Play@YSDC

Eight Viking men and one witch stood huffing and panting at the edge of the mountains bordering the shores of Helluland. They had run a full mile and a half to escape the metamorphing monsters that had attacked and sunk the Icebreaker; killing or carrying off most of its crew. Now there was finally peace and silence as they were given the opportunity to catch their breath.

Ingvar only recognized four of the faces.


Melkorka, the hag and master of the 18 rune stones. Great care should be taken when dealing with her. Ingvar knew her to take men to her bed chambers as punishment for their insubordinance.



Tristan, the mountaineer. Ingvar had left him stranded on the Icebreaker as he went back for his second bag of much needed supplies.



Logain, Captain Gunharr’s military advisor. He had narrowly escaped Kor-Gamon after Orm had been swallowed whole by the massive Killer Whale.



Oddlog, a Viking bezerker. Ingvar had exchanged much more than words with Oddlog aboard the Icebreaker. Oddlog was identified as one of the chosen ones by Melkorka. The witch believes that one of the men in the prison hold that day would decide the fate of all the Vikings on Helluland. His partner in debauchery Hildegarr is nowhere to be seen. The last time Ingvar had seen Oddlog and Hildegarr they were suspended some 15 ft in the air, tied off to one of the ship masts as Kor-Gamon in whale form thrashed them about like rag dolls. It appears Hildegarr did not survive the encounter.

The other 4 Vikings were unfamiliar to Ingvar. So many drunken nights at sea had blended all their faces into one hazy blurry stranger rowing by night and by day.

Tristan, breathing hard, began to uncoil some rope and dug through a small sack he had managed to ferry to shore on his back. He shivered uncontrollably as he lectured Ingvar.

This is not enough to c…. c….carry us through the mountains. Ingvar, damn your hide… I asked you to w…w…wait for me… We n…. n….eeded to get the c.. climbing gear to shore. N…Now… We’re d….d….d…doomed.

The spell Melkorka had casted on the crew of the Icebreaker was beginning to wear off. The bitter cold began to nip at their soaking wet clothing. They would all die soon from hypothermia soon if a fire was not lit.

"Stop whining Tristan you little girl before i skin you as a coat."
Ingvar horks a bloody mass in the snow.

"Witch!" "You there, witch!"
"You better have a flint box in your bag of tricks or we're all going to die"

"You men come with me", he says to 3 of the unfamiliar vikings. "We're going to collect wood, and maybe scout out a nice cave to call our own."

"The rest of you, if you hear screaming it means we're already dead. Don't be a hero and come looking for us, just someone kill this bastard for me" Ingvar says, pointing to Oddlog.

"Let's go."

Oddlog grunts and looks at Ingvar with wild eyes as he sits shivering on the snow.

The 3 Vikings do as they are told and Melkorka busies herself with some old thick pieces of bark. She scratches runes and cackles quietly to herself as she carves.

Ingvar sees no trees as he scans the horizon. Not a single spec of vegetation. There is a reason the Vikings had called this place Helluland. “Land of Flat Rocks”
After a short search, Ingvar finds a large cash of driftwood further up the shore, well away from the frightening beasts and terrible seas of Kor-Gamon. The three Vikings take an immediate liking to Ingvar. Either that or are simply taking his orders like good Viking soldiers.

When Ingvar returns with enough wood for a few hours of burning, Melkorka is speaking softly with Oddlog and Tristan is still making an inventory of their climbing equipment.

"Witch! Get that spark ready"

"YAaa.. this is good.. " Ingvar mutters to himself as he starts to arrange wood in a campfire. "this is gonna feel gooood, gather round boys"

"Tomorrow we're going to have to hunt, or else find some natives to plunder, maybe up in those hills. We wont survive long out here alone"

"You and you" Ingvar points to the two vikings who didn't help collect wood "You have first watch, you have second watch. I'll take the third. Watch for red demon eyes stalking you in the night... heh heh."

"Sleep well boys"

Melkorka raises a fire with her magic rune stones and then begins to toss an assortment of sparkling gems around the party’s camp.

As long as the fire burns bright no creature other than man shall pass by the sparkle of these stones.



When the fire is lit and the witch’s magic has been set in their defense, Melkorka calls Oddlog and Ingvar away from the other sleeping Vikings. Logain, Tristan and the others sleep peacefully while the witch speaks softly with the two Viking rivals.

You two are destined to kill one another and this pleases you both, does it not. I have seen your battle mirrored in countless sagas. One will live and one will die, but not today. Not until I discover the identity of the chosen one. He who will run with the giants and dine with the gods. Ride with the Valkryes and whisper skraeling secrets with the godess of the sea.

Melkorka looks at Ingvar and licks her lips in a manner that could only be described as sexual.

I know others have survived the sinking of the Icebreaker and the attack by those red- eyed devils. My bard Alrik still yet lives as I can feel his magic. He is many miles inland from here, beyond even the mountains around us. How he traveled so far in so short a time I am dumbfounded to say. I can also sense the presence of familiar magics and magics I have never felt before. I will leave our path to you… Ingvar and Oddlog… chosen of the Norse clan. I know the way as it is carved in blood and rune on the wall of destiny. It is unwise, however, for a wisdom to choose for her people when she can see all possible futures before her. Do you understand?

Melkorka looks at Ingvar and licks her lips in a manner that could only be described as sexual.

Ingvar's screwed uglier and older bitches than this. He'll keep it in the back of his mind, in case Helluland gets the best of him.

Ingvar squints and scratches his head, trying hard to understand what the fuck the old woman is talking about. He shakes his head and grunts and stands.

"You heard her old man... you're gonna diiiie. Not yet. BUT SOON!"

Oddlog growls at Ingvar’s words but doesn’t speak with much confidence… A giant bite-mark from the Killer Whlae Gorgamaon still fresh on his chest… itching and swelling its way to an infectious nightmare.

We’ll see whose axe ends up in whose gut boy!

The Vikings warm themselves by the fire for a few hours, allowing their clothing to dry. The light hours fade quickly as the sun falls behind the mountains. Tristan is first to wake from their short slumber. He takes out the map of Helluland and spreads it out in front of the fire for anyone who wishes to look at.

He takes out a pen and quill and begins to scratch out locations.

He marks an X. close to the shore on the east side of the Island.

He then circles another spot further west along the same shoreline.

The Horned Helm was supposed to anchor here and clear the area of any Skraeling settlements. We were meant to rendezvous with the Horned Helm and escort them into the mountains. We missed out mark by 20 miles cuz of them damn sea monsters. What say you Ingvar… Oddlog… We could walk along the shore and hope to catch them or try and head them off through the mountains. Melkorka seems to be thinking you should be calling the shots. I couldn’t give a fuck which way we go. With the supplies we got, we’ll be lucky to make it through the night.

Ingvar scratches his head and wishes he wasn't so stupid.

The Horned Helm is surely on the bottom of the sea, her crew in the bellies of those demons. They wont be waiting on the beach anyway, not with those bastards running around. We'll head to the mountains and try to find some people.

Our only hope of surviving is to steal some food from the natives.

Oddlog nods his head.

Ingvar is as dumb as he is ugly… But he is right! We must find the skraelings and steal their food and take their women…

Tristan agrees and Melkorka grins, pleased that her chosen ones are finding some common ground. The witch spreads out a black leather roll onto the ice. She reaches into her pouch and tosses six grey stones onto the leather roll. The stones are etched with runes. Once they have settled, Melkorka rolls her eyes into the back of her head and chants in Old Icelandic.

Finally after an uncomfortable silence the witch raises her head and speaks.

We must follow the sea westward. This will lead us to the Thule…. The gods have warned me… They are ready for us!

Tristan begins to inventory their supplies again as the rest of the group warms themselves by the fire.

Oddlog sits down next to Ingvar.

Ingvar… you are a cunt and I look forward to the day when my axe crushes your skull. I hope your friends are all dead and lie rotting at the bottom of the sea. That said, do you think we should do as the witch says and walk the shoreline? She is also a cunt and I don’t want to risk what few men we have left in another fight with those shape shifting sons of bitches.

The witch chuckles off in the distance…

He He He He He!

We must find a village in this barren desert of ice and rock, or we will surely die. I would much rather fight a retard like you than those those shape shifters again, but I believe the witch can lead us to Thule. We will follow the sea as she said.

"MEN!!! Get ready to move!! And keep your eyes pealed lads, for we may face the demons of Helluland soon"

Logain stands and begins to strap his armour. He looks out over the remaining Vikings, sitting weary around the fire, cut bruised



You heard em yah bunch of lazy cunts... get up and count yourselves!

The Vikings rise and begin to walk, the sea just in sight over their left shoulders. Melkorka lags behind with Oddlog, speaking in hushed voices and looking often to the sea. Every so often Ingvar hears Oddlog shouting and swearing her way. He turns to see the brute swing wide for the witch but she was quick and spry for a woman her age and Melkorka was soon back at his side whispering unkown evils.

Logain has taken point with two other Viking soldiers. He was quick to command and the men respected him, but he was no leader. He lacked imagination.

Tristan the mountaineer, walked beside Ingvar and was silent for the first hour of their long walk to the Thule lands. He seemed deeply troubled.



Your friends were killed by those creatures weren't they? Sigfurd and Weoulf was it?

Your friends were killed by those creatures weren't they? Sigfurd and Weoulf was it?

Ingvar only grunts an acknowledgement at the mention of his dead friends. If their demise is affecting him, he doesn't let it show. Eventually he takes notice of Tristan. "You seem troubled brother... and rightfully so! For we are all dead men." he slaps him on the back "but not to worry! Dry clothes and a warm fire awaits us in Valhalla"

Ingvar continues to walk in silence, pausing only to observe the chaos between Oddlog and the witch, trying to decide which of the two he hates more. Maybe they'll strangle each other.

He keeps a wary eye on the sea, waiting for some fell creatures to crawl out of the depths.
His stomach growls.

Tristan sighs….

We don’t have the equipment we need to travail the mountains. The witch said we were headed to Asgard. She jests of coarse… but if we are climbing…. most of our gear was left behind when the Icebreaker sunk. I’ve barely enough climbing gear for five let alone a Viking army.

High overhead a raven circles.

"Hmmm..." Ingvar growls.

"Enough gear for five."
He glances around at the other Vikings.

"We may need to thin the herd. But don't worry brother, you will be the last one I kill"
Ingvar gives him a hearty slap of comradery.

"The raven circles us... it is a bad omen."

"WITCH!!! HOW FAR TO THE THULE LANDS?"

The witch looks up to the sky and then hobbles up to Ingvar with that unnatural dexterity the Viking had noticed earlier on the Icebreaker. Tristan quickly leaves Ingvar's side, disgusted by the witch, and joins Logain.



Odin keeps a watchful eye on our progress my handsome chosen one. We must be on the right path if we draw the atttention of one of his foul Ravens.

She looks up at the sky and pulls a rune from the leather pouch at her side. Melkorka holds the rune to her eye and then passes it to Ingvar.

Muninn! The more mischievous of our God-King's black birds. Ignore him. He will no doubt try and lead us astray. Follow your heart Ingvar. The Thules are close and we will soon have all the provisions we require to complete our quest. Plus some Skraeling cunt for you and your men if you fancy that sort of thing. Or do you prefer boys chosen one. Whatever your wish... I will see it done!

"You better be right witch - Food in my belly and cunny on my lap. Helluland owes us that much at least."

"PICK UP THE PACE LADS!!! WE'RE NEARING THULE. BE READY FOR ACTION."

Ingvar mutters a prayer to the gods, "with axe and spear I will disembowl the cowardly savages of this land"

The group of tired and hungry Vikings walk for another hour or so... The terrain is flat and cold. The mouthans a few miles inland now seem even colder. Every so often Ingvar spots something big moving far off in Ocean. Ingvar squints his eyes and makes out a small pod of Orcas following them around a kilometer from the shorline.

Ingvar tries to remember why this migth be dangerous or important but he can't place it. Ever since the Icebreaker had mysteriously sunk, his memory was a little foggy. Still they were beautiful creatures, worth his attention.

ooc- Just so you know... Ingvar has no memory of the red eyed beasts that attacked him and killed his friends. The longer he went without speaking about it, the more hazy the memory got until it was finally gone altogether.

The Vikings came across some rocky terrain. Finally Tristan, now on point, stopped and crouched down motioning for Ingvar to approach.



Shhhh! Skraelings!

Ingvar and Oddlog both crawl up to Tristan, hiding behind some frozen clumps of driftwood along the beach.

He spots six Eskimo's carrying spears walking along the edge of the ocean. One of them is holding a giant Icelandic mare by its reins. The massive horse's rider is stripped and tied to it's back shivering in the freezing cold arctic wind.

Oddlog looks ot Ingvar and smiles, a crazed bloodlust in his eyes.



I'd say kill them all for anyone but you Ingvar! You glorious Fuck-Face!

Ingvar hits the dirt. His heart is racing.

"We hit them", he whispers to Oddlog.

He gives the vikings behind him hand signals with military precision:
..stay low... ...get in front of them... ...wait for my order...

"Careful in there old man, wouldn't want to get your ugly face carved off"

Ingvar squirms through the rocky snowbank.

Oddlog chuckles playfully with Ingvar. This was all just delightful foreplay to the Viking brawler before he was given the chance to shut Ingvar's mouth permanently with his axe.

Ingvar, now in the lead, spots some high rocks that lead close to the shoreline. There is a gap between them that they would have to cross. If they could reach the rocks the Skraelings would pass right by them.

Melkorka cackles...



What would you have us do chosen ones? Is the Iceland scum even worth saving. There is food and Skraeling whores spoiling as we speak...



ooc- roll Hide if you want to move to the rocks. Otherwise you will be attacking them from the snowbank as they spot you moving in. Some of the Vikings have bows as well. (Three)

Ingvar signals the 3 archers to stay behind the snow bank. The rest including Oddlog and Melkora will follow him and try to cross the gap in the rocks to get in front of them. If they get spotted then Ingvar will charge straight at them.

"Valhalla awaits us comrades"

rolled 92 for hide

Ingvar makes his way to the high rocky cover but stones loosen beneath his feet. Oddlog behind, behind him, winces.



Ingvar you Fuck!

The Skraeling hunters all point their spears at Ingvar but are too far to throw effectively. Instead they back away and stand next to the large horse with their spears pointed. Two of the Eskimos pull out crude looking bows. The Skraeling dressed in heavy set furs and holding the Icelland mare unslings a bone club from his back and whirls it around his head shouting.



atjinga naipitaksaunngi:

Melkorka hisses behind them and dives to the ground cackling...



What now chosen ones... You are discovered.

Ingvar snorts his disgruntlement at losing initiative, then out comes the axe.

"CHAAAAAAAARGE!!!!"

He bolts towards the Eskimos like an enraged bull. He runs straight at them as fast as he can, snarling and drooling without any thought of grace or tactics. The other vikings will really have to hoof it if they want to keep up.

Ingvar charges and the Eskimos let loose their spears.

Oddlog and Logain charge behind Ingvar.

ooc- Eskimos with spears. (3) http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1702919/ 51: Miss
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1702922/ : Miss, Hit. 5 damage to Ingvar. His armor takes 4 of it.

ooc- Eskimos with Bows. (2) 26: Hit 2 damage , 87,99, 60 (4 damage, 2 damage) Both arrows bounce off of Ingvar's armor.

As Ingvar charges the Vikings on the Hill led by Tristan let loose their arrows.

ooc- Vikings with bow. (3) Miss, Miss, Hit , Hit , miss, miss

ooc- Tristan with bow. : Miss, Hit (2 damage)

Spears and arrows fly in either direction. The Eskimos pepper Ingvar but none of the crude looking projectiles have enough power to penetrate the Viking's armour. One spear and two arrows bounce harmlessly off his chest. A second spear grazes Ingvar's arm leaving a small slash on his bicep. ( 1 damage)

Oddlog bellows his battle cry as Logain tries to rally the remainder of the Vikings. The witch Melkorka stays still behind the rocks, giggling wildly.

The Eskimos form a crude looking circle around their Viking prisoner. As Ingvar and Oddlog charge, the larger Skraeling of the group holding the bone club steps forward to receive Ingvar's charge. He calls out waving his massive whale bone club in the air.



Takook--tuq!

ooc- roll initiative 1d10 plus dex(14), strike, parry, damage 2d6+1, damage bunus 1d6

"NYAAAARRRRRGGHHH"

init 1d10 +14, strike/parry 1d100, dam 2d6+1, dam bonus 1d6 (1d10+14,1d100,1d100,2d6+1,1d6=[3, 14], [77], [97], [5, 4, 1], [2])

oc. i dont really get this, i guess 1d10+14 is 3+14=17 ? and 2d6+1 is 5+4+1=10 ?

oc. Round 2,3 and 4 for ingvar

Round 2
round 2 (1d10, 1d100, 1d100, 2d6, 1d4) round 3 (ditto) round 4 (ditto) (1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[5], [20], [93], [1, 4], [3])

Round 3
Round 3 (1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[1], [90], [79], [4, 2], [3])

Round 4
round 4 (1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[10], [84], [42], [2, 3], [2])


"NGH...YAAAAARRR" "KAAK" "GIT SOME"

Ingvar charges into the Eskimo circle with Oddlog at his side. The two groups crash into each other as bone spears and metal shields collide in a thunderous applause of Viking violence. Ingvar misses in his furious bloodlust and soon realizes the Skraelings are no strangers to combat. Their spears set for a charge... many of the Vikings charge gut first into the tightly formed spear wall. Oddlog is quick to enter one of his beserker rages and slices an Inuit man's spear in two spitting in the Skraelings face and laughing out loud.



Ingvar you cunt! You swing like a girl.

Arrows whistle past Ingvar's head from behind as his row of archers in back fire just too late. The Viking archers, realizing the futilty of firing into an open crowd, drop their bows and draw their broadswords and shields.

Then as the Vikings finally get their barings, the superior armed Norsemen take control of the battle. Two arrows whiz past Ingvar's shoulder. Tristan has no qualms about firing into a crowd. One arrow goes wild as the other sticks fast into the Skraeling' shoulder.

Oddlog slashes wildly spilling his Skraeling oppont's blood over the snow. The Eskimo hunter holds his side and continues to defend their prisoner.



I'll fuck you like a woman Ingvar!! After I've had my fill of Skraeling blood I'm always harder than farm boy at a fucking festival!

Ingvar's attack is blockedk by the Skraeling's spear. He hears it splinter, but the spear holds well enough to stop Ingvar's axe.

The fury of both sides seems to die down for a minute. Oddlog and Logain both find flesh as the battle takes a much more defensive tone. Two more arrows bury themselfes into the white bear skins of the Eskimo battling Ingvar. Tristan's aim has definitely improved. The Viking mountaineer has climbed a rock and finds the improved angle much more fitting for his skill with the bow.

Oddlog cries as he draws more blood.



I'm gonnnnna Fuuuuuuuuck You!

Then Logain who had been whittling away at his Skraeling takes the first life.

He raises his sword and howls over the dead Eskimo. The tide seems to change quickly and Logain's kill has given the Vikings a second wind and drove a spike of fear into the heart of the Inuit hunters.



DEATH!

OK - give me some more rolls Ingvar!

Ingvar is enraged at Oddlog's success.

"OH COME ON!!!" He complains to the Eskimo he's fighting, as he tries to get around the bastard's spear.

3 more rounds (1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[5], [94], [43], [2, 3], [3], 1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[8], [15], [42], [5, 5], [4], 1d10,1d100,1d100,2d6,1d4=[8], [37], [94], [6, 2], [3])

"WHY..." <<WHACK>> "WON'T.." <<WHACK>> "YOU..." <<WHACK>> "DIE"

Logain continues to press his advantage dropping another Eskimo to the snow. Teh battleground now looks like a polar bear had just slaughtered a walrus on the ice. Blood slowly inches itself arounf the combatants making the snow aa slippery place to stand. Ingvar swings wildly and the Eskimo stabs upwards. His spear breaks on Ingvar's armour as Tristan puts teo more arrows in the Eskimo's side, sendning the hunter rolling to the ground in the throws of death. Oddlog then seems to catch a bit of Ingvar's luck as he swings wide too.




Get away from me Ingvar! Your a death luck charm if ever I saw a cunt like yours!
Not even making sense anymore the Viking Beserker swings wild again.

The leader of the Eskimos seems positioned for a killing strike on one of Logain's Kinsmen, but he slips on all th eblood and melting snow and falls shivering into the water.

Seizing his moment... Ingvar moves through the fight and finds the leader struggling top gain his footing. He buries his giant Huscarl into the leader's neck and the head barely holds onto its body by a strap of skin and furs. Logain finishes off another just as an Eskimo plunges his bone tipped spear into one of his men's gut. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he whispers something about the halls of Valhalla before falling dead to the snow. The rest of Logain's men find little difficulty killing off the remaining Eskimo force. Oddlog can't seem to get his swing back but Logain's men make short work of Oddlog's opponent; hacking and slashing with sword and axe until only the Vikings stand victorious.

The Viking strapped to the Icelandic mare moans and kicks for someone to untie him.

Ingvar yanks his axe out of the eskimo leader's neck to a fountain of spurting blood.

"Heh.. heh" half panting, half laughing, crazed with bloodlust.
He holds his axe in the air and bellows a war cry, saluting distant Tristan for his aim.

"WELL DONE MEN!!! TAKE THEIR FURS!!! LOOK FOR FOOD!!!"

"Good work old man", he says to Oddlog, "If you fucked as good as you fight I'd be splitting your ass open right now."

He wipes blood off his axe, and walks over to the Viking tied to the horse.
"Well well... what have we here?" He rips the gag off.

The men start rooting through the Eskimo's things.

Oddlog, Melkorka and Logain walk up behind Ingvar to listen to what the captive Viking has to say.

Oddlog mumbles something about a pussy and being captured by Skraeling dogs!

The Viking gasps for fresh air as Ingvar takes off the gag.



Praise Odin!

Melkorka hisses at the thought.

Everything these Skraelings touch smells of fish. We've been walking for hours. I thoiught surely I'd be their next meal. These Skraeling dogs ambushed me last night when I was on patrol. I thought we had killed them all. My name is Broddi son of Hundalf

Broddi removes his helmet. His hair is gray and his beard braded, He has seen many winters which is not out of the ordinary for a Viking raid. Men of all ages come to die at sea so they can dine with Odin in the halls of Valhalla where true Viking warriors spend their eternity after they have been slain in battle.

Invar helps Broddi off the horse.
"Join with us, and take your revenge on the savages"
"Is that your horse? A fine mare! Steady and strong muscles!" He says patting her, "Lean!" Ingvar smacks his lips.

"Are there any more vikings alive from the last boat?"

Ingvar starts rooting through the eskimo's belongings, eating anything that resembles food.
oc. Luck roll to avoid eating razor blades (1d100=17)
He takes the furs off one of them and wraps them around himself.

"Tomorrow, we should track the Skraelings back to their village - we can kill more of them that way. Tonight we shall send off our fallen brother to the Halls of Odin.. If there's not enough wood to light a pyre then we will cast his body to the deep."

"You and you... go find wood. Witch, make yourself useful with that spark."

Logain clangs his sword against his shield and addresses the men.



All right you heard em lads. Get some fucking Fire wood to the ready. Tonight Hurken dines in Valhalla and we plan to send him home proper now don't we boys?

The Vikings cheer and soon begin collecting driftwood from the beach. None of them enjoy being so close to the shore after their encounter with the red-eyed shapeshifting devils of the sea. Melkorka the witch, however can't stop staring hungrily at it.

Finally Broddi thanks Ingvar and clasps hands with the Viking oarsmen.



More survived than didn't friend. I was just captured on patrol. We will soon overrun this Helluland and there's nothing these Skraelings savages can do about it.

Broddi flips the Eskimo chief over and pulls a leather bound flask tied from his waist. He opens it and drink heartily, red wine spilling down his cheeks. Broddi offers it to Ingvar and spits on the dead Skraeling's lifeless corpse.

Skraeling Cunt! This is my wine!

So then Ingvar! How many men can we expect the great Captain Gunharr to contribute to the war effort?

Ingvar greedily gulps down the wine and wipes his beard.

"What you see, is all that remain from the Ice Breaker. 40 odd souls perished when the ship broke apart on the rocks." Ingvar strains to remember the details of the ship wreck. "Fucking Gunnhar.. I can't remember but I'm sure it was his fault. Maybe this witch cursed us.. ah, fuck. I don't know."

Ingvar horks on the ground.

"Anyway... we're carrying all we have. We got to find your shipmates, before we freeze and starve and die. We're ready for action though.. hungry men are the best warriors."

Ingvar chats with Broddi, and tries to find out where the eskimos and the other Vikings are. Is your ship still afloat? He'll order some guys to stand watch that night.

oc. we don't remember the red-eye bastards right?

Logain covers his mouth as he yawns, walking over the recent slaughter looking at the Skraeling dead for anything of interest.

Logain bends down along with Tristan and begins to inspect the slain Skraelings. They are adorned heavily with bone and ivory carved jewelry of various descriptions. They all carry stone or ivory knives, fur skins and boots. Goggles of a kind neither Viking had ever seen made from Bone with a long narrow slit down the center from which the wearer can see. Tristan picks up one of their crude bows and pulls back the string. He's surprised at it's strength.



If they had proper materials... these skraelings might have been fine archers. Look at this place... there isn't a tree in sight. They've used driftwood of all things... treated the wood.

He then lays the bow down respectfully on the Skraeling's chest.

Then Melkorka the witch hobbles up behind Logain and Tristan. She bends in close. Her foul smelling hair brushing gently up against the back of Logain's neck.



You admire the Skraeling's? Good! Powerful magic flows through this land. Old magic.... Odin's magic!

She cackles and looks form Logain to Tristan her eyes darting back and forth, sizing the two up like some mad gull.

Broddi looks up the coast and grunts.



I don't know how far we've been walking. We haven't left the shoreline though. Our ship the Nidhogg, still floats... We took some damage from whales of all things, when we first landed but once we were ashore, the Skraelings fell like old women or dogs... He looks at the witch and sniffs his disgust. Like there is a diference!

Broddi laughs and then stretches his back, his old bones sore from the long ride hunched over and bound to his own saddle

Some of the raiding party went North to seek stagglers and other Skraeling settlements. They left the rest of us behind to wait for you! I alone was taken on patrol so I imagine me mates are still holding the village.

ooc - you don't remember what happened exactly with the red eyed devils. You can barely picture them in your mind but the memory is still there. Not enough to talk about.. Just enough to know the danger is still there.

"They died well..."

Logain letting out a breath, quickly glancing to the crone slouched behind him from his peripheral vision before back to the dead skraelings at his feet.

"...we should go to the village then...maybe send a scout north to the raiding party?"

ooc- Sorry for the hold up! Your thread is about to get crowded! Maybe one of the new PC's will want to volunteer to ride to the Skraeling Village.

Skáldaspillir Gæirmund steps out of the group of survivors and speaks in a complete sentence for the first time since arriving on Helluland. He regards the Skraeling corpses.

"What about these? We can't just leave 'em out here like this-we should loot 'em or sacrifice them."

"Leave 'em for the mother-loving rats", Ingvar says with disgust and horks on the nearest one. "Look, if we bury every goddamn savage I kill we're going to be in Helluland forever." "We should light a pyre for our dead brother though - the smoke will serve as warning to the Skraelings. They'll come and see the slaughter that awaits them. HA HAARRGH!!"

"Then we should try to find the other ship, and our kin folk - we can do more damage that way."

Ingvar nods in agreement with himself, and takes a bite of frozen seal blubber.

Logain clears his throat, coming to his feet. He continues to casually look from one dead Skraeling to another.

"it might be best not to draw attention to ourselves until we've regrouped with the others.."

Gaeirmund speaks slowly and angrily, "I didn't say we should bury them, fool. Why would we want to do that? I said we should loot them or sacrifice them."

Ingvar thinks with his usual gluteal growl. "Ja, take their skins and food. Strap them to the horse." He tries on one of their bone eye goggles. "Maybe you're right Logain, if they see the smoke they might track us, and our kinsfolk may be far or hard to find" "Let's just cast our comrade to the sea, Odin will understand. Agreed?"

Ingvar hurridley takes the extra skins off the eskimos and straps them to the horse.
"Make yourself useful Oddlog, you festering pile of horse shit."

"We should get moving soon. My father's axe grows cold."

We don't have the time for this bickering!" Gudrun starts rummagin through the pockets of the eskimo's clothing, pulling something from one of their necks. "Besides, it is all useless. We don't need these ridiculous good luck charms!"

He mounts his horse, sheathes his sword, and nudges his horse in the side with a "Yah!"

Gaeirmund finds the most interesting object as he searches the Skraelings. A long dagger shaped like a man carved from polished ivory. A treasure amongst these savages for sure, but the ivory wouldn't fetch much back home. Everything else can easily be considered junk unless a few Vikings want some keep sakes.

Oddlog grunts to Ingvar but does what he is told, gathering skins and furs and placing them in the saddle bags of their newly aquired horse.

As Gudrun mounts the horse.. Oddlog lays a hand on his thigh.



What makes you think you're riding dog?

Gudrun snarls, and makes a low gutteral growl at Oddlog's pointed words. He shoves his hand away.

"I say I'm riding! I have walked for hours! If you have a problem with that....we will fight!"

He puts one hand on his sword as though to accentuate the point, and stares at him fiercely.

Melkorka steps in between the two large Vikings and the stench of her forces both men to step back.



Logain was right! Yessss! We should send word that the Icebreaker is no more. Whoever rides... rides alone to find The Grendel. To tell Gelga she must wait for me!

Melkorka cackles quietly as she waits for the Vikings to make a decision.

Broddi shakes his head.



It is many miles up the coast. Half a days ride. I could not make it.

Gudrun puts a gloved hand over his heart and stares fiercely, "I would be honoured!" He looks determined to ride that horse.

oc. we only have one horse here, which we just captured. It belonged to Broddi, the new NPC we just rescued (an old man). I wasn't sure if Gudrun realized he was starting a fight over the only horse or if he thought there was more than one horse. Either way, lets roll with the squabble, it's more viking that way.


Ingvar eggs on Oddlog. "You going to take that shit from him old man?"
"FIGHT!! FIGHT!!"

"Half my rations says Oddlog trounces 'em, who's in? Logain? Gaeirmund?"

OC I had no idea there was one horse, actually. Which is hilarious! Although keeper mentioned whoever gets the horse goes alone up the coast, so the issue is only who's going.

Gudrun dismounts, pulls his sword from it's sheath but does not raise it in the air quite yet. He stands, chest heaving from adrenaline. "What say you??? Will you venture up the coast alone? I would be honoured to take up this quest and find Gelga. I swear I will on my father's sword!"
Is the horse that important? Probably not! But Gudrun could never back down from an adventure. It was a curse, really.

Logain lets out a heavy sigh looking to the dead at his feet, before stepping away towards Gudrun and Oddlog. Approaching the two men, Logain tucks his thumbs beneath his belt, cocking out his elbows in an aggressive stance as his lips curl back to snarling teeth.

"Be quiet both of you, unless you wish to announce to the whole damned island of our location..." Logain says, calm and collected, studying the two with intense, unblinking eyes.

Gudrun stares blankly at Logain, then takes a step back and stares at Ingvar and Oddlog. He then looks back at Logain and nods silently.

Ingvar mutters, disappointed that they're not going to fight.

"I don't think we should split up. Broddi was alone on horseback, and they caught him... besides, Broddi can't make it over the hills without the horse."

To Melkorka, Ingvar says "Grendel can just suck it until we get there, witch."

He lashes driftwood together to make a raft, and drags the slain Viking on top. "See you in Valhalla brother."

Gaeirmund stops his hand from checking his rations. He wishes he had gotten a chance to gamble.

"Well, then lets get going. I'm getting the feeling we won't find much loot in the village, but we came all this way-might as well get something.."

Oddlog grunts and smiles devilishly at Gudrun as Ingvar goads him into a fight. Normally, it would have taken less to raise Oddlog’s blood but the Viking’s blood still dripped down his shoulder where he was pierced by a Skraeling spear.

When Ingvar suggests that Broddi needed the horse for travel, Melkorka hisses and Oddlog sighs with relief.



Very well Viking. The crew of the Grendel and the misdeeds of their witch Gelga will wait if it must. You are, after all, one of the chosen. I will trust that what you say could possssssibly be true to our destinies here on Helluland.

The Vikings then set to ferry their dead out to sea. The small makeshift raft acting as funeral pyre to Olaf Brigfundson floats out a few hundred feet as the Vikings pay their respects.

Everyone watches as the raft suddenly stops… A large smooth black form, mottled with patches of white grabs hold of the raft from the sea and drags it down. The Orca whale splashes about as it bites and pulls the dead Viking free of any bindings that held him to the raft. Then, once satisfied the raft would sink, the Orca slowly submerges itself back into the water, its tall bent dorsal fin sliding gracefully below the surface as it swims away from Olaf’s funeral pyre.

Melkorka cackles…

The waters are bubbling with life today… keep your feet dry boys.
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!

"What beasts are these!" Gudrun shouts, wide eyed at the large mammal that had just eaten the viking whole. He quietly shakes his head, then turns to trudge after the group.

He watches the raft bob in the surf and has a look of genuine dismay on his face.

"By the gods!!!"

Ingvar watches in amazment as the beast drags the viking to the depths.
He rubs his head trying hard to remember something, not sure what, but the fell beast triggers some unpleasant memory.

"WELL BOYS, NO SENSE KEEPING GRENDEL WAITING!!!" He hoofs it away from the shoreline faster than dignity allows.
"C'mon Broddi, on the horse!", he says heaving him up like a bag of meat, "There's a good fellow!!"

The group of Vikings travels north west along the shoreline, now keeping their distance from the water for fear of stirring the strange red eyed demons lurking below. After a short time the sun sets once again. It seems as though the sun only provides four or five hours of daylight here in this arctic wasteland.. The cold wind bites at their beards and tires their bones but the The Vikings are used to it. They stop after a few hours and Melkorka removes a rune covered stone painted red from her pouch. She tosses it onto a small pile of driftwood and the wood quicly catches fire.

Warm yourselves. We will rest. I must prepare a salve or you fools will never reach the Grendel alive. The witch begins to empty vials and herbs into a leather sac and grinds them with mortar and pestle.

Tristan sits down next to the fire. He pulls out some dried meat he had taken from the Skraelings and passes some to Gaeirmund.

He then unrolls a map of Helluland and points to a marked location on its shore.

This map was plotted briefly by a man aboard Eric the Red's ship as it sailed to Vinland. Not much to go on but if the cartogropher was mindful, we should reach the Grendel before next daylight if we keep moving through the night. I don't know what these creatures in the water intend or even if they show sign of intelligence but we should keep our distance from the shore. Quite frankly... I'm having difficulty remembering what the creature looked like cept for the red in its eyes.

ooc - Logain Spot Hidden check

ooc- Gaeirmund Listen check

Melkorka cackles as she listens to the Vikings conversation, busyingherself with her witchwork.

Oddlog sits close to Gudrun and Ingvar.

His eyes turn from Gudrun and then back to Ingvar several times before he shakes his head.

I cannot think clearly enough to decide which of you two goat herding ass tumblers I hate more... No matter... I can hate enough for the two of you!

Oddlog grabs some seal meat out of Ingvar's hand.. takes a big bite and passes it to Gudrun smiling.

The other bowman nudges Gudrun for some meat. Gudrun had met him previously on the Icebreaker. They had pracised shooting gulls with Tristan. His name was Keldrin.

Ignore him! Them Beserkers are all the same... Can't think past his own bloodlust to sort his manners out. He's goading you!

Oddlog smiles again.

Keep quiet Goat stain... I've an axe for you two!

Gudrun takes a big bite of seal meat and chews silently. He stares at Oddlog, meeting his gaze with an intense one of his own. He passes the meat to Keldrin and sighs. "You are tiresome to talk to! What with your constant insolense...I've half a mind to...." He puts a reassuring hand on his sword, then shakes his head.

"I'm regretting staying around you filthy pigs already! Except for you, Keldrin. Anyone who can shoot a gull that far from the boat is alright in my books."

He picks his teeth and eyes the group warily. "It's strange that none of us can remember what those beasts looked like. Tell us witch! This must be magic! Or did you bring a curse upon us!"

Gaeirmund is used to hearing his fellow warriors argue. He accepts Tristan's meat and chews it slowly, hunched over against the wind, thinking about all the looting and pillaging he has done and all the looting and pillaging he hopes to do.

This bores him soon, so he joins in the shouting.

"By all the drunken brawling in Valhalla-what did those monsters look like? Something clouds my mind! And We haven't even started drinking yet!"

Melkorka grins and approaches Gaeirmund placing a clammy hand on his shoulder.



This land's gods have many secrets... Much like our own. These red eyed devils have a curse around them; one that clouds your thoughts and masks your memories. Ingvar, chosen one of our people, fought the alpha devil. It would have killed him had he not fled.
Oddlog laughs out loud.



That I remember!

Melkorka cackles and moves to stand behind Ingvar. The witch places both hands on the Viking's shoulders and gently carresses his hair cooing like some sick bird.

His name was Kor-Gamon.. I scrawled his name on a rune shortly after. It helps you remember the foul creatures.

As the witch says the name of the devil, the memory returns to all who hear it. They remember the gulls landing on the deck of the Icebreaker before turning into ferocious white bears and killing as they pleased. Melkorka continues and moves again to Gudrun. She touches his neck, dragging a long black nail over her shoulder. She quickly recoils and throws Gudrun a quizical look.

Intersting... There was a glow in the water. I could see it from the dragon boat as you all swam for your lives. Some power beneath the sea guided their actions. I could hear her whispers in the waves...

Then Oddlog suddenly stands smiling.

Hildegarr? My friend! You're alive! Damn the gods you old dirty bastard!

Just on the edge of the fire's light Hildegarr stands motionless, blood still dripping from an open head wound wraping half way around his balding head. All the Vikings saw him impaled through his shoulder by a charging Narwhale before disappearing below the water. Hildegarr was one of the most ruthless men on the Icebreaker and had befriended Oddlog immediately. The two were a gruesome pair and bullied anyone they chose. Hildgegarr looks as though he's in a daze, staring blankly into the fire. He grunts unable to find words...



Unnnnnnngh!

Tristan stands.



Hildegarr... you're head! Someone help him!

Gudrun jumps to his feet and runs over to Hildegarr, putting an arm round his waist to support him and flinging his good arm over his shoulders. He walks slowly back to the campfire with him in tow. It would be good to get into the good books with these two, however impossible it seemed.

Gudrun let Hildegarr sit in his perch at the fire, and took a quick inspection of his wound. He ripped a sleeve of his tunic to wrap around his head. "Witch! Melkorka! Can you help him! He's bleeding badly!"

Gudrun stepped back from the witch and watched as she moved over Hildegarr, looking at her suspiciously. He didn't like the look she gave him last time. Old bag....keep your hands to yourself!

Ingvar springs to his feet, axe in hand.

"What devilry is this? Hildegarr !!! I saw you DROWN !!!!" "HOW DID YOU FIND US??" Ingvar's eye's dart madly with fear.
"This is not our comrade, men! Hildegar is dead. It is a demon from the depths sent to trick us. He will drag us to the underworld!!!"

Ingvar starts backing away slowly, eyes staring at the abomination and clutching his father's axe.

Gaeirmund looks at Melkorka. He might not trust her completely, but he is sure she is the only one who could really know if Hildegarr was being impersonated by a demon or not.

"If he was a demon, would his eyes be red like those of the sea-beasts?"

He picks his warhammer up from where it was resting on the ground, but does not make any threatening moves. He also takes a small leather flask from his belt and tosses it to Gudrun.

"Some strong mead might revive the man, if he is a man."

Hildegarr stares blankly at the fire as Gundrun consoles him. Oddlog steps forward and offers Hildegarr his skin of ale. Hildegarr takes it and begins to drink. The ale pours down his throat and Hildegarr shows little to no emotion as he drains the skin. Melkorka steps back and hisses like a caged animal. She moves behind her chosen one Oddlog and cowers.



He's dead!

Oddlog shoves the old witch aside.



You'd be thirsty too you old cow if you'd walked all this way with those wounds!

Melkorka cackles out a laugh and moves to Ingvar's side, caresssing the sheath of his scramasax.

Then Gudrun gets a good look at the Viking in the firelight as he lays his hands on him. There is a tear in his shoulder a foot wide where the Narwhale had scewered him and his left arm hangs a few inches lower than it should. His head is more wounded than he thought as well; small patches of brain and fragmented skull poke through the top of Hildegarr's head.

Then from the east, a second Viking approaches the fire and stops just 15 feet behind the Viking's crowded circle. None recognize the oarsman as his face is riddled in teeth and claw marks. A third Viking walks a few paces behind and stops as well.

oc Spot Hidden.( everyone)

OC Ick, spot hidden 40, rolled 72

Gudrun stares at the brain matter poking out of Hildegarr's head and tries not to barf up the whale he'd just eaten. Whichever way though, it wasn't sitting well.

"Tell us what you remember Hildegarr! It must be an entertaining story!" He eyes him warily. He knew these words would only wind up annoying him.

spot hidden (1d100=20)

Ingvar recoils in horror at the zombies. "By the gods! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!!!"

He grabs a burning log from the fire and waves it around like a torch. "BACK!! STAY BACK FOUL CORPSES!!" He holds his axe with the other hand and tries to look threatening, but he's too terrified to attack.

"Oddlog... kill it! KILL IT!!!!"

Gaeirmund keeps calm, and is able to noticewhat Gudrun does not.

"Ingvar, stop waving the fire around. We've all seen corpses before. I know I've made a few. Do you think they all want something to drink?"

Despite his attempts at humor, though, he prepares to fight with his hammer and his shield.

Gudrun fails to notice the disfigured Vikings slowly creeping in from behind him. The light of the fire and his preoccupation with Hildegarr, blinds him to the incoming terror.

Both Ingvar and Gaeirmund, however, see the approaching army, twitching and creaking as the ice forms and crumbles in the cold on their sea soaked tattered clothes. There must be 40 or 50 of them. The unsurvivors of the Icebreaker. The dismembered Viking horde stops just shy of the fire light and jerks sporatically with an unbalance saved solely for the undead and the drunk. When they look closely and take in the full horror of it, they seems almost to be forming ranks.

Hildegarr, oblivious to the approaching horde, continues to guzzle the ale before turning to glare at Gudrun. The sound of his neck moving sends shivers down Gudrun's spine as it pops and reinserts itself several times before the motion is completed. He snarls and tries to speak through a mouth filled with blackened blood and dark water.



Odd.....laggle? Ooooooooooodd..... lgkgle....

ooc - Everyone roll Sanity checks 1/1d6+1. If you pass.. post away!

sanity check (1d100=84)
idea roll (1d100=69)

Ingvar twitches at the sight of Viking army. Fortunately his neanderthalic brain cannot comprehend the metaphysical implications.

"Are.. are... you here to kill us Hildegarr?"

OC Failed sanity roll, (66) rolled 86
sanity lost 2, current sanity 64

Gudrun stares, horrified, and then begins to swing his sword wildly at the creatures. His eyes take on the maddened, desperate look of a man in his last hour.

"Get back! Stop right there!"

Gaeirmund laughs with the full fatalism of the Norse.

"Ah, those would be our deaths, I'll wager. I''m not the best with numbers, but I don't need to be to subtract us few from all those and get a lot left over. Gudrun, if you'd stop shouting, they might not wnat to kill us. If they do, which I think they will, then lets make a stand for Valhalla like men."

He looks around to consider a possible escape route.

"But I wouldn't rule out running like dogs just yet."

Gudrun flails wildly and pushes away from Hildegar, but he is too panicked to connect solidly with the zombie. His skin is soft and one of Gudrun’s gloved fingers slides a few inches into the zombie’s chest cavity. He then finds himself moving backwards, towards the fire for safety.

Oddlog falls to his knees, madness clear in his eyes and begins to blubber incoherently at Hildegarr’s feet.



My friend… No! What have they done to you! Those fuckers! Demons! Goat layers! May they rot in Hel!

Hildegarr puts a hand on Oddlog’s face and groans. It’s hard not to wonder if the zombie is attempting to comfort his old friend but his face shows no emotion and he says nothing that might implicate him in such a thing.

Melkorka is now standing closest to Ingvar pressing herself up against his leg as the Viking axeman deals with his own internal turmoil. In all the confusion, the witch begins to slowly grind herself on Ingvar’s leg cooing like a dying chicken.

Then as the moon comes out from behind a dark cloud, illuminating the beach and all it’s monstrosities in tightly formed ranks, the Vikings notice the zombies begin to part as a lone figure moves with purpose through the opening. His movements are nothing like the slow clumsy motions of the Viking zombies. He moves more like a man.

The figure pushes forward through the zombie horde and is almost at the fire.

Out of me way yah rotten brainless bags of blood!

ooc- Gaeirmund looks for an escape route... The zombies have surrounded the south side of the fire but the north side is completely clear. It would be easy to escape to the north if you set your mind to it.

"GET OFF ME YOU FOUL SKANK!!" Ingvar kicks the witch off his leg and charges for Oddlog, "You ugly motherfucker". He grabs his arm and throws it over his shoulder.

Gaeirmund!! Gundhar!!! GET YOUR WEE ASSES TO THE HILLS!!!"
He cleaves Hildegarr across the face hard then charges north dragging Oddlog behind.


attack hildegar (1d100=23)
Damage on hildegarr (1d10=9, 1d6=4)

Gudrun backs up, confused, wiping his finger on his pant leg to get the grime and entrails off. He swings his axe wildly and continues to back away.

"Can't you remember my name??!" He shouts after Ingvar, who's clearly mispronounced his name or is speaking to someone else in his head. Whichever way...no matter....we just have to get out of here!

"No we don't. That corpse moves like it leads the rest. If they wanted to kill us, they would all charge at once. Leaders are for truce-talking and other boring things."

This does not stop Gaeirmund from putting the fire between him and the zombies and trying to stand farthest north of the group, although he does not run yet.

Ingvar slices down on the undead Hildegar’s hand as the Viking zombie fondles Oddlog’s head. He cuts the hand clean from the arm and the zombie doesn’t flinch. Black blood spills onto the snow and he lets out a low glutteral groan



Ennnnnnnngh!

Ingvar pulls Oddlog back and away from the fire. They run for a short distance before realizing that not everyone in the party is following them. Melkorka follows closely behind her chosen ones cackling like a giddy fool.

Tristan and Logain draw their swords and stand close to Gaeirmund behind the fire. Half of the remaining four Vikings follow Ingvar and the rest stay close to the fire, afraid to run off into the surrounding darkness.

The voice bellowing orders for the zombies to part the beach finally closes in on the fire. All are surprised to see their fallen comrade Captain Gunharr. His skin is still quite intact unlike the others and has taken on an eerie shade of blue. He draws a scramasax from his belt and holds the long knife out in front of him pointing it at those Vikings that had not fled into the night.



Which of you dogs will speak with your Captain?

Gaeirmund looks at his fellow Norsemen. He doesn't say a word, but "I told you so," is written all over his craggy face.

"I've always got an ear open for my captain. Though you did give some of these others a bit of a fright-but I'm sure you'll tell us all about it when the time's right. Is Valhalla full?"

Once he's outside of the fire light, Ingvar drops Oddlog in the snow like a wet bag of meat. He cautiously returns at the sound of the Captain's voice, staying in the shadows.
"What devilry is this?" He mumbles quietly, axe drawn.
He keeps his distance from the zombie crowd, and tries to listen to what the Captain's saying.

As Ingvar leaves, he notices Melkokra has a look of terror plastered on her face as she continues to cackly softly into Oddlog’s ear.



Yess Yesss.. See to the Captain Ingvar... I'll tend to Oddlog's mind.

Captain Gunharr, or what used to be Gunharr, looks to Gaeirmund and smiles wide. As long as any of the Vikings aboard the Icebreaker have known the Captain, he has never shown so much emotion.



Good! Now tell me Gaeirmund... Where is the witch Melkorka? And the Bard Alrik? We’ve much to discuss about her plans on Helluland!

OC Sanity passed

Gudrun stands still with his axe at his side, listening to the captain as well. He turns to stare at Gaeirmund, wondering aloud if he knew what the captain had asked him.

He wondered to himself why the captain's skin had turned blue, but shrugged it off just as easily. Many things were strange about this land....least of all a blue faced captain!

Before Gueirmund can answer his estranged Captain, the sound of a Viking horn blares across the plains... echoing from the mountains to the north.

Ingvar is alarmed by the horn, and comes out of the shadows.
"Gunhar! What is that noise? Is it the other ship? Can your zombies fight?"

He catches a glimpse of someone's fleshy innards and backs away in disgust.
"Ewww!!! YOU SICK BASTARDS! Lie in your grave like a normal person! That's so gross."

He backs closer to Gudrun for safety.

"Captain, Melkorka is just back there, somewhere. But what does that sound foretell?"

Gaeirmund does not like the Captain's smile, but can't see the harm in mentioning Melkorka, who could hardly hide for long.

Captain Gunharr looks back to Gueirmund.



That was the Valkyrie's horn lad.... Odin's whore of a daughter Brunhilde blows it when someone truly worthy of Valhalla catches her eye from the walls of Asgard. She'd be blowing something else for this crew then wouldn't she boys?

The zombie hoarde responds with a slow gurgling laughter that seems more forced than roused.



Hannnnnngh Hennnnnnngh! Hannnnnnnngh!

You've all caught the eye of the gods lad and to be sure they're watching with keen interest in everything that moves on Helluland. The walls of Asgard have never been closer. My brush with icy Hel has opened my eyes to many things. Now where's the witch? My master's a bone to pick with that smelly coo-rag!

Ingvar, furthest to the back, turns to see that Melkorka and Oddlog are gone. Their footprints trail off into the night.

Gaeirmund walks back around the fire to see where Melkorka is, and also notices their footprint\s.

(OOC: I guess if Ingvar didn't need a spot hidden roll...)

"THERE SHE GOES!!!" Ingvar says pointing in the direction of the foot prints. "Go club the pastey hag, see if I care."

"Skewer Oddlog while you're at it"

Ingvar grabs Gaeirmund by the arm and waves over Gudrun.
"Gaeirmund, Gudrun.. what the hell? Are we really going to march with this rotting army? I say we head north alone, take the men, the LIVING men, and head north. What say you?"

Captain Gunharr calls out.



After her lads! Bring me Melkorka alive or its back to the depths of Hel for yah!

As Gunharr's undead crew hobbles after Oddlog and the witch, the captain sits down next to the fire.

Aye you could leave Ingvar... or you could listen. Learn what the gods have in store for the lot of you... pending your loyalties of course.

Gunharr reaches over and grabs a piece of meat, smiling uncharacteristicly at Gudrun. He bites into it and in the light of the fire it's impossible to miss the putrid black oil dripping from his mouth.

Gudrun looks nervously between the captain and Ingvar, with his invitation still ringing in his ears. 'Head north...head north.'

"Aye! North! I've seen enough of this to last me a lifetime!"

Captain Gunharr laughs out loud; a long hearty laugh very unlike his former solomn self.

Harr! North it is then Gudrun.. What say the rest of you?

Of all the Vikings left from the Icebreaker

Tristan stands closest to Logain who eyes the captain suspiciously.



What left of Gunharr lies in those eyes, I'll never know, but I've sworn to stand with you Captain and I aim to honor my allegiance lest the walls of Valhalla close themselves to me forevermore.

Broddi stands beside Ingvar.



I'll not walk with the dead. If you keep your wraiths away... I'll follow...

Three of the four remaining Vikings stand behind Logain.

The fourth... A fellow archer draws his scramasax and with fear filled eyes stands behind Gudrun.

Captain Gunharr nods.

Then what shall it be Ingvar? Gaeirmund? There be an unmistakable light surrounding you two... Or darkness... difficult to tell with all this blasted snow. Harr!

SNNUUuuuuCK!!!! HORK!! Ingvar gobs a disgusting glob of nasal shit on the ground in protest.
"I'll walk with the dead when the valkaries come for me, not before!"

Ingvar backs away cautiously, pointing his axe at Gunharr.
"MY CAPTAIN DROWNED IN THE ICY DEPTHS, YOU'RE AN ABOMINATON!!!!"

You three! Gudrun, Broddi, archer, follow me and save your souls from these demons. Gaeirmund, don't be a fool! Come with us!"

"I'll take my leave from you now "Captain"... don't make me cut you down!"

ooc- There are no generic Zombie's here in sight. Just Hildegarr and Captain Gunharr. The rest of the undead went chasing after Melkorka and Oddlog.

Gunharr stands and step towards Ingvar.

Death is just the beginning for us all... Do you think yourself worthy of Odin's Hall Ingvar? You think you've led noble enough a life to deserve a noble afterlife? To die in battle is not good enough contrary to what the Eddas have taught us. Odin is a cruel and selective god. More Vikings than you think freeze in the fires of Hel with nothing to show for their glory. There are other options... other allegiances...

Gunharr removes a pouch from his belt and tosses it to Gaeirmund.

Those that follow me... will be payed in much more than furs and carvings you take from the dead skraelings. I pay in the currency of the gods!

ooc- There are no generic Zombie's here in sight. Just Hildegarr and Captain Gunharr. The rest of the undead went chasing after Melkorka and Oddlog.

Gunharr stands and step towards Ingvar.



Death is just the beginning for us all... Do you think yourself worthy of Odin's Hall Ingvar? You think you've led noble enough a life to deserve an afterlife? Search your souls.... To die in battle is not good enough, contrary to what the Eddas have taught us. Odin is a cruel and selective god. His hall fills each day with our bravest of people... More Vikings than you think freeze in the fires of Hel with nothing to show for their glory. There are other options... other allegiances...

Gunharr removes a pouch from his belt and tosses it to Gaeirmund.

Those that follow me... will be payed in much more than furs and carvings you take from the dead skraelings. I pay in the currency of the gods!

"I don't like to make deals when I don't know what I'm dealing with. I'll listen to you, Captain."
Gaeirmund walks next to Ingvarr.

Gudrun looks uncertainly between the two, and longingly at the bags of coins. He scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully and eyes Gunharr cautiously, sizing him up.

His eyes flicker between Ingvar and Gunharr, then finally he steps forward and fingers the pouch Gaeirmund is holding.

"What do you want from us?" he asks of the captain. "Following is easy.....but what do we have to give up?"

Captain Gunharr moves closer and produces another small leather pouch; tossing it this time to Ingvar.

It's high time you lot learned your true purpose on Helluland. Your King has sent three ships to this barron waste of a Fuck hole..... Do you think your kind actually wishes to colonize this land. There are much greener pastures to the south. No... there is some other method to your king's madness and I have known this all along as have the other ships Captains.

Each ship holds a witch and bard... All that one needs to activate Odin's final rune; that rune which he so greedily kept for himself. Odin's secret is on this island lads and I aim to find it. You walk in the land of Midgard Gudrun and it's mountains are filled with tombs to the gods. The walls of Asagrd itself are close by. I can hear the Fenris Wolf howling for vengeance. I will take you into the mountains and whatever riches you lay your hands on are yours to keep.

Or continue on boys... Wander this frozen rock aimlessly til you find the skraeling blood you seek. But know I can can give you glory enough for Odin's head to turn and take notice that the boys of Gunharr will take their place in Valhalla by force if necessary..

Ingvar tries to snatch the bag of coins away from Gaeirmund (oc. but probably misses if Gaeirmund resists).
snatches bag of gold (1d100=75)

"Hmmph..."

"You better have enough gold for all of us 'Captain'", he says snidely.
"Walking through the icy wastes until we freeze to death doesn't sound like fun... but it's better than being mindless walking corpse, so you better keep your men the hell away from me Gunharr. I don't give two shits about Odin's rune... I want money. Lots and lots of money. And TAIL. LOTS of tail."

Ingvar growls and nods to himself, then looks to the other livng human to see what they will do.

ooc- Captain Gunharr tossed Ingvar a leather pouch.

There's more than that in them mountains Ingvar!

Ingvar opens his pouch and the brilliance of the gems feeds the greed in his heart. The other Vikings begin to gather around Ingvar, gazing with hungry eyes at enough wealth for its owner to easily afford enough land to be considered lord.



Gueirmund's pouch contains similar treasure.

As for the Tail you be requesting! Harr! I think we can work somehting out....

Gudrun's eyes gleam at the money getting tossed around. "Ingvar! You are right to think twice! I want money....and....and tail too!" He smirks shyly, then pats his chest indicating his loyalty, "I will follow you captain! But if I wind up blue in the face.....all bets are off!"

Gaeirmund still looks skeptical.

"Gold is fine and all, but I'm not sure I know what you're telling me. Do you mean we'll win our way into the favors of the gods, or fight them for a spot in Asgard? No amount of gold is worth the wrath of the gods."

Harrrr!

Gunharr laughs and slaps his last remaining zombie follower on the back. Hildegarr caughs up black oil and smiles through stained and broken teeth.


There's no fighting the gods son... We'll leave that to the great Black Wolf and the Ragnarok! There's glory in the mountains Gueirmund... Glory the gods can't ignore! They will have to let us in once we show them what we're made of! Once we have the Rune and the secret! This I promise! Gold, glory and life eternal in the halls of the king!

Gaeirmund grins, relieved.

"Well, if it won't anger the gods, I'll do anything for gold and glory."

Gudrun raises his sword in the air, and grins, revealing a few missing teeth as he does.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRR!"

He slaps his chest in agreement with the Captain.

Ingvar rolls his eyes.

"All right goddammit... we'll follow you Gunharr. But you ain't my captain - and if one of your zombies gets out of line I will split you in two with my cack, got it?"

"Wipe your mouth Hildegarr"

"To the mountains!"

OC
Hey Mi-Go and She Devil -- DSIGFUSS had to send his computer away to be repaired. They told him 2 weeks, but he's hoping to be back on sooner than that. I guess we're on hiatus for a bit. Check back for more exciting barbarism!

All the Vikings take their turn gazing at the pouch of colorful gems; each with a look of greed twinkling in their eye. With Melkorka and Oddlog gone, their numbers have dwindled. Ingvar, Tristan, Logain, Gaeirmund, Gudrun, Broddi and three other Viking oarsman remain.

The men get little sleep through the night with Captain Gunharr and his zombie henchman Hildegarr saying little but keeping a wary watch over the camp. The sun rises and the men head out. Captain Gunharr waits for the men to gather their supplies before addressing them.

We’ll be making a short detour before we head to the mountain boys. There’s something we’ll be needing… and someone!

Gunharr grins and begins to walk ahead of the other Vikings. He jestures for Logain to follow and the two talk awhile on point as Hildegarr lags behind them.

Tristan casts Gaeirmund a sideways glance and takes this first opportunity to speak with the others without Captain Gunharr’s undead ear listening to their every move.



Before this terrible curse befell the Captain, I heard him arguing with the witch of a rune hidden in the mountains. Odin’s rune. That must be what he’s after.

ooc- Roll Viking Mythos or Read/Write Runes. (Whichever is higher)

(Is the 00 for my character a score of zero or one hundred for Viking Mythos? Anyway, Rune Reading at 01 is probably higher.)

Gaeirmund has never heard of Odin's Rune.

"Odin's Rune?" he asks, not wanting to seem ignorant, "why would he be looking for that?"

ooc- I'm going to assume everyone fails the read write runes check. If you pass then you get to add skill points when you reach the next chapter.

Tristan lowers his voice even lower.

Odin' Rune... Long ago, Odin uncovered 18 magical runes. They are source of his power over the gods. Over time he has shared this power to a lesser extent with his people but he kept the eighteenth rune for himslef.

Tristan bows his head and recites a verse from the Eddas. All who hear it, recognize it from their childhood or can recall it sung by bards in Taverns.

An eighteenth I know: which I ne'er shall tell
to maiden or wife of man
save alone to my sister, or haply to her
who folds me fast in her arms;
most safe are secrets known to but one-
the songs are sung to an end.

Ingvar catches up with Hildegarr.

"So you ugly fuck, what's the underworld like? What happened to your buddy, Oddlog? You zombies eat him or what?"

sniff sniff
"God, I thought you smelled like shit when you were alive!" "You smell like shit Hildegar! Rotting shit!"

Hildegarr slowly turns to Ingvar as he follows his blue skinned master. It seems like Hildegarr almost cracks a smile as Ingvar goads him on.



Odddddlgggg! Hengh! Shiiiiiiit! Hennnnngh! Hnnnn!

The Vikings continue their march along the ocean for close to an hour until Logain finally comes running back to the group.



There's a skraeling on the beach. Captain... er Gunharr needs him alive. He says he's important and possesses something... A knife that will lead us into the mountains.. So no killings you skags!

I need Volunteers.

Gudrun peers into the distance curiously. "A knife? How could a knife lead us?" He scratches his head and wrinkles his brow thoughtfully.

Finally he shouts, "I'll go, Captain!" He seems surprisingly excited by this point.

Gaeirmund produces the knife he looted.

"I've already got myself a Skraeling knife, and it doesn't seem to lead anywhere!"

Captain Gunharr smiles at Gaeirmund.

The knife be of the gods lad. From the old days. It's power is linked to these lands. Bring him and the skraeling back to me alive. It seems the scramasax has chosen it's wielder. We'll need him to guide us through the mountains and carry the burden of the blade's power. Quickly before we lose him lads!

"Alright you heard him... Let's go Gudrun, we got dibbs on his food. Who else is coming?"

"Stay here Hildegarr, you smelly dead piece of shit."

Ingvar bolts towards the Eskimo, running low behind a snow bank trying to get close.
"Just in time.. my father's axe grows cold."

As Ingvar, Gudrun, Logain and Gudrun’s archer friend near the top of a snowy hill, two of the surviving oarsman are left behind in the charge as they notice the Eskimo’s sled near the hill’s bottom and stop to loot it.

The sled dogs bark furiously.

Then a lone Eskimo holding a Viking sword in one hand and a scramasax in the other reaches the crest of the hill and is surprised to see the compliment of Vikings bearing down on him. His eyes widen with terror as Captain Gunharr bellows from below.



I need him alive!

Gaeirmund also heads for the Esquimaux.

"We won't hurt ye much if you come with us!" he cries, but he also considers knocking the poor chap out with his hammer, the perfect weapon for the job.

The Skraeling's eyes widen and he quickly sums up the mass of incoming Vikings. Outnumbered, he turns and runs back towards the icy beach.

ooc- roll 1d10 and add your DEX and tell me what you would like to do. The Eskimo is about 15 ft away when he turns to run.

(Not sure if this is really good or really bad).

Gaeirmund tries to use his long hammer to trip the Skraeling into the snow. He figures that once the man is down it should be easy to wrestle him back to the Captain, or even persuade him if that was one's thing.

OC Init rolled a 1...dex is 15....ouch

Gudrun charges after the Eskimo without second thought. It might not have been the wisest move, but he hadn't bothered to think it through. He threw a stone at the man's head, hoping to knock him out, but it missed horribly.

"Logain! Grab him! Bind his legs and wrists!"

OC Throw rolled a 67, throw is 25

oc. initiative is 23 (rolled 9, dex 14) 1d10=9

Ingvar tries to cleave off the eskimo's leg at the knee.

oc. rolled a 39 to strike, 8+4 damage 1d100,1d10,1d6=[39], [8], [4]

Gaeirmund, Ingvar and Logain reach the Skraeling at the bottom of the south side of the long snow drift they had just climbed. Logain dives into the snow at the Eskimos feet as he grapples for a hold on the savage In the heat of the moment, the Skraeling turns and deflects Ingvar's swing. His eyes are focused but still that of the prey. Gaeirmund cannot disern the skraeling's intentions as his hammer bears down on him.

ooc - Need a strike roll Gaeirmund. Also please tell me where you are trying to hit him.

Gaerimund's hammer crashes down on the Skraeling's shoulderand he tumbles to the snow. His Viking sword and shield slide across the ice.

Go to Chapter 4