Stags of the Mountains: You in the A Song of Ice and Fire BROB: With a Bonus!

Brian Boru wrote:

He smiles and shows you the title, "A History of the Wars between the Kingdom of the Rock and the Kingdom of the Reach."  "Just a bit of history lad.  I'm impressed, not many from your walk of life know how to read...then again few lords know their letters all that well either."

"Reading and writing offer too many advantages not to take the time to learn. Frankly those who don't learn if they get the chance are fools in my view. No matter how strong your arm is, the mind will always be deadlier in the long run if you learn to use it."

Brian Boru wrote:A shark-like grin spreads across his face.

Mine too.

"How?  Did you break his arms and legs?"

"Nice friendly chat."

A feast then on the road the next day.

Alright.

As you move through the Riverlands you hear that there is a rumor of wolf men of all things.  Beasts with a man's body but a wolf's head, this strange pack has caused some horrific damage to a few of the more remote villages and people are a bit concerned.  More likely it's that a bandit group wearing wolf skins are the actual culprits but Robert hears it and something sparks in his head, he looks to you and says that this might be a good chance to test to see how well you can protect your people, you've already proven to be a good diplomat and an individual fighter, how are you as a commander, you can summon men and knights from the local area but you'll otherwise be on your own.

Alright. I appoint Dacey and Tyrion to my war council and call up the local knights, men at arms, and any villagers willing to raise spears in defense of their homes.

From there I call all witnesses and maps and I chart out where each attack has taken place and when. Using that I should be able to narrow down the general area they are based from, and using local knowledge get a decent lay of the land.

Basically using supplies stolen vs. time of the attacks along with simple triangulation... we can probably estimate how many there are and the general area they're based.

One resource I tap highly are the local children. Children wander about and play... they know the nooks and carnies that adults will forget.

If these are indeed bandits, they will have a base of operations. Our objective should be to find out where they're nesting and then drive them out.

Basically CSI Westeros.

Silver Sun 17 wrote:"Reading and writing offer too many advantages not to take the time to learn. Frankly those who don't learn if they get the chance are fools in my view. No matter how strong your arm is, the mind will always be deadlier in the long run if you learn to use it."

He laughs at that. "I like you lad, you've a refreshing outlook on life that is so rare outside of the Maesters."

He asks after any particular favorites of yours.

Psyckosama wrote:Mine too.

Heh

"Nice friendly chat."

That must have been some chat.

Alright. I appoint Dacey and Tyrion to my war council and call up the local knights, men at arms, and any villagers willing to raise spears in defense of their homes.

You manage to call up about 10 knights and about 80 or so men-at-arms, the villagers numbers are constantly changing but when they hear the prince is leading this, they jump to serve, maybe a good 200 or so, piss-poor armed but ready to go.

From there I call all witnesses and maps and I chart out where each attack has taken place and when. Using that I should be able to narrow down the general area they are based from, and using local knowledge get a decent lay of the land.

Basically using supplies stolen vs. time of the attacks along with simple triangulation... we can probably estimate how many there are and the general area they're based.

One resource I tap highly are the local children. Children wander about and play... they know the nooks and carnies that adults will forget.

If these are indeed bandits, they will have a base of operations. Our objective should be to find out where they're nesting and then drive them out.

Basically CSI Westeros.

After several days you get a rough idea. There are about 150 of these men, the come at night, usually about 3 in the morning. They constantly howl and they slash and burn and run off with anything that can be carried. Armed with axes, spears and swords. You eventually figure out that all of their attacks are within a 10 mile radius of a fair sized lake with a small island in the center, the thing is, that island is only swamp, you couldn't keep a chicken standing on it without sinking. And there aren't many other locations a band that big could hide.

Brian Boru wrote:That must have been some chat.

"Oh, it was..."

You manage to call up about 10 knights and about 80 or so men-at-arms, the villagers numbers are constantly changing but when they hear the prince is leading this, they jump to serve, maybe a good 200 or so, piss-poor armed but ready to go.

I want those 200 drilled into the ground. Teach them how to march. They don't need to be warriors, just know how to move in formation and strike by the numbers. Soldiers, basically.

I'll keep them busy, keep them focused, keep them from getting bored.

And make sure to tell them that their efforts are valued, for the more valued they feel, the more controllable they'll be and the harder they will fight if they are needed.

After several days you get a rough idea.  There are about 150 of these men, the come at night, usually about 3 in the morning.  They constantly howl and they slash and burn and run off with anything that can be carried.  Armed with axes, spears and swords. You eventually figure out that all of their attacks are within a 10 mile radius of a fair sized lake with a small island in the center, the thing is, that island is only swamp, you couldn't keep a chicken standing on it without sinking.  And there aren't many other locations a band that big could hide.

Then we need to catch them as they sleep. Move silently in the night, boats, slowly moving no light no sound... and then hit them in their beds.

It's not the honorable, knightly way of doing things, but lets be honest, this is not an honorable foe and if they know we were on to them they'd vanish into the woods not to be seen until the next time they burned and pillaged and raped.

I do invite Robert. After all, when was the last time he got a good chance to crack some skulls?

Psyckosama wrote:"Oh, it was..."

He's not going to ask, ignorance is bliss and all that.

I want those 200 drilled into the ground. Teach them how to march. They don't need to be warriors, just know how to move in formation and strike by the numbers. Soldiers, basically.

I'll keep them busy, keep them focused, keep them from getting bored.

And make sure to tell them that their efforts are valued, for the more valued they feel, the more controllable they'll be and the harder they will fight if they are needed.

It'll take about a week before they're considered passable, but you got some warm bodies now, ready and happy to fight.

Then we need to catch them as they sleep. Move silently in the night, boats, slowly moving no light no sound... and then hit them in their beds.

It's not the honorable, knightly way of doing things, but lets be honest, this is not an honorable foe and if they know we were on to them they'd vanish into the woods not to be seen until the next time they burned and pillaged and raped.

I do invite Robert. After all, when was the last time he got a good chance to crack some skulls?

Robert is horribly tempted but no, this is your, test and your time to shine, if he's there, then he'll take the glory whether he want to or not.

It takes several hours once you find the isle, but you manage to slowly work into the muck and to your surprise you find a small rocky hill, solid and jutting out of the lake. You spot a look out, and yes it's a man wearing a wolf cloak, but unless you were right on him you very well might believe that the man had a wolf's head. Despite your best efforts, he spots you and he begins to blow on a cow horn. Waking the entire camp. Who boil onto the rock and begin to hurl missiles at the boats.

Brian Boru wrote:He's not going to ask, ignorance is bliss and all that.

"That's probably for the best."

It'll take about a week before they're considered passable, but you got some warm bodies now, ready and happy to fight.

This is mainly to keep them from being a danger to eachother and to keep them on task. A busy soldier is a happy one.

Robert is horribly tempted but no, this is your, test and your time to shine, if he's there, then he'll take the glory whether he want to or not.

Alright, Da.

It takes several hours once you find the isle, but you manage to slowly work into the muck and to your surprise you find a small rocky hill, solid and jutting out of the lake.  You spot a look out, and yes it's a man wearing a wolf cloak, but unless you were right on him you very well might believe that the man had a wolf's head.  Despite your best efforts, he spots you and he begins to blow on a cow horn.  Waking the entire camp.  Who boil onto the rock and begin to hurl missiles at the boats.

Not even a roll...

Though seriously, we intentionally go by a route that probably is well away from the main route and there's a convenient sentry and they're all up and about in moments? HAX!

I literally leap from the boat and cut the SOB in half. Then I scream to the others "MEN! ON ME!" and charge!

Psyckosama carried out 1 launched of one d100 :

3

Brian Boru wrote:Roll a d100?

After the tournament anyway. Roll in next post.

The first oponnent you see going after to you is a Westerlander, you don't recognize the heraldry but he ain't all that good, you take him down like a chump, then to your consternation you're surrounded by at least three others, apparently they know how dangerous you are and are trying to take you out now.

As you fight them out you see Sandor Clegane riding right for you his dog helm looking demonic and his sword held for the chop.

How do you deal with this considering the three others are still surrounding you.

I use the attackers to my advantage, moving my horse to bull into the closest one - I use my sword to put his weapon out of alignment and use the horses' momentum and my own considerable strength to try and just _punch_ him off his mount with my shield-arm. At the very least, this'll stop him in his tracks. At best, there's now an unattended horse on the field. In either case, as I pass him by I slap his horse's rear with the flat of my sword and add a wordless shout to hopefully send it either rearing up, or running off, distracting/making Sandor or one of the others veer off. This gives me away out of the encirclement.

Movement and confusion are my friend, and other combatants aren't just enemies - they're obstructions and cover I can make use of. So I keep moving, engage the next closest one and while my sword keeps him busy for the initial exchange I tap his horse on the head with my shield-arm. How hard depends on whether it's got armor or not, and I don't want to kill it, I want to knock it loopy.

If all that works, I've been using the other attackers as barriers between Sandor any myself for long enough, and if I've managed to dispatch two then the third I simply take down as quickly as I possibly can before _finally_ engaging the Hound. Who I imagine will be quite frustrated at this point.

The member 'Rieverre' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd100' : 8

Brian Boru wrote:

He laughs at that. "I like you lad, you've a refreshing outlook on life that is so rare outside of the Maesters."

He asks after any particular favorites of yours.

"Engineering texts, Tomes containing old tales, you can use those to understand how people thought back when the stories were made, little bit of history though that's mostly military history for practical reasons."

Psyckosama wrote:"That's probably for the best."

Heh

This is mainly to keep them from being a danger to eachother and to keep them on task. A busy soldier is a happy one.

Clever....

Alright, Da.

kool.

Not even a roll...

Though seriously, we intentionally go by a route that probably is well away from the main route and there's a convenient sentry and they're all up and about in moments? HAX!

Gotta make it hard somehow.

I literally leap from the boat and cut the SOB in half. Then I scream to the others "MEN! ON ME!" and charge!

3

Anyway the attack goes without a hitch, despite losing the element of surprise, you manage to swarm over the wolf-men and slaughter then to a man with only a few injured small folk volunteers for your troubles.

Examining the rock, you find huge stores of gold and other valuables that had been lifted from the surrounding area.

Amazingly at the center of the rock, you find an old Weirwood, carved face and large, nothing compared to Winterfell's but big never the less.

Rieverre wrote:After the tournament anyway. Roll in next post.

Kool.

I use the attackers to my advantage, moving my horse to bull into the closest one - I use my sword to put his weapon out of alignment and use the horses' momentum and my own considerable strength to try and just _punch_ him off his mount with my shield-arm. At the very least, this'll stop him in his tracks. At best, there's now an unattended horse on the field. In either case, as I pass him by I slap his horse's rear with the flat of my sword and add a wordless shout to hopefully send it either rearing up, or running off, distracting/making Sandor or one of the others veer off. This gives me away out of the encirclement.

Movement and confusion are my friend, and other combatants aren't just enemies - they're obstructions and cover I can make use of. So I keep moving, engage the next closest one and while my sword keeps him busy for the initial exchange I tap his horse on the head with my shield-arm. How hard depends on whether it's got armor or not, and I don't want to kill it, I want to knock it loopy.

If all that works, I've been using the other attackers as barriers between Sandor any myself for long enough, and if I've managed to dispatch two then the third I simply take down as quickly as I possibly can before _finally_ engaging the Hound. Who I imagine will be quite frustrated at this point.

Astoundingly this works amazingly well, one knight goes down, then his horse starts a fight with Clegane's, then the 2nd then the third are taken out of the fight in the confusion.

Finally you're mono-y-mono with the big hound. He's outraged to be perfectly frank. Roll a d100.

8

Well you don't start looking until after the tourney but you do manage to scrounge up a good deal right near the gate you're looking to be a part of the guard detail for.

Silver Sun 17 wrote:"Engineering texts, Tomes containing old tales, you can use those to understand how people thought back when the stories were made, little bit of history though that's mostly military history for practical reasons."

He grins, impressed, "And the Maesters would have been honored to have your from the sound of it lad." He's honestly impressed now. Though he is curious about what you plan to do with that knowledge.

Brian Boru wrote:Clever....

Thank you. I believe so.

Gotta make it hard somehow.

That makes sense maybe? :p

That's what I said. I mean... Wha? Why didn't I get rolls like this when I played WFRP?

Anyway the attack goes without a hitch, despite losing the element of surprise, you manage to swarm over the wolf-men and slaughter then to a man with only a few injured small folk volunteers for your troubles.  

Good.

Examining the rock, you find huge stores of gold and other valuables that had been lifted from the surrounding area.

I want these belongings returned to their original owners when possible. This isn't a bounty to be had, these are goods stolen from these very peoples and they deserve to have what is theirs returned. In the case the owners are dead or not in the area (traveling merchants and the like) we give it to the small folk.

In private if the knights have a problem I explain that this influx of returned wealth will cause a small economic spike in trade of goods which of course is all taxable. Rich small folk make for rich lords. Plus happy peasants are cooperative and not rebelling peasants.

Amazingly at the center of the rock, you find an old Weirwood, carved face and large, nothing compared to Winterfell's but big never the less.

I order that this Godswood be kept up, the tree be tended, and that the proper rituals be observed.

The bodies and evidence of their doings are to be removed. This is a holy place and they were defiling it.

Any survivors are sent to the Wall.

Brian Boru wrote:

He grins, impressed, "And the Maesters would have been honored to have your from the sound of it lad."  He's honestly impressed now.  Though he is curious about what you plan to do with that knowledge.

"The engineering texts are tied to a business venture I'm doing to some meetings for after the tourney. the old tales are out of curiosity and the military history is in hopes of letting me do my duties better."

Brian Boru wrote:Finally you're mono-y-mono with the big hound.  He's outraged to be perfectly frank.  Roll a d100.

More or less as expected then. We've both taken one-another's measure in the joust, so this ought to be interesting enough ... though given who his paymasters are he's likely trying to kill me. Oh well. I meet him in a clash of metal.

Well you don't start looking until after the tourney but you do manage to scrounge up a good deal right near the gate you're looking to be a part of the guard detail for.

Shiny. Will check that out later.

The member 'Rieverre' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd100' : 67

Psyckosama wrote:Thank you. I believe so.

Heh

That makes sense maybe? :p

Do you know how much shit has been stupendously going your way man? Dammit you're supposed to be Reek Mk. 2 right now!

That's what I said. I mean... Wha? Why didn't I get rolls like this when I played WFRP?

The dice gods are fickle.

Good.

Indeed.

I want these belongings returned to their original owners when possible. This isn't a bounty to be had, these are goods stolen from these very peoples and they deserve to have what is theirs returned. In the case the owners are dead or not in the area (traveling merchants and the like) we give it to the small folk.

They thank you profusely and they're singing your praises as you leave.

In private if the knights have a problem I explain that this influx of returned wealth will cause a small economic spike in trade of goods which of course is all taxable. Rich small folk make for rich lords. Plus happy peasants are cooperative and not rebelling peasants.

After the stupendously succesful raid...no they keep their traps shut.

I order that this Godswood be kept up, the tree be tended, and that the proper rituals be observed.

The bodies and evidence of their doings are to be removed. This is a holy place and they were defiling it.

This is quickly done and the locals promise to maintain the tree in perpetuate.

Any survivors are sent to the Wall.

None.

With that finished and Robert beyond impressed with the success of the bandit clearing the procession heads onward to Riverrun.

Roll a d100.

Silver Sun 17 wrote:"The engineering texts are tied to a business venture I'm doing to some meetings for after the tourney. the old tales are out of curiosity and the military history is in hopes of letting me do my duties better."

Now he's curious, you're only 14 a bit young for such lofty goals, most lads you're age are...to put it bluntly, walking hardons who think of nothing but adventure and girls.

Rieverre wrote:More or less as expected then. We've both taken one-another's measure in the joust, so this ought to be interesting enough ... though given who his paymasters are he's likely trying to kill me. Oh well. I meet him in a clash of metal.

67

Well the first exchanges are in his favor, big, strong, fast and skilled for your age or not, Sandor is still bigger, strong, has years of experience, and has a terrifying killer instinct, not the psychoticness of his brother, but he is still an extremely aggressive man. And he's got you on the retreat, unable to respond except to parry, block or dodge his blows, that last one nearly took your horses head.

What do you try now? Roll a d100 for success.

Shiny. Will check that out later.

Alright.

Brian Boru wrote:Do you know how much shit has been stupendously going your way man?  Dammit you're supposed to be Reek Mk. 2 right now!

Oh, I am am I? :p

The dice gods are fickle.

No shit.

They thank you profusely and they're singing your praises as you leave.

I'm polite and mild mannered in my victory.

After the stupendously succesful raid...no they keep their traps shut.

I do personally fund a simple but tasty and creative feast.

Much of it using recipes I've "imported" from our world. Hell, I break out a new invention for this one... NOODLES!

BEHOLD THE FUTURE AND IT IS PASTA!

This is quickly done and the locals promise to maintain the tree in perpetuate.

"Thank you."

With that finished and Robert beyond impressed with the success of the bandit clearing the procession heads onward to Riverrun.

"I hope I did you proud.

Roll a d100.

Psyckosama carried out 1 launched of one d100 :

99

Brian Boru wrote:

Now he's curious, you're only 14 a bit young for such lofty goals, most lads you're age are...to put it bluntly, walking hardons who think of nothing but adventure and girls.

"Considering the circumstances of my birth, if i want to have much success i have to out do my age group by a large degree. I don't have time to be a dumbass who leads with his dick rather then his head. Also i get randomly struck by ideas that range from extremely useful to incredibly stupid." I pull a throwing spike out and idly play with it while i wait for his reply.

Psyckosama wrote:Oh, I am am I? :p

It IS game of Thrones is it not?

I'm polite and mild mannered in my victory.

Makes it even worse.

I do personally fund a simple but tasty and creative feast.

Much of it using recipes I've "imported" from our world. Hell, I break out a new invention for this one... NOODLES!

BEHOLD THE FUTURE AND IT IS PASTA!

They take warmly to the food, and they...try the stuff, some like, some don't. They'll remember the food when they want to do something unique.

"Thank you."

Least they could do.

"I hop e I did you proud.

"Very, very proud son. You'll make a battle commander of song some day."

99

Slasher grin.

Ooooooooooooohhhhh......heh heh heh......


The final leg of the treck to Riverrun began normally enough. Then about three days after the battle of the Wolf Rock, strange things began to happen. Wolves are incredibly common in the North, and even in the Riverlands you can hear them from time to time. But every night your camp is serenaded by wolves, dozens of them, possibly even hundreds, but you've never heard of wolves congregating in such numbers but here you are. As the days go by other signs of wolves begin to appear, spoor, tracks, you constantly hear rustling in the scrub, but every force to chase them off comes up with nothing, they never see the beasts. The horses, more sensitive, are constantly nervous, breaking into sweats, going off feed, the stress even outright killing one or two of them. And the howling, 5 days into the trek, now never stops at any hour of the day or night. You're camping near the edge of a large forest called the Whispering wood , the howling is now so loud that it is hard to think and everyone is looking bloodshot and haggard.

Then at around 3 in the morning, right when you thought a guardsman was going to snap and start stabbing people, the howling utterly stops dead, perfect silence that is now deafening and utterly horrible in ways the noise never was. Then the silence is broken by every horse in the camp screaming in pain and terror. Every single one of them was covered in wolves, at least 4 for each of them and before anyone can rush to give aid the horses all drop dead from the wounds the wolves give them.

With the horses dead, the wolves, at least 50 of them suddenly as one turn their bloody heads to look at you, their eyes glowing a horrific red that promises blood and death.

Then the wolves charge, all 50 of them, men grab their weapons and make to fight them off, then new howls sudden;y appear from a different direction. Another 100 wolves were bounding for the men, seeming to act like a hammer to the horse killer's anvil. And with them just sitting there, they might as well be metal being forged.

The camp makes a ferocious fight and Robert fights harder than any other, but finally he roars, "To the woods, we can make a stand there." He then begins pulling back to no the forest. His hammer flicking out for anything canine and wild looking it came across. Others begin to follow suit.

Brian Boru wrote:It IS game of Thrones is it not?

Yeah, but is my name isn't "Stark".

Makes it even worse.

Heh.

They take warmly to the food, and they...try the stuff, some like, some don't.  They'll remember the food when they want to do something unique.

I do point out how easily it is stored and cooked and share the secrets to its make.

Least they could do.

Still, I'm nice about it

"Very, very proud son.  You'll make a battle commander of song some day."

Thank you.

Slasher grin.

Ooooooooooooohhhhh......heh heh heh......

I know, you've been waiting for this...

The final leg of the treck to Riverrun began normally enough.  Then about three days after the battle of the Wolf Rock, strange things began to happen.  Wolves are incredibly common in the North, and even in the Riverlands you can hear them from time to time.  But every night your camp is serenaded by wolves, dozens of them, possibly even hundreds, but you've never heard of wolves congregating in such numbers but here you are.  As the days go by other signs of wolves begin to appear, spoor, tracks, you constantly hear rustling in the scrub, but every force to chase them off comes up with nothing, they never see the beasts.  The horses, more sensitive, are constantly nervous, breaking into sweats, going off feed, the stress even outright killing one or two of them.  And the howling, 5 days into the trek, now never stops at any hour of the day or night.  You're camping near the edge of a large forest called the Whispering wood , the howling is now so loud that it is hard to think and everyone is looking bloodshot and haggard.

They were fucking Skin Changers, weren't they?

Yeah, we're not dealing with regular wolves... and in private I share my suspicions.

Then at around 3 in the morning, right when you thought a guardsman was going to snap and start stabbing people, the howling utterly stops dead, perfect silence that is now deafening and utterly horrible in ways the noise never was.   Then the silence is broken by every horse in the camp screaming in pain and terror.  Every single one of them was covered in wolves, at least 4 for each of them and before anyone can rush to give aid the horses all drop dead from the wounds the wolves give them.

Yeah. Skin Changers!

With the horses dead, the wolves, at least 50 of them suddenly as one turn their bloody heads to look at you, their eyes glowing a horrific red that promises blood and death.

Blades out, KILL KILL!

Then the wolves charge, all 50 of them, men grab their weapons and make to fight them off, then new howls sudden;y appear from a different direction.  Another 100 wolves were bounding for the men, seeming to act like a hammer to the horse killer's anvil.  And with them just sitting there, they might as well be metal being forged.

The camp makes a ferocious fight and Robert fights harder than any other, but finally he roars, "To the woods, we can make a stand there."  He then begins pulling back to no the forest.  His hammer flicking out for anything canine and wild looking it came across.  Others begin to follow suit.

I look at him and in a low voice next to him say, "Father, if we head too deeply into the woods we will become lost and the trees will give them cover and break up our coherency. If we stay out in the open we should be able to form a circle of arms and men."

If given a chance to say so without being disrespectful, we need to pull back to as open ground as we can find, form a ring, and in the morning do a forced march to the closest town, castle, or garrison which from the map seems to be river run itself.

Brian Boru wrote:Well the first exchanges are in his favor, big, strong, fast and skilled for your age or not, Sandor is still bigger, strong, has years of experience, and has a terrifying killer instinct, not the psychoticness of his brother, but he is still an extremely aggressive man.  And he's got you on the retreat, unable to respond except to parry, block or dodge his blows, that last one nearly took your horses head.

Oh, that's an option then? Good to know. And now that he's used it first, well ... I have an excuse. Someone with his kind of experience won't really let me lure him into putting himself off balance, at least not easily, so I keep up my defense and guide my horse closer to his offhand-side. He's not going to want that to happen, since it'll limit the amount of options for attacking he'll have, so hopefully he'll sacrifice engagement range and bull into my horse's flank to stop from getting locked up in wheeling. Once he does that, fuck it, I make use of my lower center of gravity (he is bigger at this point. That's not always an advantage.) and his shortened force of swing to try and knock him out of position a bit and give myself the room I need to slam my shield's edge down on top of his horse's head/neck.

The member 'Rieverre' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd100' : 65

Silver Sun 17 wrote:"Considering the circumstances of my birth, if i want to have much success i have to out do my age group by a large degree. I don't have time to be a dumbass who leads with his dick rather then his head. Also i get randomly struck by ideas that range from extremely useful to incredibly stupid." I pull a throwing spike out and idly play with it while i wait for his reply.

He's silent for a while, honestly at a loss for words. Then he finally says, "They say that bastards grow up faster than others, and seeing my own predicament, I can see that myself." He then turns to other things like how you're taking to King's Landing and what you're expecting in the tournament.

Psyckosama wrote:Yeah, but is my name isn't "Stark".

Heh

I do point out how easily it is stored and cooked and share the secrets to its make.

A few more eyes spark in interest.

Still, I'm nice about it

Smart move.

I know, you've been waiting for this...

Yessssssssssssssssss................

They were fucking Skin Changers, weren't they?

...well....

Yeah, we're not dealing with regular wolves... and in private I share my suspicions.

Most snort, skinchangers are only folklore and old wives tales and obscure ones at that. But all the howling....their eyes constantly slide to the woods and they clutch their pendants to the 7.

Yeah. Skin Changers!

Yup.

Blades out, KILL KILL!

Heh

I look at him and in a low voice next to him say, "Father, if we head too deeply into the woods we will become lost and the trees will give them cover and break up our coherency. If we stay out in the open we should be able to form a circle of arms and men."

If given a chance to say so without being disrespectful, we need to pull back to as open ground as we can find, form a ring, and in the morning do a forced march to the closest town, castle, or garrison which from the map seems to be river run itself.

Robert stares at you for a moment, then he grabs the wineskin he'd been holding before the attack and hurls it at the wolf pack, striking one on the nose. "Fucking wine...no wonder she'd pulled the wool over my fucking eyes for so long." Then he roars again, "FORGET THAT LAST ORDER, FORM UP! TIGHT FORMATION! WE'RE GOING TO MAKE FOR RIVERRUN!"

And so begins the long march to Riverrun, this close to the Whispering Wood, there are no other villages or Holdfasts from here to the center of the Riverlands. So you're band of 40 or so fighting men and woman, begins a fighting retreat along scrubby border fields, swamps, rivers, streams, and smalls copses of trees. For three long days and nights. The wolves never stop their attacks constantly testing the impromptu wall of weapons and shields, a fair number were killed but they still grossly outnumber your band. And constantly harry you, never giving you more than a few minutes of rest before it begins again.

Roll a d40 (or closest equivalent)

Eventually...after the three most horrifying days and nights of your life you're within sight of Riverrun, they haven't spotted you yet, but some of your survivors are begin to crack and try to make a run for it solo.

How do you deal with that?

Rieverre wrote:Oh, that's an option then? Good to know. And now that he's used it first, well ... I have an excuse. Someone with his kind of experience won't really let me lure him into putting himself off balance, at least not easily, so I keep up my defense and guide my horse closer to his offhand-side. He's not going to want that to happen, since it'll limit the amount of options for attacking he'll have, so hopefully he'll sacrifice engagement range and bull into my horse's flank to stop from getting locked up in wheeling. Once he does that, fuck it, I make use of my lower center of gravity (he is bigger at this point. That's not always an advantage.) and his shortened force of swing to try and knock him out of position a bit and give myself the room I need to slam my shield's edge down on top of his horse's head/neck.

65

The plan seems to work...until you make your move against the man's horse, the horse, a big, black and uncut stallion, with speed you've never seen a horse ever manage before, swerves out of the way with only a slight nick on the side his neck for your troubles.

All it does to the horse is madden it and...if anything...makes it so mean that you're not sure which is more dangerous, the knight or the horse?

The man's eyes turn cold as ice, but before he can go back into the attack, a howl from at least three men come right at you, among them is Thoros of Myr, his blazing sword burning in the air. Sandor takes one look and breaks off from you to find someone else to fight, deciding to look for a different opponent. Thoros and the others with him are still heading right at you.

Brian Boru wrote:
He's silent for a while, honestly at a loss for words.  Then he finally says, "They say that bastards grow up faster than others, and seeing my own predicament, I can see that myself."

"To Dwarfs and Bastards, my those that oppose us keep underestimating us."

 He then turns to other things like how you're taking to King's Landing and what you're expecting in the tournament.

"King's land has been an experience even if i haven't seen much. the events in this city can resonate and effect the far corners of continent. As for the Tournament I'm likely to do well in melees and in single combat, jousting is the area that I'm most worried about."

Brian Boru wrote:A few more eyes spark in interest.

Great for armies on the march or men at sea. Unlike carrying flour for bread, which needs prep baking, all you need to do with pasta is throw it in some boiling water... and it takes far less fuel to boil some water than to light a baking oven...

Hell, you could cook it in a footman's helm if you needed to, as long as you removed the liner.

Most snort, skinchangers are only folklore and old wives tales and obscure ones at that.  But all the howling....their eyes constantly slide to the woods and they clutch their pendants to the 7.

"As are dragons, giants, and the children of the forest, right? Just because something is uncommon in this age, does not mean it was always so." I heft one of my axes, "I seem to have a charm for attracting beings of lore and yore, for better and worse."

I then add after a moment, "Just be glad its not winter. Knowing my luck one of the Others would be walking over on yonder hill."

Robert stares at you for a moment, then he grabs the wineskin he'd been holding before the attack and hurls it at the wolf pack, striking one on the nose.  "Fucking wine...no wonder she'd pulled the wool over my fucking eyes for so long."  Then he roars again, "FORGET THAT LAST ORDER, FORM UP!  TIGHT FORMATION!  WE'RE GOING TO MAKE FOR RIVERRUN!"

"Too much of a good thing can become a poison," I observe calmly."

And so begins the long march to Riverrun, this close to the Whispering Wood, there are no other villages or Holdfasts from here to the center of the Riverlands.  So you're band of 40 or so fighting men and woman, begins a fighting retreat along scrubby border fields, swamps, rivers, streams, and smalls copses of trees.  For three long days and nights.  The wolves never stop their attacks constantly testing the impromptu wall of weapons and shields, a fair number were killed but they still grossly outnumber your band. And constantly harry you, never giving you more than a few minutes of rest before it begins again.

Well, as soon as I can I strap Tyrion to my back. He physically can't walk this, his weak legs will now allow it, and I will not leave him behind. Sometimes you have to let someone carry your burdens.

Roll a d40 (or closest equivalent)

Psyckosama carried out 1 launched of one d20 :

8

Eventually...after the three most horrifying days and nights of your life you're within sight of Riverrun, they haven't spotted you yet, but some of your survivors are begin to crack and try to make a run for it solo.  

How do you deal with that?

"HOLD STRONG!"

"Father, the hunting horn! Sound an alarm. We're within earshot of Riverrun. We can summon aid."

Brian Boru wrote:The plan seems to work...until you make your move against the man's horse, the horse, a big, black and uncut stallion, with speed you've never seen a horse ever manage before, swerves out of the way with only a slight nick on the side his neck for your troubles.

All it does to the horse is madden it and...if anything...makes it so mean that you're not sure which is more dangerous, the knight or the horse?

The man's eyes turn cold as ice, but before he can go back into the attack, a howl from at least three men come right at you, among them is Thoros of Myr, his blazing sword burning in the air.  Sandor takes one look and breaks off from you to find someone else to fight, deciding to look for a different opponent.  Thoros and the others with him are still heading right at you.

Lovely double-standard there Sandy. It's okay when you do it, but the moment someone else attacks your horse it's suddenly not.

Well, we can finish the dance later, if I make it past this anyway. Thoros ... might be an issue, especially if fire is as fire does and spooks his opponents' horses. Beyond that, if that's wildfire, prolonged contact will soften steel. Granted, I've got my buckler and 'old' sword strapped to my saddle as well, because it's nice to have spares and all, but I'd prefer not to have to use them.

As the philosopher Jagger once said, you can't always get what you want.

Might as well hedge my bets a little here, though. I take care of the other two the same way I did the group from before - if Thoros is leading the charge, I dart my horse off to the side and past him at one of the others, using his bulk and horse as cover while I dismantle him and move on. Same with the next one.

Against Thoros though ...

Thoros of Myr. Red priest of R'hllor.

My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare. Odd. I wasn't nearly this angry when going up against Sandor who clearly wanted me dead, but now my blood's up and I glare at the man with ALL OF MY FURY. A flaming sword is nice and all, the part of me that remains calculating remarks, but it comes with its own set of drawbacks. If we were on the ground and the horses were not a factor, I'd just wade in there and Halbschwert him down in close enough quarters as to make the fire more of a liability. As it is, I'll approach from the off-hand side, not slow down, and cut/slam my shield at him in passing. That keeps the fire as far away from my horse as I can feasibly get it, for a limited amount of time too.

Silver Sun 17 wrote:"To Dwarfs and Bastards, my those that oppose us keep underestimating us."

He raises a cup and says he can toast to that.

"King's land has been an experience even if i haven't seen much. the events in this city can resonate and effect the far corners of continent. As for the Tournament I'm likely to do well in melees and in single combat, jousting is the area that I'm most worried about."

He grins, a bit different than the Gates of the Moon isn’t lad. While not the middle of nowhere it just isn’t like the capital is it?

As for your confidence he agrees that if how you fought against his brother is any proof than the melee shouldn’t be much trouble.

Psyckosama wrote:Great for armies on the march or men at sea. Unlike carrying flour for bread, which needs prep baking, all you need to do with pasta is throw it in some boiling water... and it takes far less fuel to boil some water than to light a baking oven...

Hell, you could cook it in a footman's helm if you needed to, as long as you removed the liner.

More sparked interest.

"As are dragons, giants, and the children of the forest, right? Just because something is uncommon in this age, does not mean it was always so." I heft one of my axes, "I seem to have a charm for attracting beings of lore and yore, for better and worse."

They take one long look...and begin praying harder.

I then add after a moment, "Just be glad its not winter. Knowing my luck one of the Others would be walking over on yonder hill."

THEN DON’T JINX IT! They seem to want to scream.

"Too much of a good thing can become a poison," I observe calmly."

Snort but no comment.

Well, as soon as I can I strap Tyrion to my back. He physically can't walk this, his weak legs will now allow it, and I will not leave him behind. Sometimes you have to let someone carry your burdens.

Normally he’d complain...but considering the circumstances….

8

As you fight your way to Riverrun, you lose a total of 8 of your companions, young free riders who’d come to show their crown prince their martial skill and the hope of gaining glory, fame, and riches. Instead they get separated from the group, either by tripping, collapsing from exhaustion, or grabbed by three or four wolves, either way, they’re all then dragged into the trees, screaming in agony until being suddenly cut off with the finality of a knife.

"HOLD STRONG!"

Most of them do but two young crofter boys crack and run for it to Riverrun, 10 wolves each descend on them and they vanish in a flurry of tooth, fur, and claw, mutilated, unrecognizable corpses are all that are left when the wolves break away.

"Father, the hunting horn! Sound an alarm. We're within earshot of Riverrun. We can summon aid."

Robert then takes his hunting horn, licking his cracked lips, takes a deep breath, then blows a huge call that you’re sure they heard in Sunspear. With that you see Riverrun explode into action, a flurry of knights and other troops erupt from the castle when they see that the king is in trouble. When the wolves notice this, they as one slink off. Disappeared LONG before the Riverrunners, led by old Hoster Tully manage to reach you. “Your Grace! My Lord Prince! Are you alright?”

The gimlet glare Robert gives Hoster could have dissolved titanium.

Rieverre wrote:Lovely double-standard there Sandy. It's okay when you do it, but the moment someone else attacks your horse it's suddenly not.

Well technically neither of your are supposed to do that.

Well, we can finish the dance later, if I make it past this anyway. Thoros ... might be an issue, especially if fire is as fire does and spooks his opponents' horses. Beyond that, if that's wildfire, prolonged contact will soften steel. Granted, I've got my buckler and 'old' sword strapped to my saddle as well, because it's nice to have spares and all, but I'd prefer not to have to use them.

As the philosopher Jagger once said, you can't always get what you want.

Heh

Might as well hedge my bets a little here, though. I take care of the other two the same way I did the group from before - if Thoros is leading the charge, I dart my horse off to the side and past him at one of the others, using his bulk and horse as cover while I dismantle him and move on. Same with the next one.

He was leading and is a little surprised how you manage to side step him and knock out both of the other riders from this little fight. He’s now getting a hair nervous, even with his fire sword though you think the thing is looking a bit...warped at the moment.

Against Thoros though ...

Thoros of Myr. Red priest of R'hllor.

My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare. Odd. I wasn't nearly this angry when going up against Sandor who clearly wanted me dead, but now my blood's up and I glare at the man with ALL OF MY FURY. A flaming sword is nice and all, the part of me that remains calculating remarks, but it comes with its own set of drawbacks. If we were on the ground and the horses were not a factor, I'd just wade in there and Halbschwert him down in close enough quarters as to make the fire more of a liability. As it is, I'll approach from the off-hand side, not slow down, and cut/slam my shield at him in passing. That keeps the fire as far away from my horse as I can feasibly get it, for a limited amount of time too.

Roll a d100 for how well the horse takes it.

Brian Boru wrote:More sparked interest.

I let it sink in.

They take one long look...and begin praying harder.

I nod.

THEN DON’T JINX IT!  They seem to want to scream.

"Wrong season," I point out.

Snort but no comment.

I let it sit.

Normally he’d complain...but considering the circumstances….

"Don't worry, friend, this never will be spoken of."

As you fight your way to Riverrun, you lose a total of 8 of your companions, young free riders who’d come to show their crown prince their martial skill and the hope of gaining glory, fame, and riches.  Instead they get separated from the group, either by tripping, collapsing from exhaustion, or grabbed by three or four wolves, either way, they’re all then dragged into the trees, screaming in agony until being suddenly cut off with the finality of a knife.

I'm furious. Beyond furious. They WILL be avenged.

And any of thier surviving kin will be sent gold, and a monument will be erected in their honor. I don't forget.

Most of them do but two young crofter boys crack and run for it to Riverrun, 10 wolves each descend on them and they vanish in a flurry of tooth, fur, and claw, mutilated, unrecognizable corpses are all that are left when the wolves break away.

"BLOODY FOOLS! NO!"

Robert then takes his hunting horn, licking his cracked lips, takes a deep breath, then blows a huge call that you’re sure they heard in Sunspear.  With that you see Riverrun explode into action, a flurry of knights and other troops erupt from the castle when they see that the king is in trouble.  When the wolves notice this, they as one slink off.  Disappeared LONG before the Riverrunners, led by old Hoster Tully manage to reach you.  “Your Grace!  My Lord Prince!  Are you alright?”

The gimlet glare Robert gives Hoster could have dissolved titanium.

I look at Robert and if he doesn't seem to be on task for an immediate reply, I look at him and say, "Lord Tully. For the past three days we have been forced to march across this bloody wood, on foot, without rest, with those bloody hounds of hell nipping on our heels, who managed to take ten of our number. Right now I think I can speak for everyone here, including my father, when I say we want a large meal, a warm bed, a hot bath, a measter to tend our wounds and blisters... and no, bloody questions until we've had a chance to set ourselves right."

At that point I cut Tyrion loose from my back, and mutter to all around, "No one speaks of this..."

I then mutter to Dacey, "I take you all of the nicest places don't I..."

It's self-depredicative.

"I don't know about you but I just want to get in a bed, with you, curl up, and sleep for the next month and a half."

Psyckosama wrote:I let it sink in.

Nothing immediate but you might have a different diet for men on the march in this part of the riverlands.

"Wrong season," I point out.

Heh and with your luck....it'd end up being the Summer that never ends....dammit....

"Don't worry, friend, this never will be spoken of."

"Less talking, more fighting and running!"

I'm furious. Beyond furious. They WILL be avenged.

And any of thier surviving kin will be sent gold, and a monument will be erected in their honor. I don't forget.

Indeed.

"BLOODY FOOLS! NO!"

A bit too late but the survivors tighten ranks even further.

I look at Robert and if he doesn't seem to be on task for an immediate reply, I look at him and say, "Lord Tully. For the past three days we have been forced to march across this bloody wood, on foot, without rest, with those bloody hounds of hell nipping on our heels, who managed to take ten of our number. Right now I think I can speak for everyone here, including my father, when I say we want a large meal, a warm bed, a hot bath, a measter to tend our wounds and blisters... and no, bloody questions until we've had a chance to set ourselves right."

Hoster quickly bows his head and all but carries your party back into Riverrun, the entire group given the best care possible.

At that point I cut Tyrion loose from my back, and mutter to all around, "No one speaks of this..."

"Like it never happened.

I then mutter to Dacey, "I take you all of the nicest places don't I..."

It's self-depredicative.

"To be fair, there was no way in hell you could have expected or planned for something that horrible and insane." She doesn't seem to hold too much of a grudge, though she does ask that you hold her tonight. Nothing else, just hold her.

"I don't know about you but I just want to get in a bed, with you, curl up, and sleep for the next month and a half."

Most agree wholeheartedly, when Hoster mentions the word wine...Robert's gimlet glare is ten times as intense as when he was out in the fields.

Brian Boru wrote:Nothing immediate but you might have a different diet for men on the march in this part of the riverlands.

Heh. YES! The world needs moar pasta!

Heh and with your luck....it'd end up being the Summer that never ends....dammit....

Would be nice.

"Less talking, more fighting and running!"

"I know. Here."

I hand him a short sword. "Gover

Note, I made sure to grab my most important items.

A bit too late but the survivors tighten ranks even further.

I turn red with rage.

Hoster quickly bows his head and all but carries your party back into Riverrun, the entire group given the best care possible.

I probably eat half an ox before wiping off the muck and passing out in bed, spooning with Dacey.

"Like it never happened."

I give everyone a glare to reenforce Tyrion's order. "You've heard my steward."

"To be fair, there was no way in hell you could have expected or planned for something that horrible and insane."  She doesn't seem to hold too much of a grudge, though she does ask that you hold her tonight.  Nothing else, just hold her.

An arm goes around her.

"That was the plan. That was the plan..."

At this point I'm sure we're propping each other up.

Most agree wholeheartedly, when Hoster mentions the word wine...Robert's gimlet glare is ten times as intense as when he was out in the fields.  

I put a hand on Robert's shoulder. "Lets just get some rest."

So, next morning... two days later... once we recover?

What goes on?

Brian Boru wrote:Well technically neither of your are supposed to do that.

And yet here we are. And there Thoros is, with a flaming sword. If that's not playing fast and loose with what we're supposed to do, I don't know what is.

He was leading and is a little surprised how you manage to side step him and knock out both of the other riders from this little fight.  He’s now getting a hair nervous, even with his fire sword though you think the thing is looking a bit...warped at the moment.

In which case, ideally, if I can't finish him fast, circling and harassing until his sword is slag might well be a good tactic to use.

Roll a d100 for how well the horse takes it.

... yyeah, I can't see this going badly. At all. *glares at dice*