Rolled 6, 6, 2, 5, 4, 2 + 4 = 29 (6d6 + 4)

>>2945605

>>2945614
>>2945664
Ya gotta put +- to get the minus with 4chan dice mates

>>2945614
This is 17 correct?

>>2945675
Yea I knew that just made a mistake

You headed back down the stairs once again, and went straight to the back room where Bolun and his daughters slept. You kicked down the door and your rage was flaring. He sheltered his daughters under his arms as they screamed in fear. You ripped them away from him in your fury, yelling for someone to take them out of the room. The edges of your vision began to go red as you throw the man into a chair.

"HOLD HIM" you ordered, bellowing to the men that followed you into the room.

You crouched down and breathed in deeply.

"Bolun, I have a very short amount of time and even less patience. You are going to tell me where the antidote is, and you are going to do it now."

As he stares into your eyes, a roiling grey storm, more furious than even the Storm God of old's wrath, you can see that he is telling the truth when he blabbers that he didn't have one.

You spun and grabbed the poker that hang above the small hearth in the room, and swung it directly into the mans knee. You heard a sickening crunch, followed by a blood curdling scream as the joint gives and the knee cap shatters. Even the men give each other dark looks as you exit the room without another word.

You rub your temples, trying to remember. There had been so many books about plants and poisons and fungi.

~ Knowledge Test to Save Ser Greyson ~
~ Rolled: 21 vs Virulence 17
~ Result: Ser Greyson survives another round

Charcoal. You'd read a general remedy to ingested poisons was to mix charcoal and water, and for the victim to imbibe the concoction. You hurriedly went behind the counter of the bar and grabbed mug before filling it with water. You then went to the large hearth and grabbed a handful of ash and mixed it in. As you entered Ser Greyson room, you empty his stomach again, resulting in only a small amount of bile coming forth. You than nearly drown the man as you force the mixture down, telling him that this will help and he only needs to keep fighting. Your eyes lock and you can see that he hasn't given up yet.

A sudden fatigue threatened to overcome you as you trudge down the stairs for the umpteenth time. You sat down at the bench for not longer than a moment before one of the men shouts your name.

"Manfryd. Theres a man out there, bearing what looks like a shred of white cloth."

You sigh heavily and stand before peering out of the window. It was true. A man armored in what looked like an old set of scale, holding a tree branch with a dirty undershirt tied to it.

You discuss it briefly with your men, before walking out the door, fully armed and armored to meet the man bearing a peace banner.

"Are you the knight? Naw, I don't see no plate. You must be the bastard than"

"I am the bastard of Markus Larkyn yes. Who are you and what do you want?"

"Names Rossmund. Or rather, Ser Rossmund of the Slayne. I'm the leader of this merry band, and the way I see it, I'm here to negotiate our way out of this little mess."

When he talks it's with a plain unassuming voice, and a pleasantness that seems morbidly out of place amidst the flames and the dead bodies that lay in the mud. Your shoulders sag and he continues...

"You and your men give up their arms, and they're allowed to walk free. All the way back to where you came from. And, you don't come pestering these fine people anymore. They don't need some little lordling coming in and trying to change things for the worse."

He smiles easily and fingers the mace at his belt casually, as if he were haggling over a chicken in a market.

"Or of course, you and I could fight it out. Ain't had a single combat in a while. You win, my men leave. I win, your men leave. Easy as pie"

> Surrender your arms and trust the man
> Fight him in single combat, at the very least their leader would be dead
> Deny him all of it, keep up the fight

>>2945736
> Fight him in single combat, at the very least their leader would be dead

Time to make that saved destiny point come in handy. Glory or death.

>>2945736
Yeah no. I do not trust anything this bastard says. Let’s just go back into the inn and hope the sneakjacks was the bonfire.

>>2945747
Man even if we win we will still be attacked.

>>2945736
>> Deny him all of it, keep up the fight

>>2945755
Large-scale combat in this system is heavily dependent on the quality of a unit's leader. We kill him now and his unit is significantly worse off for the fight ahead.

>>2945736
> Deny him all of it, keep up the fight

>>2945736
>Deny him all of it, keep up the fight

>>2945736
> Deny him all of it, keep up the fight

"I will accept you surrender if that is what you are offering, bow before me and you shall be spared the noose. If not get the fuck out of my sight."

Looks like a strong showing for giving him the finger. So heres the rough idea of what going to happen.

Main Wave Attack on the Inn

- Bandits -
~80/100 Trained Raiders above ground
~50/50 Trained Raiders in the tunnel which is barricaded and therefor useless

The Stalwart Grey Guard + Militia
25 Sober Garrison
42 Drunk Garrison
67/80 Total Garrison
14/20 Green Militia

So for the fight, it's going to be a skirmish between a disorganized Garrison, defending the inn, which has a total of -1 to morale difficulty for defending the inn, versus a unit of trained raiders.

I imagine we're going to want to give a defend order to increase our chances for defending the inn so I'll take 8D6 for the command test, agility test and first fighting test against the bandits charge.

>8D6 please

Rolled 5, 4, 5, 1, 1, 1, 6, 2 = 25 (8d6)

>>2945818

Rolled 2, 4, 4, 3, 2, 5, 6, 1 = 27 (8d6)

>>2945818

Rolled 4, 5, 3, 6, 1, 4, 2, 5 = 30 (8d6)

>>2945818

Well that went off without a hitch. Alright lots of text incoming

"I think not Ser Rossmund. I believe we're quite content where we are."

"All the same to me, to tell you the truth we was going to kill you anyways. How's that knight o' yours holdin' up?"

The sick easiness of his smile was enough to make you grit your teeth. You waited until he turned around and walked away before you dared turning your back on the man.

You get your men prepared, shield up to the windows and spears ready to be thrust out of them. You would hold this building just as another garrison would defend a castle. This was your keep. You soon heard a low horn echo through the trees, and the whoops and taunts came again as a large force of bandits charged.

~ Warfare Check for Defend Order ~
~ Rolled 9 Vs DC:5
~ Result: Warfare Check Passed, Defend Order Given

~ Agility Test for the Stalwart Grey Guard ~
~ Rolled: 10
~ Result: Grey Guard Defence = 10

They came upon you as a storm, but your men were a rock that the waves crashed against and the wind whipped around. You heard death cries, curses and screams of pain, and yet you did not falter in your will.

Round 1, Battle of the Inn

~ Trained Raiders ~
~ Charge Order
~ Order Passed by 4
~ Trained Raiders Rolled: 9
~ Result: 9 - 10 = no damage

~ Grey Guard ~
~ Attack order
~ Order passed by 2
~ Rolled 12 vs 7 = 5 +2 (AR) = 5 damage
~ 6 - 1 + 1 Health
~ Result : Trained Raiders Disorganized

>>2945876
Sorry, they are not disorganized. Both parties are still in the fight.

Can I get another 3D6 for fighting please?

Rolled 2, 3, 2 = 7 (3d6)

>>2945879

Rolled 2, 4, 3 = 9 (3d6)

>>2945879

Rolled 6, 3, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>2945879

Round 2, Battle of the Inn

~ Trained Raiders ~
~ Attack Order
~ Order Passed by 3
~ Trained Raiders Rolled: 13
~ 13 - 10 = 3 - 3(AR) = no damage

~ Grey Guard ~
~ Attack Order
~ Order Passed by 3
~ Rolled 10 vs 7 = 3 - 2 (AR) =1 damage
~ 1 - 1 = 0 health
~ Result: Trained Raiders Disorganized
(For real this time)

The push and shove of battle looks like a wave, flowing back and forth. Your men stood valiantly, encouraging each other and you yourself pick up a spear and join the line at a window. Eventually, the bandits morale begins to waiver and they flee before your viscous defense. A cheer goes up, and leering shouts follow them as they flee back into the forest. However, Ser Rossmund swings his mace at a fleeing mans head and splatters his brains against the three men behind him. He goes up to the bonfire you'd lit earlier, picks up a branch and heads menacingly towards the inn. He tosses the branch on the thatch roof of the inn, and fire begins to take hold. He shouts an order, and his men begin to come back to his side, forming up into loose ranks...

I hope you guys don't mind me rolling for the orders test behind the scenes, just trying to streamline things a bit, and I hope that this isn't too much rolling or crunch. Any feedback is appreciated.

Anywhores, I'll need 2d6 for the charge thats about to happen, and we need to decide if Manfryd is going to try and take out Ser Rossmund and cut the head off of the snake?


> Duel Ser Rossmund
> Do not, fight a trained bandit instead

> 5D6 please.

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

>>2945967
> Duel Ser Rossmund

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

>>2945967
>Duel Ser Rossmund

Rolled 1, 6, 4, 4, 1 = 16 (5d6)

>>2945967
>> Duel Ser Rossmund

>>2945967
> Duel Ser Rossmund

Rolled 6, 6, 3, 4, 6 = 25 (5d6)

>>2945967
> Duel Ser Rossmund

The sound of the melee falls away as your men begin to open up a circle around their two commanders. They themselves had fought to a stand still, with casualties on both sides.

You swing your sword with all your might at the man, and although he brought his grey and green shield up in time, you could feel his shoulder give and the cry of pain he uttered was an indicator that your blow had indeed hurt him. He in turn slips inside your guard however, and deals a horrific blow to your ribs. You could feel the some of the chain mail links break under the force, and possibly even one of your ribs.

~ Duel Round 1 ~

~ Manfryd: Rolled 11
~ 8 damage x 1 degree of success = 8 damage
~ 8 - 6 armor = 2 damage
~ 9 - 2 = 7 Health

~ Ser Rossmund ~
~ Ser Rossmund Rolled: 17
~ 4 damage x 3 degrees of success = 12 damage
~12 - 5 Armor = 7 Damage
~ Injury Taken = 4 Damage
~ Beserker Activated
~ 9 - 4 = 5 Health

Summary:
Manfryd Storm: 5/9 Health
1 Injury

Ser Rossmund of the Slayne: 7/9 Health

9D6 please ( first three for berserker, than for next rounds attack, than next rounds beserker)

Rolled 3, 3, 1, 4, 6, 3, 5, 4, 3 = 32 (9d6)

>>2946023

Rolled 2, 2, 5, 2, 2, 3, 6, 4, 4 = 30 (9d6)

>>2946023

Rolled 4, 6, 1, 1, 1, 6, 3, 3, 6 = 31 (9d6)

>>2946023

Rolled 1, 5, 6, 6, 1, 5, 6, 2, 2 = 34 (9d6)

>>2946023

>>2946036
>>2946040
>>2946047
11, 13, 14

>>2946051
-1 due to injury but otherwise correct

~ Beserker Roll Round 1 ~

~ Manfryd: Rolled 10
~ 8 damage x 1 degree of success = 8 damage
~ 8 - 6 = 2 damage
~ 7 - 2 = 5 health

If the rib wasn't broken, it would be a particularly nasty bruise. You roar back in response, battering his now weakened shoulder. The blade bounces off of his shield and heads directly into the bulk of his arm. As your sword comes away, you can see the scales where your sword hit are dented from the force of the blow. Ser Rossmund cries out in shock, and you can see a small trickle of blood run down out of his sleeve.

~ Duel Round 2 ~

~ Manfryd: Rolled 12
~ 8 damage x 1 degree of success = 8 damage
~ 8 - 6 armor = 2 damage
~ 5 - 2 = 3 Health

~ Ser Rossmund Rolled: 16
~ 4 damage x 2 degrees of success = 8 damage
~ 8 damage - 4 armor(due to bludgeon fighter 1) = 4 damage
~ Injury taken
~ Result: 1 damage
~5 - 1 = 4 health

~ Beserker Roll Round 2 ~

~ Manfryd: Rolled 12
~ 8 damage x 1 degree of success = 8 damage
~ 8 - 6 = 2 damage
~ 3 - 2 = 1 health

You keep up the pressure, and swing to his opposite leg and manage another glancing blow against his armor but the efforts are beginning to take their toll on you. As you try to catch a breath he swings at you, catching you in the helm and you can feel the metal dent into your skull. You rip the helm off with a snarl and tear into him. The red has edged into much more than just the edge of your vision. Perhaps it was just the fire, but the world seemed tinged in carmine tones. You lash out with another backhanded cut and catch the man under his shield into his midriff, which causes him to wheeze as his breath leaves his body.

6D6 for fighting ( hopefully the last one)

Rolled 3, 1, 1, 4, 6, 1 = 16 (6d6)

>>2946082

Rolled 6, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5 = 25 (6d6)

>>2946082

Rolled 3, 1, 3, 2, 4, 4 = 17 (6d6)

>>2946082

File: 20181005_202435.jpg (3.98 MB, 4032x3024)

3.98 MB JPG

~ Manfryd: Rolled 10
~ 8 damage x 1 degree of success = 8 damage
~ 8 - 6 = 2 damage
~ 1 - 2 = -1 health
~ Ser Rossmund Defeated

As he spins out of the the blow, he tries to swing for your unprotected head. However, being unable to catch his breath made him slow and you capitalized on it. You stabbed with your sword in between the scales of his chest, and it bursts through his back in a shower of red. His corpse falls to the ground and you chase after the nearest bandit, spit flying from your mouth as you curse everything about their existence. The remaining bandits, few as they are, flee like cowards into the trees, and your men, too tired to give chase, cheer weakly as they flee. but as they turn to face the inn, they see it has all but burnt down to the ground. The earliest signs of morning are coming through the sky. You breathe deep. You had survived.

Battle of the Lumber Town: Victory
Casualties: Grey Guard 48/80 Survivors
Manfryd Storm : +10 Exp

I think I'm going to call it for tonight, but I'll pick up where we left off at about 11am MST tomorrow, or in about 12 hours. As always, I'll be around to answer any questions and the like for a while.

I will say that was my first time actually trying to QM a battle, even one as small as a skirmish, and I definitely mucked up more than a few things, but it's a learning curve right? Also as an aside, I'm giving out 5 EXP per thread so
Manfryd is looking pretty at 23. But in the mean time hope you guys enjoyed and thanks for playing.

Also, because I nearly forgot, Ser Greyson Survived. Pic related was the last roll for the nightshade, so you guys passed that with flying colours. And in case anybody was wondering, Bolun, his daughters and Ser Greyson all got out of the fire. Though Bolun might wish he hadn't if Markus gets a hold of him...

>>2946152
Well ya could do like wardad did and preroll all combat beforehand to ease the rolls during runs ya know?

>>2946162
Yeah I might try and do that next time. I didn't let Ser Rossmund take injuries or wounds to try and streamline things, but that will probably irk me for a while. Lay some more groundwork for important fights next time.

>>2946152
Could be a bit more streamlined but I liked it enough.

>>2946197
Fair enough. I might diddle around with it and run some random combat sequences to figure out a better flow. Glad you enjoyed though.


So I think tomorrow will be a trip back to Oakmoss to report on what happened and see some justice dealt with, and then we'll see about getting our maple syrup on with the population of our hamlet, and see if they'll move now. Try to keep it light in case it's slow tomorrow so I don't need a ton of input to move the story along.

>>2946244
Just a nitpick but shouldn't we be listed as Manfryd Larkyn since we are now legitimized as our father's heir?

Goddamn. I wish i could had been here. But i needed that thing called sleep.

>>2946499
Not quite. Markus called Manfryd home, and in his eyes we are his heir, but only a king can legitimize a bastard, so we're eventually going to meet the king at Harrenhal in about a year. However, seeing as Aerys is batshit, that could go all kinds of ways.

I'm just gunna go run a few errands than I'll be back to try and lure in some players for a mid-day run.

>>2946840
>I imagine Robert will agree to his loyal retainer’s request though.

>>2946938
Just have to wait it out!

File: Forest Journey.jpg (60 KB, 625x416)

60 KB JPG

The dawn brings light onto what transpired through the night. The inn is nearly burned to the ground, and as the rain begins to fall wisps of smoke can be seen as raindrops hit smoldering cinders. Bodies lay everywhere in the wet mud as your surviving men go on about digging a mass grave for the bandits, and more personal ones for the garrison.

You were happy to see that the men inside the inn guarding Bolun and Ser Greyson had the wits to bring out their respective charges. Ser Greyson had survived his poisoning but was still recovering in a house down the road. An old woman and her grand daughter were tending to him dutifully. Meanwhile, Bolun was tended to in a small hut by his daughters. His whimpering was pitiful, his knee shattered in your rage. You would need to bring him to Oakmoss, to face your fathers judgement. You had a few men throw him on the back of a horse, bound by both hand and foot. You mounted your horse and left one of the sergeants, the sober one who you later found out was named Torben, in charge of cleaning up the town.

You rode away slowly, escorted by as many men as you could spare. The possibility of more bandits on the road were too real for you to go it in a small party. Fatigue was setting in as you rode. You hadn't slept in a day, and the rigors of battle had taken their toll on you. The right side of your ribs were black with a massive bruise, and a goose egg swelled on the side of your head where Ser Rossmund's mace had struck you. Inspecting your chainmail as you rode found that a mass of links in the chest had buckled and bent, whilst the helmet was so dented it was near to be useless. But you'd been victorious, and you were blooded now. You'd looked death in the eye and screamed back in it's face.

As you round a bend, you spy a large party of men armed with bows, armored in brown leather and green cloth, picking through a number of dead bodies and cheerfully whistling as they did. Your men immediately raise their shield and lower their spears, forming a wall in front of you. But when their leader comes forth and talks it's with a familiar sing song voice.

"G'mornin' Manfryd." Owljack says cheerfully. "Just finishin' cleanin' up this lot, dunno why they was sittin' 'ere like a duck in a pond, but now I'm guessin they was waitin' for you" as he looks your battered self and men up and down.

"Yes. Bandits attacked the Lumber Town last night. They poisoned Ser Greyson, and offered to let us walk free. We didn't, and I slew their leader, a knight by the name of Ser Rossmund of the Slayne. Now were bringing back this traitor back to Oakmoss" as you gesture towards the incapacitated Bolun.

"Aye, I reckon m'lord'll like that. Been a while since that ol' sword o' his got used"

He stares at Bolun with a dark smile and a grin.

"Well continue on then young sir, the lads 'n' I'll keep cleanin' up this lot. and we'll head Lumberton way when we're done. Give the other boy's a hand gettin' some order to the town."

The plain looking man than turned and walked away, whistling a tune. His footsteps made no sound, and his casual nature towards violence seemed to be common to men in this part of the Stormlands.

You continue on your journey and it isn't long before you see Oakmoss in her cold and forbidding glory crown through the trees. Bolun begins to beg, at first to be set free, but soon that he just be killed now. That only earns him and thwack from the butt of a spear of one of the soldiers which shuts him up.

You enter through the castle gates, which open for you once you identify yourself. you inform one of the guards to tell your father of your arrival, and you had important tidings from the hamlet. He runs off, and you dismiss the men who accompanied you off to the barracks, for a well earned meal and sleep, but you would have to put off sleep for a while longer.

Some of the infantry take Bolun up the stairs to the castle proper, and you slowly shamble after them. A servant brings you a plate of food, which you graciously thank her for, and devour the bread and chicken she brought. Plain honest food, just like home you thought.

It isn't long before you are summoned in, and you walk the long hall under the hard gaze of the Lord of Oakmoss. When you had first arrived here, the hall had been a cool welcome, and yet now it appeared word had spread and the atmosphere was downright ominous. You spy Bolun lying prone near the foot of the dais, unable to kneel on his shattered knee.

You kneel before your father and he utters only three words.

"Tell. Me. All."

You go into detail over what had happened, and the mask of fury that Markus wears is a horrific one. Deep crevices line his furrowed brow, and his mouth is a thin hard line. He periodically turns his one eyed stare at Bolun as you recount your tale, and when you are finally done, a quiet baleful silence fills the void.

He stands, slowly, before ordering his men to take Bolun to the godswood.

Bolun struggles and begs, but his cries fall on deaf ears. Your father walks towards his tower to retrieve his sword.

"Manfryd. Attend me." he says as a curt order.

You follow him and the two of you walk in silence. It isn't until you are alone with him in his tower before he turns his attention on you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I've a terrible bruise and a splitting headache, but otherwise I'm fine."

He manages a grim smile before nodding his head.

"I knew you were a Larkyn, despite your name. Blood and battle come naturally to us. Are there more of these traitors, or any survivors from the bandits?"

"A few bandits survived, and their under guard at the hamlet."

He informs you that tomorrow you would go back to the town, after a day of rest, and see justice was done. You would be attended by Vance Halsing and his infantry, to ensure that any loose stragglers didn't suddenly regain their courage. He takes down the sword from it's rack and the two of you head to the godswood.

>>2947173
Oh man I wasn't here for house creation our we descended from first men, our does dad just like to get dirty?

A slight drizzle of rain is falling, and you see a block has been brought before the wrathful wierdwood tree that stands in the centre of the wood. All the important people of the castle surround it on the circular path that encircles the ancient tree. Lady Helena and Ser Gregory. Harold Whitehead, and numerous servants, high and low. Bolun is screaming as he's forced to kneel and his head is forced towards the block. Your father walks with purpose and a soldier grips the scabbard as Markus pulls Scourge free. The blade is 5 feet of black and grey steel, it's edge gleams with an sharpness that would never be dulled. It's batwing cross guard glistens as the rain drops drip off it's wing tips and the ruby in the bats head pommel seems to pulse with anticipation.

There is no grand speech, no proclamation. Your father simply brings the sword down in an overhanded swing and scarlet blood spurts forward on the ash white body of the tree. It is a terrible sight, seeing the angry white face covered with spots and ropes of red. Your father cleans the blade with a cloth and the crowd begins to disperse.

Who do you want to talk to...

>Your Father, regarding the battle and your duty
>Ser Vance Halsing, regarding tomorrow
>Harold Whitehead, regarding your findings in the rainwood
>Ser Gregory, regarding Ser Greyson

Please vote for 2 choices.

>>2947204
>Your Father, regarding the battle and your duty
>Harold Whitehead, regarding your findings in the rainwood

>>2947204
>Your Father, regarding the battle and your duty
>Harold Whitehead, regarding your findings in the rainwood

>>2947204
>Your Father, regarding the battle and your duty
>Harold Whitehead, regarding your findings in the rainwood

>>2947198
I pre-genned the house, so you never actually missed it. The House History is linked in the first post, but in short, the house is originally valyrian, but over the past 300 years have been intermingling with andal house and other stormlanders, so no first men, but your father was fostered by the Blackwoods as a boy, and he gained an appreciation for the old gods there. He is also a very martial man, who is more than a little bloodthirsty.

You decide to follow the steward, Harold Whitehead off as he takes a side path back to his own chambers.

"Hello young sir, I hope your injuries arn't to severe, and that the lives that were lost wern't lost in vain."

He looks saddened by the loss of life. He was no warrior, nor was he numbed to death, despite living in such a castle with a martial lord.

"The expedition went well if that's what you mean. There is a significant number of soft woods that would make for excellent boat building, along with some hardwoods that lend themselves to spear shafts, shields, furniture and the like. Lastly, there's a large grove of maple trees near the coast that I plan to try and get syrup out of. The blacksmith was working on the necessary tools before the attack..."

You hoped the man was still alive, he'd been a helpful man, if not a bit slow on the uptake.

"Syrup hmm? Yes, I think that would do much to help fill the coffers of the house. Such luxury goods command high prices across the seven kingdoms. And as for the wood, hopefully you can convince your father to build that port. Perhaps one day House Larkyn could be a power at sea. How did the townspeople take the idea of moving by the way?"

"The overseer of the mill seemed open to it, and seeing as he is the only leader in the town now I think they can be brought around. It was only the inn keep who resisted the idea, and those close to him, but after his showing of loyalty, I think any similar ideas will be put to rest"

You continue the talk of trade and numbers once you get to his chambers, and discuss future trade partners at length before you excuse yourself. You still had to talk to your father. The talk of justice weighed heavy on your mind.

>Any parting questions for Harold? Write in
>Go see your father

Should we take his daughters to our bed as tax? They're homeless and fatherless now. Can't imagine they would refuse.

>>2947262
Not really sure what else to talk about so.
>Go see your father

>>2947267
We would be well within our right

>>2947267
Dude no.

>>2947219
>Go see your father

>>2947262
>Go see your father
>>2947267
Not a bad idea

You head for your fathers tower, only getting lost once in this labyrinth of a castle, before finding the correct tower and ascending up the stairs to his solar.

You find your father polishing Scourge with a fine cloth, before running his thumb along the edge which causes a cut so fine that only a single drop of blood wells from the cut. He licks the cut clean before motioning for you to sit across the table from him.

"I'm proud of you Manfryd. You took your first life last night yes?"

You answer that it was, and he responds in kind, regaling you with the story of his first before turning the conversation to the matters at hand.

"You saw how I dealt with that traitor today? There was no need to hear his last words, nor any pleas for mercy. He was guilty, and deserved a far worse death than what I gave him. Fear is a useful tool, and news of this will spread across my lands. Order will spread as a result. You shall take my justice to the rest of those bandits you took prisoner. The Blackspears shall remain there until the Garrison is at full strength again. I'll leave that up to you and Ser Greyson. I hope that boy recovers, he has the makings of a good soldier.

The two of you discuss the battle and your injuries, before your father notices the mess that is your suit of mail.

"You'll need some new armor while that gets repaired, and besides, my heir should be protected by more than just a coat of mail. Have you any ideas of what kind of armor you'd like to wear?

> Brigadine, like your father.
> Half plate, like Ser Greyson
> Full plate

Personally, I'd recommend brigadine myself. I find that plate and half plate reduce your combat defense too much when wielding a greatsword, but I'll let you guys talk amongst yourselves

>>2947311

> Brigadine, like your father.

>>2947311
>> Brigadine, like your father.

>>2947311
>Brigadine, like your father.

>>2947311
> Brigadine, like your father.

You'd looked to your fathers armor rack and saw his suit of brigadine. It was beautiful armor, black leather over black mail, with dark blue plates over top of the leather, and small silver studs made it look as if the nights sky was made into armor. His helm was a closed helm, and when the visor was down, it had the visage of a leering white skull on midnight black.

You'd found that wearing mail was hard enough to become accustomed too, and the thought of having to wear a full set of plate seemed daunting.

"Perhaps something similar to your own Father. I don't feel like I'd be mobile enough being weighed down by a suit of plate"

Your father laughs and agrees, commenting on the merits of lighter armors and mobility, particularly when you weren't using a shield.

You spend the night conversing about battle, war and combat. Your father tells you of how he earned his knighthood, gesturing to a pair of massive ivory tusks sitting upon the mantelpiece. He'd single handily slain a war elephant of the golden company during the last blackfyre rebellion.

Your father was a hard, merciless man you gathered, but when out of the public eye, you found that there was kindness and joy in him. He was thrilled to know that his son had the potential to be a warrior, that his supposed heir would continue the legacy of warriors. Even talk of marriage breaks into the conversation, although that brings more scowls from him as apparently both letters he'd sent about marriage offers we're met with flat refusals.

Talk winds down and you eventually leave the tower to sleep. You still had a mind to move your quarters to the top floor of the library tower, but that was an issue for the next meeting with your father. You soon fall to sleep, although your dreams are haunted by roaring flames and raining blood.

~ The Next Evening ~

You arrive in the Lumber Town at the head of the Blackspears, with Ser Vance at your side. His blood red shield emblazoned with a black wolf leered at any who dared to look it in the eye. A terrifying sigil for such a pleasant man. You gathered from talking to him that he was related to you, your fathers cousin he believed. You yourself had your sword strapped to your back, over a new plain set of brigadine armor, grey and brown, along with a new half helm with a nose guard.

The Blackspears moved quickly and expertly to their posts, not needing to be ordered to form a perimeter and set a watch. As you ride, you see "Earnest" Ern living up to his name, as he flags you down, offering to put you up in his room in the mill. You gladly accept, but need to check on the prisoners and Ser Greyson before you can retire for the evening.

You find the prisoners chained inside a cellar of one of the militias homes. Devoid of tunnels you note and the man grins.

"None of these thievin' bastards are getting anywhere. Only place their going is the noose."

You nod ad leave the foul place, as it smells of gangrene, shit and blood. You find Ser Greyson looking heartier, but still bed ridden. He thanks you for saving his life, before the old woman looking after him sends you away, saying he needs rest.

"Mother hens" you chortle laughing. As you walk back to the inn, you see Bolun's oldest daughter bouncing on the knee of one of your soldiers. When she sees you there is a glimmer of fear before she averts her eyes. The girls likely faced hard times ahead, the oldest being no more than 16 while the youngest had to be at least 8. 4 hungry mouths to feed, and no real means to do it with.

When you finally get to the inn, Ern takes you to his room, along with a loaf of bread and butter, and you begin to eat together. You can tell something is on the mans mind however, and he soon begins to speak.

"M'lord. I've a favor to ask. A big one...My boy is one 'o' them you got tied up. T'other one your boys killed in the battle. I don'ts begrudge nobody dat, they made their choice. But e's all I got left. If you could find it in ya to let 'im go, you'd find no more loyal a man than me sir...

And now we come to a difficult cross roads. Ser Vance is going to report on how you deal with the bandits come the morrow, and your father has clearly stated what his expectations of justice are. However, if you let Ern's son live, it will make moving the hamlet to the coast to allow the building of a port much much easier. Plus you'll have a good connections inside the town, and the towns population will see you in a much more positive light. Sooooooo thoughts?

>>2947432
Hang him. Justice is blind.
And take one of the daughters for yourself.

>>2947432
Hang him. Claim his daughters

>>2947432
Hang them all. Take the girls.

>>2947432
Cut off his head and mount it on a spike. Then take his daughters for our own for this campaigns duration and dump them afterward

Ya know what have fun being a fucking yet another character led around by their dick. I’m done.

>>2947432
Let the boy live but take one of his hands, don't bother with the peasant girls.

So Ern doesn't actually have any daughters. He had two sons, one of which died in the battle and the other is currently tied up. The daughters are were Bolun's, and the only one of bedding age isn't really looking to fuck the man she just saw knee cap her father in a blind rage. If you guys want, we can try and charm her, but rape isn't Manfryds style.

But, I'ts vote time i guess.

Regarding the village elders (Ern) son.

> Hang him with the rest ( + Dad, - Ern)
> Allow him to take the black ( Neutral on all sides)
>Allow him to go free(- Dad, + Ern)

>>2947527
> Hang him with the rest ( + Dad, - Ern)

>>2947527
> Allow him to take the black ( Neutral on all sides)

>>2947527
>Hang him with the rest
No 14-15 year old daughter? Rape is too easy anyways, how hard is it to get a desperate peasant girl to open her legs.

>>2947527
>> Hang him with the rest ( + Dad, - Ern)

Looks like the law is black and white. Alright I'm gunna have a quick dart and than start writing

>>2947559
Justice is justice!

>>2947559
Having both of your children fighting with bandit scum should be disqualifying in itself.

>>2947527
>> Allow him to take the black ( Neutral on all sides)

You stare into the mans hurting brown eyes, knowing that you can't give him what he asks for.

"I-I can't allow a single man out of them to walk free Ern. He...he has to face his punishment like the rest of them."

Ern hangs his head and lets out a long breath. He looks up at you and you can see a single tear slowly fall down his cheek.

"They weren't bad boys you know" he starts with a crack in his voice. "They were just bored. Bored of working the same mill that their father worked, and their grandfather before me, and some robber knight led 'em awry with tales of bravery, and stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Loada shit I told 'em, ain't no smallfolk seein' a copper o' that loot but they didn't listen...and now they's both dead. C-can I at least spend the night with my boy?"

He asks with such sadness in his voice that you feel compelled. Ser Vance and his report be damned. You have the boy summoned, and you leave father and son alone to seek solace in each others company. With thoughts of the young man still fresh on your mind, you would find another place to sleep tonight. As you walked out of the mill, you saw in the inky twilight the gallows that had been built together of lumber produced of the mill. That was cruel irony you thought. Ern's son would hang from a beam made from lumber processed in his own mill.

You find lodging with a peasant family who live in a small house on the edge of town, and they seem happy enough to have their savior staying beneath their roof. Sleep does not come easy to you, as a storm rolls in over head and thunderclaps shake the walls and lightning flashes across the sky, all the while the weight of mens lives weighed heavy on your mind.

An especially loud thunderclap wakes you in the morning. You stir and dress in your armor again, though you left your helmet with your men. Your sword sat strapped upon your back.. Ser Vances men were marching the prisoners to the gallows, and most of the village was stirring to watch the execution. All told there are 9 men. 9 lives that lived and died at you command. You walk up the stairs to the gallows and turned to face the crowd. You looked at them, and they stared back at you in turn. You made eye contact with Ern for a moment longer than you liked, before you awkwardly looked away...It was too far to go back now.

> Any words for the crowd (write in)
> Silence, take your fathers words to heart

>>2947658
>> Any words for the crowd (write in)
I'm no good with speeches but the basic gist of it is that we do this with great regret but justice must be done. These young men have been fooled by a bandit knight, you hope that people will learn the lesson and obey the laws of the Lord.

>>2947658
>Silence, take your fathers words to heart

>>2947689
That just comes off as weak. Be silent.

Will change to silence

>>2947658
> Silence, take your fathers words to heart

File: Rainwood2.0.jpg (290 KB, 804x603)

290 KB JPG

You think back on your fathers actions. Dead silence. No last words. And while you still felt the pangs of remorse at the loss of life, you knew what had to be done. You raise your hand and lower it quickly in a chopping motion. You don't look back as you can hear the men fall and the ropes snap taut. You stare ahead at the crowd, although you look at nobody in particular, trying to give the impression of indifference. You see Ern walk away to his mill, and some of the other villagers begin to throw vegetables and eggs at the dying men. To them, these men were no more than petty criminals. It would be harder to convince
Ern to move his mill down the stream to the coast now, but not impossible. You'd have to find a way to bring the subject up in the coming days.

As the last man stops kicking, you finally turn around and gaze at the men. Common faces all. Ser Vance asks what you want done with the bodies, to which you shrug. All of a sudden you hear a small musical voice behind you.

"I've a few ideas M'lord"

Owljack had appeared out of nowhere. You'd known he was around the town but hadn't seen him approach.

""The lads 'n' I'll go hang em up in the woods. If they gots any friends still creepin' about seein' their friends hangin' from the trees outta scare 'em off a breakin' the law."

You agree to let their bodies serve as a warning to any survivors, but you stop them before they take down Ern's son.

"Not that one. He was a villager, and his father will want to see him buried properly."

Owljack just shrugs his shoulders and goes about his work, and soon him and his men are off into the woods again, carrying the 8 bodies on their shoulders.

You carry the body of Ern's son to the mill yourself. You go around the back to find a shovel and start digging a grave, and upon hearing the noise, Ern soon joins you. You work together in silence, and when the job is done, you leave the man to his grief.

You did not sit idle however, for there was work to be done and life stopped for nobody. You headed down to the smith and gathered up some of the smarter lads around the village, along with your tapping equipment, and went down to the maple grove to show them how to tap a tree properly. If things worked out, you would have a liter or so by the time you'd need to return to Oakmoss in 2 weeks for the next council meeting.

~ The Next Week~

You approached the mill, and heard Ern shouting orders and berating his men as they worked. He saw you coming and walked to meet you half way.

"I know why yer 'ere Manfryd. You wanana talk about moving the town. Well why should I try and help tell people to do that now? Both 'uh' me sons are dead, and when I'm gone this mill'll just go the way of who knows what? Why should I damn well give a rats fuck?"

3D6 Persuasion please

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

>>2947858

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

>>2947858

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

>>2947858
Because the people here believe in you and you know that this is a better move for this town. Your sons made their choice and they had to deal with the consequences. You may be old but you are hardly dead, you still have time to find a new wife and start a new life. You said your boys left because they were sick of working the same mill their father worked and their grandfather before them. Well I am giving you a chance to change not just your own life but the life of every family in this village. The chance to actually earn some choice and not be shackled to spend the rest of your life in this one place."

An honest to god critical fail. Well, they don't pop up very often so I'm gunna roll with it. Only because the odds of getting all ones three in a row is damn near impossible. Needless to say Ern isn't happy.

A damn shame too because talking to him about his sons getting bored with the same mill would have convinced him otherwise. Oh well, writing...

Committing seppuku right now.

>>2947875
>>2947883
REEEEEEEE
I rolled good and had good points

You can't even meet his eyes as he talks to you.

"Thats what I thought. Bastard. Now get the fuck outta me mill. I got work to do"

He turns his back on you and gets back to work, and you walk out of the mill to the stares of the mill workers.

He would be no help to you in moving the rest of the town now. But there was always another way to skin a cat...

Any ideas to get the village to start moving before the council meeting next week?

>>2947903
Not only did you nail the difficulty on the head, even if you hadn't I would have given it to you for saying almost exactly what Ern needed to hear. Shitty luck about the crit fail though

>>2947925
Well that makes this all the more trouble for like no reason, I dislike critfails overriding on best ofs since they happen so often.

We have to talk to some other pillars of the community, people with any influence beyond Ern and try to convince them to move. The village probably depends upon hunting alot so we can promise to allow them to take several more deer a year then they have allotted at the moment along with lowering taxes for a year or two. We should focus on men that fought with us against the bandits giving them first choice on plots of land along with the other things.

>>2947925
Could we seize the mill if we're to Ern disappear or have an accident in the coming weeks.

>>2947977
We aren't that sorta character

Talking to the men who fought with us is a good idea. Ern is the only real pillar of the community currently, but if we can get some people moving with the promise of power that'll work? Sound good?

>>2947979
Not yet. We'll soon learn that being ned stark in Westeros is a quick way to die.

>>2948004
Sounds good to me
>>2948006
There is difference between Ned Stark and murdering everyone who causes you a slight inconvenience

I hope that a few of the themes I'm trying to put out there are coming across for you guys. The biggest one right now is the difference in responsibility of being a nobleman versus a tradesman in a feudal society. People may hate you for what you do, but without you, the world comes crashing down. And Manfryd is going to struggle with this as he's seen both sides of the coin.

You had to bring some men around. And the best people to start with were the men who'd fought alongside you. You sought out the lumberjacks who'd fought and anyone else who could potentially have minor political clout.

You gathered in one of the crew bosses homes, along with the crew boss, and a few of his underlings. Men with ambition, who managed their own cutting gangs out in the forest. You addressed the man with the largest crew, and in turn the most influence, a large brute of a man named Alek. It was primarily him you addressed, with talk of building a new town, and a port. Where there was room for advancement and power. Where they could earn enough wealth for their families that their sons wouldn't have to. Their interest was piqued.

You were hashing out the details when the subject of Ern came up. They expressed worry about the mill, but you explained that without raw lumber, a mill was useless. And so if you cut south of the mill, Ern would be hard pressed to stay there, and would have to move in order to survive.They were hesitant but you didn't stop to give their doubt time to fester. You talked at length about your plan for a syrup farm, easier work than felling trees. And being in the grip of winter, mild as it was in the stormlands, crops still struggled to grow. The talk of allowing them to hunt additional deer during the year was the final straw.

They would start constructing new homes within the week, and would move their families when the homes were built. Simple log homes to start. You told them about the cove that you intended to turn into a port and that was where they should try to build their homes around.

It had been a trying week but you finally had a grasp on what you wanted to accomplish. Your father may not approve of your promise to the lumberjacks of allowing them extra deer, nor would he approve of your handling of the talks with Ern, but all in all you had achieved your goals in time as you rode back to Oakmoss. You had survived the battlefield and the forest, but it was time to brave the other sort of battlefield. The politics of Oakmoss' high council.


So I'm going to call it here for the day. My brain is drained and I'm going to go get drunk. I really do appreciate you guys playing, and I;m having a lot of fun running this.

I'll try to run tomorrow before thanksgiving dinner, and I'll try to finish up our time in at the council meeting on monday.

>>2948073
>OM is a filthy Canadian
Quest dropped!

See ya tomorrow.

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>>2948216
The Canadian is immunized against all dangers: one may call him a scoundrel, parasite, swindler, profiteer, it all runs off him like water off a raincoat. But call him a Canadian and you will be astonished at how he recoils, how injured he is, how he suddenly shrinks back: “I’ve been found out.”

And I way over slept, and don't really have time to get into it right now, so I'll write some stuff up tonight and get around to running on monday. Apologies

>>2950011
Enjoy your turkey, you filthy Canuck!

Taking the critfail and fucking the players instead of having Ern just work against us while at the port.

>>2950257
Nah, its nice to have a qst with some actual challenge to it. Its already easy enough with Bo3 rolls and enemies not taking injuries or wounds.

Where is thread one i want to read

You found yourself sitting at your fathers right hand at the ebony table as the monthly council meeting commenced. Owljack was absent from the meeting, as well as the ever empty chair that was once occupied by the maester of Oakmoss, a position that had been empty for over three years.

As per his modus operandi, your father began the meeting with customary silence, waiting to see who would be the first to speak. Today it was Ser Gregory, and his concern was understandably for his son.

He questioned you regarding Ser Greyson's health, and how his recovery was progressing. Upon informing him of his survival and spirit, Ser Gregory thanks you gratefully before addressing you father, stating that upon Owljack's return, that the rainwood should be scoured to ensure that no bandits still lurk in the forest, and that their base of operations be found and destroyed.

Your father regards him thoughtfully, before stating that Jack would have a report by the end of the week.

"It may be sooner than that" you pipe up.

Your father cocks an eyebrow and gestures for you to continue.

"There was a tunnel underneath the inn. I told Owljack about it, and he seemed to think that it might lead to their hideout, or at least give some clues as to where it might be.

"Well done Manfryd" Ser Gregory exclaims. "Hopefully young Owljack roots out those rapscallions and hangs them from a short rope."

Lady Helena speaks up next, regarding the invitation to the upcoming tournament in Crows Nest. When she scowls as you look at her, you can see the lines that mar her face prematurely. Shame had aged her, and your arrival had only compounded that shame.

"Tell me husband. When we attend the tourney, will your...son...be joining us so the entire realm can see?" she asks with a chilled voice.

"You know he shall. He is my heir, and the vultures that wait for my death should see my line isn't dead."

She looks a you with her hazel eyes, and you find nothing but scorn in them.

"Than I shall ask to be allowed to visit my fathers hall instead. He is to old for tourneys, and has already informed me he will not be attending."

You father takes a long slow inhale and pinches the bridge of his nose, before granting her permission to attend her father.

As if to break the tension in the air, Harold coughs politely, and asks you if you had a report of your progress with the village and
the lumber industry. You decide to start with the negative.

"As you all know, the village was attacked by bandits not two weeks ago, and due to come complications about that situation...there is some resistance from the overseer of the mill to move his operation to the coast..."

Lady Helena stirs quickly at that, commenting on how you didn't know what you were doing, about your incompetence and foolishness.

"He was raised amongst the smallfolk, and yet he cannot even convince them of something so simple? How can he be expected to lead, or rule if he asks peasants instead of ordering them?"

You ignore her and continue on, not acknowledging her attempts to bait you and press on with news that you were sure would be taken well.

"However..."

You stand and go towards the door, where you grab a small keh and bring it forth to the table, before opening the top and placing it before your father.

"This will be the key to not only building our wealth, besides the reworking of trade agreements and the building of a port I'll remind you all, but also convincing the rest of the village to move. I've already talked to some of the logging crews, and their foremen. They've agreed to move on the promise or positions of power when the town and port come to fruition, and an additional 3 deer per year per man. I would also put some of them in charge of the syrup farm. I suspect the mill overseer Ern will resist moving for as long as he can, but if the rest of the village moves, he will be forced to as well."

Your father dips the tip of a finger into the syrup before tasting it, and nodding his head approvingly.

"While I do not approve of your haggling with peasants, nor the giving up the rights to my deer in order to feed them, and my wife is right when she says that you will need to learn to command and not ask when it comes to the smallfolk, I applaud your drive Manfryd. Harold, is their value in this?

The steward nods his head, going on about potential trade partners and the worth of luxury goods such as a maple syrup.

Your father than looks at you with his good eye and inquires about the time it would take to get such an operation going, and the cost of doing so.

You reply earnestly, telling him the farm could be operational in under 3 months, and that it would cost about 1000 gold dragons (5 wealth) to make it happen.

Your father regards the steward and tells him to see that it is done.

Do you...

> Take the small victory?
or
> Try to convince him to build a small port instead?

Also, I'll ask if you guys want to do the house fortunes roll, or just let me do that behind the scenes. If you guys want to influence to what resources we boost or decrease it'll take a persuasion test of varying difficulty to convince your father.

> let /qst/ roll
or
>just take care of it

>>2952334
> Try to convince him to build a small port instead?
>just take care of it

>>2952334
> Try to convince him to build a small port instead?
>just take care of it

>>2952344
>>2952350
support.

Here are the two homebrews for the Maple Grove and the Docks by the way. I'm just going to shower than I'll tally and go from there.

Homebrew Wealth Holding

Maple Grove

Cost: 5 Wealth

Build Time: 1D3 Months

Effects: 2+ Wealth

Limitations: Requires dense forest, cannot be begun in summer

Description: A large grove of maple trees set aside for the production of maple syrup, a highly lucrative resource.


Docks

Cost: 5 Wealth

Build Time: 1D6 Months

Effects: +1 House Fortunes, Allows trade with distant lands

Description: A series of docks that are built which allow the mooring of ships. A stepping stone on the path to a full fledged port.

(Also, House Fortunes come up with a blessing, so you guys got an additional 3 wealth, for a total of 10)

So with that house fortunes roll, you actually have enough wealth to build both if you guys want to go for it. It'll be a hard test, but it's not impossible.

So I'll need 3D6 for persuade please. Also, comment if were going for just the port, or both the grove and port

Rolled 4, 1, 6 = 11 (3d6)

>>2952397
Just port

Rolled 5, 3, 2 = 10 (3d6)

>>2952366
both?

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

>>2952397
Hope

Hope? I'm assuming that was meant to be both?

Rolled 5 (1d6)

Alright well I'm gunna roll a d6 just to move ti along. odds is both, evens is just the port

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~ Persuasion Test ~
~ Rolled 12 vs DC:15
~ Result : Test Failed

Yeah... Markus doesn't like leaving his treasury empty. Even if it would mean the promise of more wealth.

"Father, if I may, I would recommend that in addition to financing the grove, we should also begin work on the port as well. I'm sure the money would incite the smallfolk to move easier. Not only that, but it will take longer to build the port, and if we start construction on that we will be able to ship it sooner rather than later."

Your father sighs heavily before speaking.

"Manfryd, you don't try to ply the small, you command them. You need to forget that you arn't one of them anymore. Harold.

The old steward stirs and Markus inquires after the current state of the treasury.

"My lord, the treasury currently stands at 2000 Gold Dragons, but I would side with your son on this. He speaks true, and you often need to spend money to make it., and the building of the port would see that."

"I am still loath to leave empty the vault. Just be content in your success for now Manfryd. Your docks will come, just not now."

Not soon after, the meeting is adjourned. You walk through the castles long grey halls and realize the place is still strange to you.

You've the better part of a day to spend and explore. What do you want to do?

> Head back to the library
> Go train in the yard
> Visit someone (who?)
> Something Else (Write in)

>>2952551
>> Go train in the yard

>>2952551
> Go train in the yard

It is tempting to go visit Helena to spew "maybe i will have more luck in putting a brat in that barren wasteland of yours"

>>2952551
> Head back to the library
clean and tidy up the place.

>>2952551
>> Go train in the yard

>>2952551
> Head back to the library
Our father is not a businessman at all

>>2952551
>Go train in the yard

Well some family shit just popped up, so I've got to dip for a while. I'll be back tonight to if anyone is still around. Fucking family getting in the way of /qst/ing...

>>2952577
Markus is a soldier, and thats about it. Thats part of the reason Harold hasn't been able to do anything over the years, that and he doesn't really have the backbone to stand up to your father at all.

See you guys in a few hours hopefully

>>2952551
> Go train in the yard

So Is divorce an option for Lords in Westeros? Cause stepmum's basically dead weight and also a cunt, unless they're really loving in private or the sex is killer.

>>2953334
It is not an option

You needed to train. Your desire for knowledge went deeper than just that of a cerebral nature. You felt the need to understand combat, to learn the strikes, counters and the general feel of the dance that was combat.

You walked down to the yard and shrugged into your armor before picking up a wooden greatsword and heading over to a wooden mannequin. You remembered the steps Ser Greyson had taught you and you went through them tirelessly. As you train, Ser Karson takes notice of you and hobbles over on his peg leg to inspect your work.

"Are you chopping wood or swinging a fucking sword?" he asks bluntly.

You stop and stare at him before the constant stream of vitriol that comes out of his mouth continues.

"Don't grip so tight, your not swinging an axe into wood. Soft hands are the key. A strong grip, but soft. And look at your feet.

You look down before he throws his hook for a hand around your neck and pulls you to the ground.

"You'll have to do better than fucking that bastard. Never take your eyes off you opponent. And don't fucking start with me about how we western fighting. When your in my yard, EVERYONE is your opponent.

As you pick yourself up you continue to swing at the mannequin, trying to soften you grip. You can feel the master at arms eyes narrow on you without even looking at him. You step and swing, trying to change your stance when he kicks out at you with his peg leg. This time it meets with all your weight placed upon on it, and he smiles comes down on his scarred face. You yourself feel a smile coming on before he uses his hook to hook around the inside of your knee and pulls. With no traction against the wet mud, you find yourself slipping again and end up flat on your back staring at the cloudy sky. Ser Karson finally walks away, muttering about youth and how useless young men were nowadays.

It mattered not to you. Insults and the like ran off you like water off of a ducks back. You'd grown up being the object of ridicule and scorn, and besides, it mattered not who fell under Ser Karsons gaze, they were not good enough. From the basic infantryman all the way to their captains, including knights such as Ser Vance and Ser Greyson, they all fell victim to the acidic master at arms.

You still felt the injuries from your fight with the now dead Ser Rossmund, especially your ribs. Your armor chafed at them, and swinging the sword with the necessary two handed strikes caused pain to spread up and around your side. You manage to keep up the tireless pace for nearly an hour before fatigue and pain bring your training to a stop. You rest upon a bench and watch the men drill in formation. As unpleasant as Ser Karson was, he knew how to train men. Most of the your fathers men were exceptionally well trained, and obeyed orders flawlessly. You even spied Ser Greyson watching from a rampart. He'd returned to Oakmoss as soon as he'd been able to ride, and although it had been two weeks he still wasn't quite back to training yet.

You take off your armor and dress down to a simple shirt and britches, and begin to run laps of the ramparts. On your third lap Ser Greyson turns and faces you, and as you make eye contact you slow down and come to a stop.

"Do you have a minute Manfryd? I...I never actually thanked you for saving my life."

The young man looks confused, ashamed but most of all embarassed. You yourself are stunned into silence, mouth nearly hanging open. He takes your lack of response as a prompt to keep going.

"I might have been wrong about you. And while you are a bastard, a loose cannon and you dont appreciate the magnitude of the gifts you've been given, you have the potential to be better. The fact you led my men successfully in their first battle...well it speaks about your capability."

He sucked his teeth after admitting you'd led his Grey Guard to victory. It was clearly a difficult thing to admit for him, and it was a step towards, if not a friendship, than at least a healthy respect for each other.

~ How do you respond ~
> Talk down your achievements, saying how it was his training that helped
> Talk about how you wished he'd been there to fight beside you
> Thank him but keep the sentiment to a minimum
> Write in

>>2953890
>> Talk about how you wished he'd been there to fight beside you
>I won't lie, I had little idea what I was doing leading the defense. I'm just glad we're all still breathing and the bandits are on the back foot.

>>2953890
>Think nothing of it, I know my own worth and in the future you should watch how you talk to the heir of the house. Whether you like it or not I am your superior and the next time you bring up my heritage I will have you replaced without a second thought. Also they are not your men, they are my men.

>>2953890
>> Talk about how you wished he'd been there to fight beside you
When are we taking Bolun's daughters?

>>2953910
Would you rapefags fuck off

>>2953912
rude

>>2953912
Who said anything about rape. The girls lost a dad, why not help them by being their daddy?

For real though lets focus on being the the best bastard heir and make our dad proud.

>>2953912
The eldest girl is going to whore herself out anyways. We're offering them a place to live and work at Oakmoss. In return all we ask for her is to warm our bed.

>>2953925
>Inb4 we literally have her use a metal bed warmer to warm our bed.

"I'd have rathered you'd been there with me if i'm being honest" you begin.

"I had little and less idea what I was doing. I'd only read about tactics before that battle, and I killed my first man during it as well. It's funny, time went by so fast the night was over before it had started, and at the same time, everything seemed to be going in slow motion."

Ser Greyson nods his head before commenting about how battle and death did strange things to both time and men.

"All I mean to say is that, in hindsight, I'd rather you had been there, and I'm just glad that I managed to save you. They're your men after all, and the Grey Guard still need their Captain. That is why you named them that right?"

He smiles sheepishly. He hungered for fame and glory, that much was obvious.

"I saw what Ser Karson did to you down there. He did the same thing to me when I was a squire. Once I'm recovered, I can resume your training if you'd like, unless you'd rather your father do it? He is a fierce fighter after all."

"I imagine that my father will see to my training, but I could always use a sparring partner. The fight against the robber knight showed me that I've a long way to go in matters of the sword."

Ser Greyson shakes his head, before agreeing so long as you leave the bar brawling to the sidelines. When you agree you clasp hands and share a nod, before continuing on with your physical training.

After you finish and clean yourself up in a wash basin, you still had a few hours before the day was done.

> Head back to the library
> Visit someone (who?)
> Something Else (Write in)

>>2953940
>> Head back to the library

>>2953940
>> Visit someone (Bolun's girls)

>>2953947
+1

>>2953940
>> Head back to the library
Disregard thots, acquire thoughts.

>>2953940
>Visit someone (Bolun's girls)

You horny bastards. If you guys really want to bed Boluns daughter that bad (only one is remotely old enough, and shes only 16) the next time we're in the village we can offer her a job in the castle. It is going to be a difficult seduce test to actually bed her though, because she is awfully scared of you. She saw you at your absolute worse, and you knee capped her father in front of her eyes. Not exactly bedroom conversation. So I can do that , but for now it looks like were off to the library.

>>2953963
pretty sure it's some asshole trying to shitpost and fuck over the quest.

>>2953953
>>2953960
1 uid each

>>2953964
Posted before, I'm on my work computer.

QM when can we spend our xp?

You'd trained for a better part of the afternoon, and as you walked back to the castle, you decided you'd head back to the library and see if you could start to organize or catalog the books and scrolls.

You found the tower and ascended to the top floor. You would work your way from the top down. As you walked up the stairs to the top floor, your greeted with the musty old bed frame and desk, and some smaller shelves with what look like the newest books in the tower. They were still at least a couple of decades old if the dust was any indicator, but you cleaned the grime off of them and sorted them, first by category of contents and then alphabetically.

This truly was where you were happiest. And as you gathered up ink pots that had dried out and placed them near the door, you find yourself remembering your apprenticeship under your foster father. You'd like to create books again, but you had so many ideas, so many ambitions but there was not near enough wealth to achieve them all right now. Not to mention your father and his wife. While he was only ignorant to the intricacies of trade, having had so much of his knowledge devoted to the arts of war, his wife was another matter entirely. She despised you, and only seemed to wish to undermine anything you tried to do.

All these thoughts and more go through your head as you organize. The books range in topics from a tome regarding spells on how to summon dark entities from some man you can only assume was an essosi, all the way to the cross breeding of intricate orchids and other flowers, written by a maester of the citadel. You find yourself particularly interested in that last volume, as plants and flowers had always been of a natural interest to you.

You finally tear your eyes away from the old vellum pages, candles burning low and you gaze out the window to see the moon hanging low in the sky. As you begin to descend down the stairs, you notice what looks like a rune carved ever so faintly into the keystone above the window. It looks like a stylized "M" in the vague likeness of a bat. Perhaps if you had time in the coming days you'd be able to research what that rune meant, or if there were any secrets that it might hold. But those were issues for another night, and now sleep called...

And that's going to be game for me tonight I think. I'm heading back to work tomorrow, and I expect I'll be gone for a few weeks so I'm gunna try to get a real solid groundwork for the next thread laid out. Something along the lines of watching your father hold court, drama with Helena and preparing and travelling to Crows Nest for a tournament.

As always I'll be around to answer questions and participate in discussion if anyone has anything to ask.

Also, if anyone is on twitter and want to be updated on when I'll be running next, this is the quests twitter - https://twitter.com/BloodStormGm. Thanks for playing guys!!

>>2953978
I'm planning on doing that in the next thread, and seeing as we currently have 23 as of the end of this session, I might push it to the end as if we're successful in the challenges we could potentially have over 30 exp and be able to purchase an upgrade to an ability, not just bonus dice. But I'll play that by ear when it happens.

>>2954017
Thanks for running!

>>2954017
Thanks for running, and apologies for the smutfags.

Does anyone else find it sad we haven't impaled anyone yet? I feel that should be our thing.

Manfryd the Impaler.

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>>2947451
>Hang him. Justice is blind.
No it isn't.