Kora, the man in front of you spits onto the sand and waves for his companion to put away his knife. There is a crowd gathering now, brought in by the shouting of Halp and your own performance challenging these bullies. They seem unwilling to attack under the view of so many.
"Watch your back girl." He threatens.
"Probably another witch." grumbles another.
"She'll pay for what she did." the first man speaks again, "We'll take it to the the king."
As you stand before these men the sound of a distant drum drifts through the cold night air, it lends you courage and calms your nerves.
Leif smiles forlornly at the elderly woman. “Thank you, móðir(Norse for mother), sleep well.” His smile lingers as she turns away. His speculates that likely she is a widow and now childless as well. We’re all family now. He surmises.
He squeezes the disk of silver in his palm. She had carried this treasure from a world that no longer existed. She had gifted it to him. He slid the coin into a small pocket, separated from the pouch of coins he himself had brought. This coin had escalated in value far beyond the metal weights of all of his other coins combined.
Leif you create your goodberries and put them to good use, distributing them to the sick and exhausted survivors. As you go about your work one elderly woman calls you over and presses a silver coin into your palm. She pats you hand in thanks as she works her gums around the berry.
Leif smiles forlornly at the elderly woman. “Thank you, móðir(Norse for mother), sleep well.” His smile lingers as she turns away. His speculates that likely she is a widow and now childless as well. We’re all family now. He surmises.
He squeezes the disk of silver in his palm. She had carried this treasure from a world that no longer existed. She had gifted it to him. He slid the coin into a small pocket, separated from the pouch of coins he himself had brought. This coin had escalated in value far beyond the metal weights of all of his other coins combined.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Easily defending himself against the oaf's attack (AC18), Halp doesn't strike back more than to just wave his 'enchanted' staff ever so slightly in the coward's direction.
He nods at Kora, presuming she'll be fine now they have some attention, then leads the young girl to the fire. Let them bring their whining to Alaric. A smart king will now what to do. And, as for the lass, let her recover before probing to find out what that todo was all about. There'll be time enough in day's light.
For now, Halp thinks, rest. (FYI, Halprolled a 19 CON roll earlier which I think was for resting, but - in case he needs to make another roll, he got: 11)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(OOC: FYI, haven't manipulated any dice rolls. As the DM will know from my other character, Skritch, in another game who consistently rolled terribly! Thought I'd give the built in dice-roller a go. Guess, I'll go back to just using the character sheet and game log going forward.)
Halp as you make your way back to the firelight you hear the rhythmic sound of a drum being played in the night. As you get to your resting place around the fire you spy the source of the sound and recognise the man from his earlier work stabilising the injured. You settle down with the soft rhythm of the drums soothing you into an exhausted sleep. The young girl you have saved from harm curls up near your feet and almost immediately starts snoring.
OOC: so we have Eldon and Halp tucked up in bed, Richter playing his drum near the fire, while Kora faces down the bullies on the beach. Lief and Sólmyrkvi are out there too, standing between the Kings tent and Kora.
Leif realizes that we can’t report to the king when ‘all is NOT well’ in the camp. His eyes turn from the rustling banner to the shoreline following Sólmyrkvi‘s gaze. He blurts out the obvious, “That’s not good.” and begins to Dash towards the altercation.
Kora relaxes the grip on her staff, and retorts to the first one, "You do that."
The exhaustion of the evening starts settling in and the calming drums start making their way to her tired bones so she turns from the men and heads towards the fire herself. Finding a small section to lay down, she does so and closes her eyes.
Leif you race over but it appears that the girl has everything in hand. You watch as she delivers her final put down and marches past you and Sólmyrkvi toward her rest. The three men glare after her and mumble something about this not being the end of it, before turning to leave.
Sólmyrkvi and Leif you head out together to search of Alaric....Lief (with a 23) you have been walking for several minutes before you spy the kings banner, set above a large tent further up the beach, you go to point it out to your companion but (with a 16) Sólmyrkvi your attention is fixed on Kora, who seems to be starting a fight with three angry men just south of where you now walk. Well you have found her, and surprise surprise she is in the middle of some sort of trouble.
Seeing the silver-haired woman involved in some sort of scuffle at the edge of his lantern's light, Sólmyrkvi is now certain that the person who passed him at the bonfire was his old friend Kora.
Leif...blurts out the obvious, “That’s not good.” and begins to Dash towards the altercation.
Sólmyrkvi follows after Leif, lantern in hand, but he moves more slowly. First of all, there's no telling what kind of situation Kora has gotten herself into. They might be able to help, but if she was caught stealing something from one of the camps...
Second of all, Sólmyrkvi realizes that he left his spear back in the camp. He wishes that he had a weapon with him in case this situation escalates to a real fight. By the time he reaches the site of the scuffle, he finds that he's holding the quarterstaff of dark wood again.
Leif you race over but it appears that the girl has everything in hand. You watch as she delivers her final put down and marches past you and Sólmyrkvi toward her rest. The three men glare after her and mumble something about this not being the end of it, before turning to leave.
But the fight is just breaking up as Sólmyrkvi approaches. It appears that Kora(and Halp!) took care of the situation. They both walk right past without recognizing him in the dark -- not surprising since he's standing in darkness and shining his Bullseye Lantern toward them. But Sólmyrkvi's focus is on the other men who said something about this "not being the end of it."
Sólmyrkvi passes Kora, Halp, and even Leif to go directly to the other men who seemed to be involved in the scuffle, asking in a sympathetic tone, implying that they were the ones who were attacked, "Are you OK? What was that all about?" He looks in the direction that Kora and Halp went, but he's shining his lantern at the men and in the direction the men seemed to be heading as they departed. He suggests helpfully: "This is the kind of weather only Frost Giants of Jötunheimar could like. I can light you back to your campfire, if you'd like."
At this point, no one knows about Sólmyrkvi's past relationship with Kora. He's hoping to find out more about what sort of trouble she's (already!) mixed up in without revealing anything about why he's interested. Just making conversation as he walks them back to their fire (if they accept his help) and wanting to make sure that there are no "trouble-makers" in the camp. After chatting a bit and warming himself up by their campfire, he'll make an excuse to get back to his own campfire. ("I already have my things set up at another fire.")
"We're fine." the leader of the small group of men replies to you Sólmyrkvi, squinting against the glare of your lamp.
"Stupid whore was defending a bloody witch." one of the others spits out, and the leader backhands him across the head,
"Drop it Laf, we will deal with it tomorrow." he turns back to you then Sólmyrkvi, "We were seeking justice, that's all. It is our right."
(With a 19) They take your offer to guide them as a genuine one and you lead them back to their fire. As they walk you probe further and the leader who's name if Veldir opens up a little,
"The old man and the girl should not have gotten involved," he explains, "the other girl, the one we... were questioning. That girl is a demon. She used her foul magic to sink our ship. We saw it with our own eyes."
Lief what do you do while Sólmyrkvi leads away these trouble makers?
"The old man and the girl should not have gotten involved," he explains, "the other girl, the one we... were questioning. That girl is a demon. She used her foul magic to sink our ship. We saw it with our own eyes."
Sólmyrkvi says, "Oh? That sounds awful! Mine sank when it ran upon the rocks." He gestures to his now-bandaged wound, which he sustained when he was thrown against the rocks. "What happened to your ship? I mean, what did the demon-girl do?" He looks out, away from Veldir, as though worried about the presence of a demon-girl in their camp. (In reality, he's just checking to see whether Leif or Kora or anyone else followed him toward Veldir's bonfire.)
Leif follows Sólmyrkvi and the men. Although he didn’t get a good look at the girl (he wished he could have seen how tattered and wet her clothes had been or even how old she was). He was actually predisposed to believe multiple witnesses over just one girl. It seemed entirely possible that the girl could have been a spirit from the sea trying to drag more victims to the depths. But this was tempered by her willingness to be led away from the surf. That seemed unlikely for a seaborne wraith.
He does quietly study the men. Did they appear to have washed ashore. And most of all, he tried to decipher their honesty in their claims.
Sólmyrkvi you push for more information and Veldir hesitates for a moment before responding, "We should have thrown her overboard weeks ago. The girl is gods-cursed. The rats... there were always rats about the child and she seemed to speak to them. A madness we thought. But we saw her this night casting her magic upon the deck of the Firewing... rats do not attack a man like that..." he shakes his head, "...they swarmed the helmsman and drove him overboard screaming and she laughed, she laughed as he drowned and the ship floundered. I will say no more."
Leif (with a 13) you judge that the men seem sincere in their accusations. They appear as wet and as scared as any other on this beach. They at the very least believe their own words.
Your business done with these men for now and having some assurance that the king is upon the beach and established in his tent you both head back to the fire and to sleep.
Richter, seeing the last straglers find their beds you put down your drum and head to sleep yourself.
Sólmyrkvi, Halp, Leif and Richter (beating the DC of 15) you gain a long rest and wake up damp, cold but otherwise refreshed by the nights rest.
Kora, Eldon (Missing the DC of 15) you sleep fitfully and gain only the benefits of a short rest. You start the new day with one point of exhaustion. (Disadvantage on ability checks)
You all wake as the first grey light of dawn bleeds across the horizon. A biting wind whistles through the gaps in your makeshift shelters, carrying with it the metallic scent of brine. White plumes of breath mist before your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes and cloaking the charred, frozen remains of last night’s meagre fire. Beyond the tideline, the shattered ribs of broken ships stand like a jagged graveyard against the pale sky, a stark reminder that while the storm has passed, the true fight for survival has only just begun.
Halp you quickly note that the girl has gone. There is no sign of her nearby.
Halpcasts his glance about for her as he sorts himself out, 'making morning's water' away from folks, etc. If he does see her, even off in the distance, at another fire or whatever, he'll make a plan to go and check on her after he's seen to the king.
Whether he sees her or no, he figures she's probably well enough away from the woes of so-called men for the time being.
When he comes back to where folks were sleeping he'll gather up his kit and bang his stein with his hammer - and make a small amount of busy-noise in various other ways - as he says, "Up and to the king, you rascals and reprobates, he'll have need of good men today. Today and for many days yet. Up, and to the king with you all!"
While he is not exactly quiet with it, Halp does not actually shout.
He figures those he wakes, well and good. But if there are those that really need rest, let them rest. In time enough, Odin's crown willing, they will rise and get to living. He mutters to himself, "Would that there were more that were true of..."
He looks up and down the beach for the king's standard, then Halp heads in that direction.
Sólmyrkvi would have offered to share his tent with Leif. The tent sleeps two, and Leif doesn't seem like he has any other family. Besides, he wants to talk privately about what they heard from Veldir. Sólmyrkvi was inclined to think that the men were just superstitiously lashing out at some woman. (Bullies often gang up on those who seem friendless, weak, and/or "weird.") But in that case, "Why would Veldir make up a story about the girl that's so easy to disprove if we can just find any other survivors of the Firewing?" He worries that there may be at least some truth in Veldir's story. Is there really a dangerous witch in the camp?
The next morning
After all of the struggle to get ashore and then the work through the evening and into night, Sólmyrkvi sleeps soundly. He wakes earlier than he expected and snacks on a portion of his rations. He's already starting to worry about how long the food will need to last until they can find a reliable food supply. He wraps his fine cloak around his clothes and gets ready for the day. While he's considering what to do first, he hears Father Halp's calls. That decides him. He rouses Leif if the teen isn't awake yet, saying, "Come! You wanted to speak with King Alaric?" Then he leaves his tent and finds Father Halp. He looks around for Korato see whether she's awake and up already. (He'd like to speak with about the girl whom Halp and Kora helped last night. In particular, he'd like to meet the girl himself before Veldir's group finds them.)
Sólmyrkvi joins Father Halp to go speak with the king first thing in the morning. He hopes that Kora and Leif, at least, join the group.
Richter's eyes were open just before the crack of dawn. Light had only just begun to peak the distant horizons and and few, if any, were similarly stirred from their miserable rest. The man's limbs ached, and his stomach churned, a consequence of the previous night's Hel. The day would certainly be long, cumbersome. And yet...
With every breath he drew, cold, burning, fresh, Richter felt only gratitude. Every breath was once more spent in life, every moment was more of that life he could experience. How could he have felt anything but? The end had come swift, abruptly. Into it, he had cowered, a man of drink and wench, sent to die with innumerable suffering. Yet from it's haze and fire, the Skald had instead emerged. There was grace in life and through some greater force, he had been allowed to experience it once more, a touch of divinity he could not have ignored. Nor would he.
Where most other fires now dwindled, the old Skald built his, adding small tinder and air enough to let a minute flicker once more take. He used this to warm himself, then pulled a meager skin from his satchel to try the same for his water, carefully holding the skin over the flame until the surface felt as warm flesh. Standing, he stripped the furs from his back, letting his armor and mantle fall away to warm by the smoldering glow. With that, the man spread his arms wide, leaning back to face the heavens, and fell to his knees in the frigid sand. With a soft whisper and the burn of ice nipping his now bare torso, he began his own sermon, softly, quietly chanting his praise - of the Allfather, of Balder, of Njord, and of the Aesir, the sky responding only as an echo, the heavens quiet and Valhalla's halls empty. His words were the only voice in a sea of death deific.
His chant went on until the light of dawn at last carved a pale sliver across the sandy bluffs, warming Richter's chilled skin. Whispering his final thanks, he at last rose, sliding on his meagre furs, now dried by the cinder of his fire, and took a shallow drag from his skin, hot water bubbling past his cracked lips and soothing his hoarse throat.
With that, one foot after the other, the old Skald began to lope forward, his eyes scanning tents and makeshift shelters for the rich color of his King's banner. Others had begun to rise, but too many had opted to continue sleep. He understood. They had braved the end, found peace on the other side. In any other way, he'd have found sympathy in their inaction. But theirs was surely the last few of men. Rest could not be afforded without effort. Before he'd reached the center of their desperate encampment, Richter allowed his magic to coalesce, and from nowhere, the shrill shriek of a raven pierced the quiet morning. The excited vocals of a hungry bird feasting on death. He let it fill the area before he too added his voice, cawing and cackling like an old madman. His eyes were wild, his face twisted in motifs of false anger and open-mouthed excitement.
This was no performance, however. No entertainment. It was not meant to create laughter. It was to rouse those who saw fit to sleep in. "Rise! Rise, ye slumbering warriors! Before the fool of a Trickster carries you off in your sleep! Before the birds think you dead and come to pick out your eyes! RISE AND WORK, THAT YOU MAY REST AGAIN!" He let his voice boom with those final words, and continued on to where his King was surely awakened within, the caterwhaul of ravens building in cadence.
[Thaumaturgy for the booming voice and cackling ravens]
Eldon wakes up aching and sore and he grumbles as he returns to the fire "I ought to make some beds today, I don't want to wake up with cramps tomorrow"
He greets everyone at the fire with a cheery acknowledgement. "Morning everyone!" after warming himself up he asks those present "What do we have in the means of bedding material? Cloth, canvas, wool, cotton?"
He then fetches his torch handles and goes searching for the materials to finish them.
Kora tosses and tuns within her bedroll.. restful sleep never quite finding her, only nightmares. First filled with drowning, not finding purchase with the beach, but being pulled down under, she not being able to overcome the tides that will her body beneath as it tumbles and breaks upon the rocks. Then the beating of rocks upon her torso become the feet of the men that were kicking the young woman Halp and she found the night before. Their words and spit falling upon herself and she curls into a protective ball.
The movements of others around the old fire tell her of morning come as her head is buried within the bedroll, unwanting day to come. What will this day bring? What land have they invaded in their attempt to survive the storm? Would the plants and animals be welcome or forbidding? Honestly.. these last thoughts have her more interested than worried and it is those that bring her out of her fretful doze more than anything.
She lays there, listening to one of them chant loudly to rise before the crows come peck out their eyes. Well, crows won't find her eyes in here, she thinks but then stretches and slowly starts to emerge. Sitting up, she looks around for the young girl the one called Halp dragged back here but she doesn't see her. She sees the old man as he leaves the area and then looks around for the only other familiar face, Drekise. And just as she starts to look for him, she sees he has joined Halp. She isn't ready to rise, the exhaustion of the night before clinging to her and she pulls out her waterskin, taking a long pull from it.
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Kora, the man in front of you spits onto the sand and waves for his companion to put away his knife. There is a crowd gathering now, brought in by the shouting of Halp and your own performance challenging these bullies. They seem unwilling to attack under the view of so many.
"Watch your back girl." He threatens.
"Probably another witch." grumbles another.
"She'll pay for what she did." the first man speaks again, "We'll take it to the the king."
As you stand before these men the sound of a distant drum drifts through the cold night air, it lends you courage and calms your nerves.
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
Leif smiles forlornly at the elderly woman. “Thank you, móðir (Norse for mother), sleep well.” His smile lingers as she turns away. His speculates that likely she is a widow and now childless as well. We’re all family now. He surmises.
He squeezes the disk of silver in his palm. She had carried this treasure from a world that no longer existed. She had gifted it to him. He slid the coin into a small pocket, separated from the pouch of coins he himself had brought. This coin had escalated in value far beyond the metal weights of all of his other coins combined.
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
Leif Pedersen - Human Druid - Beyond the Ragnarök
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
”I am not young enough to know everything.” - Oscar Wilde
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
Leif Pedersen - Human Druid - Beyond the Ragnarök
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
”I am not young enough to know everything.” - Oscar Wilde
Easily defending himself against the oaf's attack (AC18), Halp doesn't strike back more than to just wave his 'enchanted' staff ever so slightly in the coward's direction.
He nods at Kora, presuming she'll be fine now they have some attention, then leads the young girl to the fire. Let them bring their whining to Alaric. A smart king will now what to do. And, as for the lass, let her recover before probing to find out what that todo was all about. There'll be time enough in day's light.
For now, Halp thinks, rest. (FYI, Halp rolled a 19 CON roll earlier which I think was for resting, but - in case he needs to make another roll, he got: 11)
(OOC: FYI, haven't manipulated any dice rolls. As the DM will know from my other character, Skritch, in another game who consistently rolled terribly! Thought I'd give the built in dice-roller a go. Guess, I'll go back to just using the character sheet and game log going forward.)
Halp as you make your way back to the firelight you hear the rhythmic sound of a drum being played in the night. As you get to your resting place around the fire you spy the source of the sound and recognise the man from his earlier work stabilising the injured. You settle down with the soft rhythm of the drums soothing you into an exhausted sleep. The young girl you have saved from harm curls up near your feet and almost immediately starts snoring.
OOC: so we have Eldon and Halp tucked up in bed, Richter playing his drum near the fire, while Kora faces down the bullies on the beach. Lief and Sólmyrkvi are out there too, standing between the Kings tent and Kora.
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
Leif realizes that we can’t report to the king when ‘all is NOT well’ in the camp. His eyes turn from the rustling banner to the shoreline following Sólmyrkvi‘s gaze. He blurts out the obvious, “That’s not good.” and begins to Dash towards the altercation.
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
Leif Pedersen - Human Druid - Beyond the Ragnarök
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
”I am not young enough to know everything.” - Oscar Wilde
Kora relaxes the grip on her staff, and retorts to the first one, "You do that."
The exhaustion of the evening starts settling in and the calming drums start making their way to her tired bones so she turns from the men and heads towards the fire herself. Finding a small section to lay down, she does so and closes her eyes.
Leif you race over but it appears that the girl has everything in hand. You watch as she delivers her final put down and marches past you and Sólmyrkvi toward her rest. The three men glare after her and mumble something about this not being the end of it, before turning to leave.
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
Seeing the silver-haired woman involved in some sort of scuffle at the edge of his lantern's light, Sólmyrkvi is now certain that the person who passed him at the bonfire was his old friend Kora.
Sólmyrkvi follows after Leif, lantern in hand, but he moves more slowly. First of all, there's no telling what kind of situation Kora has gotten herself into. They might be able to help, but if she was caught stealing something from one of the camps...
Second of all, Sólmyrkvi realizes that he left his spear back in the camp. He wishes that he had a weapon with him in case this situation escalates to a real fight. By the time he reaches the site of the scuffle, he finds that he's holding the quarterstaff of dark wood again.
But the fight is just breaking up as Sólmyrkvi approaches. It appears that Kora (and Halp!) took care of the situation. They both walk right past without recognizing him in the dark -- not surprising since he's standing in darkness and shining his Bullseye Lantern toward them. But Sólmyrkvi's focus is on the other men who said something about this "not being the end of it."
Sólmyrkvi passes Kora, Halp, and even Leif to go directly to the other men who seemed to be involved in the scuffle, asking in a sympathetic tone, implying that they were the ones who were attacked, "Are you OK? What was that all about?" He looks in the direction that Kora and Halp went, but he's shining his lantern at the men and in the direction the men seemed to be heading as they departed. He suggests helpfully: "This is the kind of weather only Frost Giants of Jötunheimar could like. I can light you back to your campfire, if you'd like."
At this point, no one knows about Sólmyrkvi's past relationship with Kora. He's hoping to find out more about what sort of trouble she's (already!) mixed up in without revealing anything about why he's interested. Just making conversation as he walks them back to their fire (if they accept his help) and wanting to make sure that there are no "trouble-makers" in the camp. After chatting a bit and warming himself up by their campfire, he'll make an excuse to get back to his own campfire. ("I already have my things set up at another fire.")
Persuasion / Deception (same modifier in both): 18
"We're fine." the leader of the small group of men replies to you Sólmyrkvi, squinting against the glare of your lamp.
"Stupid whore was defending a bloody witch." one of the others spits out, and the leader backhands him across the head,
"Drop it Laf, we will deal with it tomorrow." he turns back to you then Sólmyrkvi, "We were seeking justice, that's all. It is our right."
(With a 19) They take your offer to guide them as a genuine one and you lead them back to their fire. As they walk you probe further and the leader who's name if Veldir opens up a little,
"The old man and the girl should not have gotten involved," he explains, "the other girl, the one we... were questioning. That girl is a demon. She used her foul magic to sink our ship. We saw it with our own eyes."
Lief what do you do while Sólmyrkvi leads away these trouble makers?
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
Sólmyrkvi says, "Oh? That sounds awful! Mine sank when it ran upon the rocks." He gestures to his now-bandaged wound, which he sustained when he was thrown against the rocks. "What happened to your ship? I mean, what did the demon-girl do?" He looks out, away from Veldir, as though worried about the presence of a demon-girl in their camp. (In reality, he's just checking to see whether Leif or Kora or anyone else followed him toward Veldir's bonfire.)
Leif follows Sólmyrkvi and the men. Although he didn’t get a good look at the girl (he wished he could have seen how tattered and wet her clothes had been or even how old she was). He was actually predisposed to believe multiple witnesses over just one girl. It seemed entirely possible that the girl could have been a spirit from the sea trying to drag more victims to the depths. But this was tempered by her willingness to be led away from the surf. That seemed unlikely for a seaborne wraith.
He does quietly study the men. Did they appear to have washed ashore. And most of all, he tried to decipher their honesty in their claims.
[ability]Insight[/ability]: 13
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
Leif Pedersen - Human Druid - Beyond the Ragnarök
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
”I am not young enough to know everything.” - Oscar Wilde
Sólmyrkvi you push for more information and Veldir hesitates for a moment before responding, "We should have thrown her overboard weeks ago. The girl is gods-cursed. The rats... there were always rats about the child and she seemed to speak to them. A madness we thought. But we saw her this night casting her magic upon the deck of the Firewing... rats do not attack a man like that..." he shakes his head, "...they swarmed the helmsman and drove him overboard screaming and she laughed, she laughed as he drowned and the ship floundered. I will say no more."
Leif (with a 13) you judge that the men seem sincere in their accusations. They appear as wet and as scared as any other on this beach. They at the very least believe their own words.
Your business done with these men for now and having some assurance that the king is upon the beach and established in his tent you both head back to the fire and to sleep.
Richter, seeing the last straglers find their beds you put down your drum and head to sleep yourself.
Sólmyrkvi, Halp, Leif and Richter (beating the DC of 15) you gain a long rest and wake up damp, cold but otherwise refreshed by the nights rest.
Kora, Eldon (Missing the DC of 15) you sleep fitfully and gain only the benefits of a short rest. You start the new day with one point of exhaustion. (Disadvantage on ability checks)
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
4th Eirwind ~ Day two
You all wake as the first grey light of dawn bleeds across the horizon. A biting wind whistles through the gaps in your makeshift shelters, carrying with it the metallic scent of brine. White plumes of breath mist before your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes and cloaking the charred, frozen remains of last night’s meagre fire. Beyond the tideline, the shattered ribs of broken ships stand like a jagged graveyard against the pale sky, a stark reminder that while the storm has passed, the true fight for survival has only just begun.
Halp you quickly note that the girl has gone. There is no sign of her nearby.
DM - Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters
Halp casts his glance about for her as he sorts himself out, 'making morning's water' away from folks, etc. If he does see her, even off in the distance, at another fire or whatever, he'll make a plan to go and check on her after he's seen to the king.
Whether he sees her or no, he figures she's probably well enough away from the woes of so-called men for the time being.
When he comes back to where folks were sleeping he'll gather up his kit and bang his stein with his hammer - and make a small amount of busy-noise in various other ways - as he says, "Up and to the king, you rascals and reprobates, he'll have need of good men today. Today and for many days yet. Up, and to the king with you all!"
While he is not exactly quiet with it, Halp does not actually shout.
He figures those he wakes, well and good. But if there are those that really need rest, let them rest. In time enough, Odin's crown willing, they will rise and get to living. He mutters to himself, "Would that there were more that were true of..."
He looks up and down the beach for the king's standard, then Halp heads in that direction.
The previous night
Sólmyrkvi would have offered to share his tent with Leif. The tent sleeps two, and Leif doesn't seem like he has any other family. Besides, he wants to talk privately about what they heard from Veldir. Sólmyrkvi was inclined to think that the men were just superstitiously lashing out at some woman. (Bullies often gang up on those who seem friendless, weak, and/or "weird.") But in that case, "Why would Veldir make up a story about the girl that's so easy to disprove if we can just find any other survivors of the Firewing?" He worries that there may be at least some truth in Veldir's story. Is there really a dangerous witch in the camp?
The next morning
After all of the struggle to get ashore and then the work through the evening and into night, Sólmyrkvi sleeps soundly. He wakes earlier than he expected and snacks on a portion of his rations. He's already starting to worry about how long the food will need to last until they can find a reliable food supply. He wraps his fine cloak around his clothes and gets ready for the day. While he's considering what to do first, he hears Father Halp's calls. That decides him. He rouses Leif if the teen isn't awake yet, saying, "Come! You wanted to speak with King Alaric?" Then he leaves his tent and finds Father Halp. He looks around for Kora to see whether she's awake and up already. (He'd like to speak with about the girl whom Halp and Kora helped last night. In particular, he'd like to meet the girl himself before Veldir's group finds them.)
Sólmyrkvi joins Father Halp to go speak with the king first thing in the morning. He hopes that Kora and Leif, at least, join the group.
Richter's eyes were open just before the crack of dawn. Light had only just begun to peak the distant horizons and and few, if any, were similarly stirred from their miserable rest. The man's limbs ached, and his stomach churned, a consequence of the previous night's Hel. The day would certainly be long, cumbersome. And yet...
With every breath he drew, cold, burning, fresh, Richter felt only gratitude. Every breath was once more spent in life, every moment was more of that life he could experience. How could he have felt anything but? The end had come swift, abruptly. Into it, he had cowered, a man of drink and wench, sent to die with innumerable suffering. Yet from it's haze and fire, the Skald had instead emerged. There was grace in life and through some greater force, he had been allowed to experience it once more, a touch of divinity he could not have ignored. Nor would he.
Where most other fires now dwindled, the old Skald built his, adding small tinder and air enough to let a minute flicker once more take. He used this to warm himself, then pulled a meager skin from his satchel to try the same for his water, carefully holding the skin over the flame until the surface felt as warm flesh. Standing, he stripped the furs from his back, letting his armor and mantle fall away to warm by the smoldering glow. With that, the man spread his arms wide, leaning back to face the heavens, and fell to his knees in the frigid sand. With a soft whisper and the burn of ice nipping his now bare torso, he began his own sermon, softly, quietly chanting his praise - of the Allfather, of Balder, of Njord, and of the Aesir, the sky responding only as an echo, the heavens quiet and Valhalla's halls empty. His words were the only voice in a sea of death deific.
His chant went on until the light of dawn at last carved a pale sliver across the sandy bluffs, warming Richter's chilled skin. Whispering his final thanks, he at last rose, sliding on his meagre furs, now dried by the cinder of his fire, and took a shallow drag from his skin, hot water bubbling past his cracked lips and soothing his hoarse throat.
With that, one foot after the other, the old Skald began to lope forward, his eyes scanning tents and makeshift shelters for the rich color of his King's banner. Others had begun to rise, but too many had opted to continue sleep. He understood. They had braved the end, found peace on the other side. In any other way, he'd have found sympathy in their inaction. But theirs was surely the last few of men. Rest could not be afforded without effort. Before he'd reached the center of their desperate encampment, Richter allowed his magic to coalesce, and from nowhere, the shrill shriek of a raven pierced the quiet morning. The excited vocals of a hungry bird feasting on death. He let it fill the area before he too added his voice, cawing and cackling like an old madman. His eyes were wild, his face twisted in motifs of false anger and open-mouthed excitement.
This was no performance, however. No entertainment. It was not meant to create laughter. It was to rouse those who saw fit to sleep in. "Rise! Rise, ye slumbering warriors! Before the fool of a Trickster carries you off in your sleep! Before the birds think you dead and come to pick out your eyes! RISE AND WORK, THAT YOU MAY REST AGAIN!" He let his voice boom with those final words, and continued on to where his King was surely awakened within, the caterwhaul of ravens building in cadence.
[Thaumaturgy for the booming voice and cackling ravens]
Eldon wakes up aching and sore and he grumbles as he returns to the fire "I ought to make some beds today, I don't want to wake up with cramps tomorrow"
He greets everyone at the fire with a cheery acknowledgement. "Morning everyone!" after warming himself up he asks those present "What do we have in the means of bedding material? Cloth, canvas, wool, cotton?"
He then fetches his torch handles and goes searching for the materials to finish them.
DnD is awesome!
Kora tosses and tuns within her bedroll.. restful sleep never quite finding her, only nightmares. First filled with drowning, not finding purchase with the beach, but being pulled down under, she not being able to overcome the tides that will her body beneath as it tumbles and breaks upon the rocks. Then the beating of rocks upon her torso become the feet of the men that were kicking the young woman Halp and she found the night before. Their words and spit falling upon herself and she curls into a protective ball.
The movements of others around the old fire tell her of morning come as her head is buried within the bedroll, unwanting day to come. What will this day bring? What land have they invaded in their attempt to survive the storm? Would the plants and animals be welcome or forbidding? Honestly.. these last thoughts have her more interested than worried and it is those that bring her out of her fretful doze more than anything.
She lays there, listening to one of them chant loudly to rise before the crows come peck out their eyes. Well, crows won't find her eyes in here, she thinks but then stretches and slowly starts to emerge. Sitting up, she looks around for the young girl the one called Halp dragged back here but she doesn't see her. She sees the old man as he leaves the area and then looks around for the only other familiar face, Drekise. And just as she starts to look for him, she sees he has joined Halp. She isn't ready to rise, the exhaustion of the night before clinging to her and she pulls out her waterskin, taking a long pull from it.