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Session 1 – “Arrival at Evingard”

December 23, 2014 / Mason Alexander

The party met in Norway and found passage to Iceland with a brief stop at Evingard. They
made some enemies…well, mostly enemies at this point and killed a few undead polar bears. Some of my players typed up an in character summary of what happened. Here they are.

SIGURD’S ACCOUNT
Sigurd and Thorvald “The Undertaker” have been friends for some time now.  They both enjoy the dead more sometimes than the living. They both enjoy speaking with the Angels of Death, revere their beauty and roles they play in this land…  Sigurd also sees some of Sigil in Thorvald, while he can be rough on the edges Thorvald is a good man.. Sigurd enjoys travelling with him, life is always an adventure and Sigurd would be honored to die beside Thorvald in a hero’s death.
So our story begins as Thorvald has received a contract to bury the dead (Inga) in a far away land. So, Sigurd and Thorvald find themselves in need of transportation to Iceland. They come across a ship’s captain in the port town. Her name is Bola. Bola is a mercenary/captain who likes gold and calls her weapon “Vira”. She has two companions Ragnar “the Free Spirited” and Grimnir “the Varangian” a seasoned traveler who has been across many lands and fought in many of them.
Sigurd seeks to negotiate passage on her ship and buys a round of drinks for the bar, then he begins the critical negotiations with Bola and after a short while she will allow Sigurd, Thorvald and Inga (the dead) on the longboat.
Very pleased we agree to meet in the morning to head out..
The next morning upon arrival to the ship, Thorvald and I are carrying Inga. I have to say it’s more like Thorvald is carrying his end, but my old bones and having challenges carrying my side. I am also thinking that Inga is VERY HEAVY for such a young and thin looking lass. Anyway, I struggle, but don’t drop the dead woman….
Upon arrival to the ship we uncover that Bola is not the captain and a bit of a trickster (I think to my self, maybe she is a follower of Loki… She is an attractive girl, but she bears closer observation, I am not sure what motivates her)…
I then discuss with the captain, who finally after we import the criticality of the situation and I offer to help speed up his journey with my rune magics allows, Thorvald, Inga and myself on the ship. We also have to lash Inga to the bow, Thorvald is always thinking of how to best handle the dead. Then I freeze her a bit so keep the smell down…
We travel to the Faroe Islands, partially through our journey a Kraken attacks the vessel. I saw an omen of the attack and realized that the thinner crew would be attacked last, so I sucked in my gut stayed near the center mast and got some of the thinner crew to stand with me….. Saving a few lives.. Others were all fighting for their lives… after what seemed like an eternity we fended off the Kraken and continued on our journey, we lost over 10 crew, our mast and had to row the vessel into the Faroe Islands….  A broken ship indeed…
Upon arrival, there was Blood on the snow, death in the air (my kind of place)…. I started by speaking with Dead, how I enjoy these conversations as the dead do NOT lie, where the living, that is another matter.. I then find out about Undead Bears had attacked the town…
Then as we head toward the entrance to the city, we are attacked by rogues wanting food in the streets. As Bola was carrying a large basket of fish to sell in the market. During the fight we quickly defeated the rogues, but Bola lost her mind. She started talking with another voice and said she did not know how we got here. Both Ragnar “the Free Spirited” and Gimnir “the Varangian” acted is if nothing had happened. I secretly thought she might be an agent of Loki the trickster. I will keep my eye on this one…
As we approach, we see on the branches of a tree. a Black Owl and White Owl near the entrance – I see an Omen that the one that is suppose to be trustworthy may be lying…
When we arrive at the town, Thorvald and others, speak with Guard and find out about Cannibals in Mines, confirm that 12 polar bears attack the fisherman.. Thorvald complements the guard on his lack of intelligence.   We are soo good at making friends…
I start to make a LIST OF WHO WE CAN FIGHT TO HAVE A HEROIC DEATH!!!
I place the Undead Bears on the LIST….
The Cannibal Miners are…….. ADDED to the LIST!!!!
We meet a Godi of
Odin, finally a good person. During the discussion, we find out there are two immortals in town and the one that represents the Gods, is actually not trustworthy and the other representing the Giants can be trusted. Bola or whoever she says she is now, whispers to me that the Godi knows more than he is telling and may be lying to me..   I directly confront the Godi (as I plan to die a heroic death any day know and don’t have time for pleasantries).    He seems offended, I wonder who is working for Loki here either the Godi or Bola (or who ever she is now).. I will most likely die soon, so I may not have time to unravel this mystery..
Then we see a very wealthy man, and meet the Merchant Magnus and his guards We start a conversation with Magnus and realize he is just exploiting these people. We don’t like him and let him know that.. Then he walks away.. I think HOW RUDE……. So…… I add him MAGNUS THE MERCHANT and his Guards to the LIST!!!
Next we decide to save the town from the Brutality of the Undead Bears (secretly I check the list and believe this might be my glorious death, I am so excited, I may see my fathers and mother soon)….
Meet Hunter Grim (on the List) – He is a skilled and boastful hunter…. (he seems powerful and is maybe deserving to be on the list). As we speak to him, he is boastful and powerful as a hunter. But as Thorvald points out, he spends his time boasting versus saving the town from other bears… He claims to have killed one… For his pride, boastfulness and power he Grim is…………   Added to the LIST!!!!! We then tell Grim we are heading to get at least two bears pelts to show him we are greater. I also secretly want to kill all the bears and free this town from the icy grip of BEAR DEATH and BLOOD, hopefully one of the Skald will write an epic saga of our salvation of this town…. I will then get entry into Valhalla.
So we head off west, per the instructions of the Hunter Grim
<OUT OF GAME – MY Loving Wife head to pick up a food order for 6 starving gamers to have dinner…., It takes over 1 hour because PEI WEI gives our food to the wrong people and they have to re-make the order…. FOR THIS!!!!!
PEI WEI is ………………….. Added to the LIST!!!!!
So back to our adventurers as they sleep on the white snow, approx. 2 am in the night two undead bears attack the camp.. During the conflict we have a glorious fight, blood is spilled on our side and we vanquish the 2 giant Undead Bears…. For more details… Read the “Heroic Poem of Sigurd, the Bears of Undeath and Saving Bola the confused” (Coming soon)…..
At the end my entrails are being stuffed back into my body, I was moments from death, but this is NOT my time… But hopefully soon…….   We have more Undead Bears to track and kill and I need some rest…..
Please read more as coming soon, Episode 2: The Adventures of Sigurd – Rune Master

RAGNAR’S ACCOUNT

The Return of Ragnar
After the battle, I wondered to myself, why am I here anyway? I thought back to when I met my companions. I had arranged for a voyage here because I heard that this place suffered great misfortunes and needed someone to help. I went to the tavern to socialize for the last time before we left, and I met four people and a dead body who were also coming. There was a little trouble when we got to the ship and one of my companions tried to usurp the title of captain. I now know she’s not quite right in the head. After that was settled, we left. A few days into the voyage, we were attacked by a kraken. When it had its fill it left, leaving only 5 or 10 people alive. The ship made it to our destination intact. Noticing that the other ships here had been frozen in and stripped of their goods, we decided to make sure nobody would steal from our ship by burying the goods near the shore. The only thing we didn’t bury was a basket of fish that my multi-named friend brought to sell at the market. At the gate we talked to the guard and heard about the many troubles that beset this town. We started making a list to keep track. On our way to the market we were attacked by thieves who wanted our fish. Then we spoke to a deceitful godi and a selfish merchant/king. Then we went to a famous hunter for advice. He was full of himself, boasting that he had the skin of one of the undead bears plaguing the town. We told him we could get two if he told us where to find them. He told us, and we went. In the night we were attacked by two undead bears. they nearly killed two of us, and after our victory, we
noticed one of them was the one that the hunter had skinned. That put us into overkill mode, and we chopped everything but the heads into tiny pieces and then burnt the pieces. It was a great victory, but our time on this island is long from over.

Grimnir “The Varangian”

December 22, 2014 / Mason Alexander

GRIMNIR “THE VARANGIAN”

What remains of Grímnirs saga Þórbrandssonar is fragmentary at best. Most of the saga takes place before the dark days of Fimbulwinter. These years saw him grow from a young man into a seasoned warrior. Unfortunately, most of these chapters are lost to us.

We know he adventured far afield. From Norway to Sweden, from Sweden to Russia and finally he found himself in the Emperor’s service in Constantinople. It is from this time that he became known as “the Varangian.”

Most of what we have left detail his travels home and his attempt to reunite with his family in Iceland once Fimbulwinter descended. Who does not recall the famed names of his colorful companions on that fabled odyssey? Sigurd Spirit-Speaker, Thorvald the Undertaker, Ragnar the Wanderer, and Ǽstrid the Many-Faced are some of literature’s greatest figures.

But theirs is the end of the tale. Our saga opens on Grímnir’s coming of age in Iceland…

Chapter 1: Of Þórbrand and his sons.

In the fallow years after Harald Fairhair’s reign, Norway fell upon dark days. Harald united Norway, and his sons tore it asunder. It was during the days of Hákon Aðalsteinsfóstri, whom some hight Haakon the Good, that a young jarl who refused to worship Haakon’s crucified god fled Norway for the freedom of Iceland.

He was hight Þórbrand Grímsson. Iceland he found fairly settled. There he took to him a wife whose father worshiped in the Old Ways. This man was hight Kettil Asbjornsson, and had been a neighboring jarl in Norway, whom Erik Bloodaxe had earlier expelled from the land.

Þórbrand Grímsson and Svanhild Kettilsdóttir had three sons and two daughters who survived childhood. The eldest son was hight Hrafn, the second son Grímnir, and the baby brother was hight Bjorn. Their sisters were hight Refdis and Álfdis.

Þórbrand and Svanhild settled along the Þjorsa, under the angry eye of Hekla. Kettil kept his farm along the Laxa, not far away. It is in the sixteenth summer of the second son that our story truly starts. Kettil was aged and his claim as goði contested by a man hight Þorkell.

Now, Bera Þorkellsdóttir was a beauty and Hrafn was be-smitten. Hrafn’s wooing won her heart, and secretly the lovers stole away along the Laxa. Bera’s brother Bard followed them in their flight as far afield as Flói. Within sight of the sea, Bard slew Hrafn and dragged Bera, beating her until she was barely breathing, back to their homestead.

Þorkell henceforth forbade Bera from leaving the homestead. But Bera had a handmaid, a thrall hight Ljota. This slave she sent to Þórbrand that he might know what became of Hrafn. On her arrival at Þórbrandsstaðir, Ljota first found Grímnir without. He recognized her at once and ushered her in that she might tell her tale to Þórbrand.

When Þórbrand heard how his eldest had died his big heart broke and beat no more. Thus it fell to Grímnir to avenge his dead and to defend his family’s honor. From above the door he took his father’s war-axes: one bright hightStjarna, the other black-hafted hight Sveðja.

Hot-headed from youth and heartbreak, Grímnir gathered to him only those thralls that were near and set off for Þorkellsvatn where Þorkell made his home. As the sun set, Grímnir’s band spied Bard alone on the road alongside the river Hvita, headed home. Quickly they caught up to him and Grímnir called Bard out.

Grímnir challenged Bard to hólmgang three days hence where the road to Þingvellir met the road from Mosfell. Bard boasted that he could beat Grímnir and his band of thralls on the spot, so why wait? But Grímnir would not be baited and bade Bard goodbye.

Thrice Sköll chased Sól across the sky and thrice Hati sought Máni. On the third day, at the appointed time and place, Grímnir stood awaiting Bard. His little brother Bjorn was there to hand him his shields. In all twenty men, friends, cousins and thralls, stood witness.

The greater part of the day passed and Bard did not show. Just as the party was coming to believe that Bard must be declared niðingr, an outlaw and a coward, Bard band was seen cresting a hill to the east. Bard had brought some forty of his father’s men to bear witness of the hólmgang.

According to custom, Grímnir recited the rules of the hólmgang. The two laid their cloaks down and the lines were drawn around them. The hazels were posted and each man stood upon his cloak. Grímnir held Stjarna in his right hand and Sveðja dangled from his left wrist, as that hand held his shield.

Swart Bard had brought a mighty brand, a sword sharp and keen. He too held a hólmgang shield, and bade Grímnir begin. Fair Grímnir reminded Bard that as Grímnir had issued the challenge, the first blow belonged to Bard.

Bard swung his sword across and down and sheared half of Grímnir’s soft shield away. Bard smiled and taunted the youth, but Bjorn was there with Grímnir’s new shield and it was Bard’s turn to nurse a numb hand. Stjarna stopped the braggart cold, almost knocking him from off his cloak.

Bard’s next blow shattered Grímnir’s shield, but Grímnir kept his footing. Grímnir waited not for Bjorn, but brought his axe up and under catching the crotch and splitting asunder his foeman’s stomach. Bard’s kinsmen gathered him up and bore him home, his corpse to bury.

Grímnir thought justice served and to Þórbrandsstaðir he returned. Mighty Hekla grumbled, and Grímnir knew Hel had new company. Now Kettil Asbjornsson, Grímnir’s grandfather was an ancient man and he died before that summer’s Alþing, leaving young Grímnir head of his family.

Grímnir was no goði, and Þorkell had an axe to grind. On the road to the Alþing, Þorkell waylayed Grímnir’s men, killing many of his freemen and scattering those who remained. When Grímnir arrived, he had but the boy Bjorn and a batch of thralls. None of whom could stand for him in court and counter the complaint that Þorkell brought against him.

Grímnir was accused of ambushing Bard and murdering him maliciously. Þorkell was a powerful man, and no one dared put lie to his outrageous tale. But try as he might, Þorkell could not have Grímnir declared full outlaw. Instead Grímnir was made fjörbaugsgarður (a lesser outlaw) and forced to flee from Iceland for three years.

Grímnir put Þórbrandsstaðir, his mother Svanhild, brother Bjorn, and sisters Refdis and Álfdis in the care of his young cousin Kari Kettilsson and left upon a longship for Norway.

A number of subsequent pages of the Heimsvallabók (our only source of the chapters that preceed Fimbulwinter) were torn from the book in ancient days for reasons that do not come down to us.

Sigurd the Rune Master

December 22, 2014 / Mason Alexander

SIGURD THE RUNE MASTER

The Saga of Sigurd son of Sigil, Rune master, Defender of the Weak, Bearer of “Gunthar” the spear made from the fragment of “Odin’s Spear – Gungnir”Born in Jamtaland (p33) before Fimbulwinter when Jamtaland was a wild frontier and habitable. His birth father ÅSBJÖRN (Meaning Divine Bear) was a rune priest, he had long brown hair with a long beard. Some said his soul had come back from Vahalla and he had mastered the power of rune magic and the ability to transform into a bear. His birth mother was Göndul (Meaning wand wielder) was a woman of incredible beauty with flowing blonde hair and strong lines. She was Seithkona and quite a free spirit, who was known as a wise woman. She was also an expert in magic of death and the dead, balancing this, she also worshipped Freya (the chief of the Valkyries) and respected the dead once they have fallen..When Sigurd was only 2 years of age, giants believed to come from Norrland came to raid and destroy the frontier of Jamtaland. Both ÅSBJÖRN and Göndul were charged by the Jarl with the defense of the northern boarder. During a two month set of battles they were slain but bought the Jarl time to levy some more troops to defend Jamtaland. Sadly only ÅSBJÖRN was believed to have a warriors funeral as he died early in the campaign. Many who survived said they saw his soul leave the funeral pyre at the hands of a Valkyrie. Göndul however perished some days latter when she single handedly faced a horde of 10 giants, she gave her life so that the garrison could retreat back to Jamtaland. He body was never found. Sigurd secretly hopes to see his mother in Valhalla some day and aspires to ascend to see his family.All that returned from the battle of the Giants was the “Spear of his father “Gunthar”. A spear which Sigurd carries even today in memory of family and in worship of Odin…The Jarl “Toberian” took the young Sigurd into his family to be raised. At the age of 7 a wandering Skald Sigil (Meaning Seal or Sun) a warrior priest of Odin came to see Toberian and claimed he has seen an Omen that if Sigurd is raised in Jamtaland he will die and he also secretly told the Jarl that many of his other people were at risk. Toberian respects the Skald and his prophesy and allows Sigurd to go with Frode as his assistant. (Privately (only between Sigil and the Jarl)- The Sun of Odin came to tell the Jarl to leave with his people, but the Jarl did NOT believe fully, when the Fimbulwinter finally comes most all of the inhabitants of Jamtaland perish, so the Omen was NOT just for Sigurd but for many of the people, Jarl Toberian did not want to believe so he ONLY allowed the boy Sigurd to go at Sigil’s insistence).Sigil was a good adopted father for Sigurd. At first he started to teach him the ways of a Skald, but this was not natural for the boy, then he realized his natural talents were in Rune magic and everywhere Sigil travelled he got the boy training from the local Rune Masters until at the age of 16, the boy had travelled much of the lands and was a Rune Master in his own right…

Sigil and Sigurd, when he reached age 16 parted ways as Sigil said the boy is a man and should make his own way. Sigurd carried “Gunthar” the spear of his birth father and worships the all father Odin. He had hoped in his youth to be able to speak with his dead father, and studied diligently. But has realized he must get into Valhalla to see his parents. So he is continually seeking acts of Heroism to get the attention of the Valkyries, he does NOT fear death and only seeks to aid the week. After 15 years, Sigurd heard that Sigil had passed in a glorious battle in Iceland. Sigurd hopes that Sigil also was selected by the Valkyries.

Sigurd has been travelling for over 29 year (now at the age of 45 years old). His life is filled with deeds of good and kindness, of helping the living, commune with their lost love ones and spreading the word of the All Father… Now that Fimbulwinter has come, he knows he had little time to die as a hero to see his fathers and hopefully his mother in Vahalla and fight by Odin’s side to slay the Giants to free Midguard from the icy grip..

Look forward to the Heroic Deeds of Sigurd and his Glorious Death!!!

BACKGROUND ON FREYA
Freya is quite independent, being chief of the Valkyries, the demi-goddesses who select the noble and heroic dead and carry them to the Realm of the Gods. Some of the legends say that a quarter or even a half of the dead go to Freya. She is patroness of women who attain wisdom, status, and power, since the Valkyries had been ordinary women, then priestesses, and after being Valkyr became Norns, the Great Goddesses who weave the fates and histories of people and of nations.

Freya is the Daughter of Time, as well as the patron and protectress of the human race. On her breast she wears “the jewel whose power cannot be resisted,”

Thorvald, Son of Snaggi

December 22, 2014 / Mason Alexander

THORVALD, SON OF SNAGGI

Thorvald, son of Snaggi, son of Thorbrecht, son of Thorgeld, son of Johan, has a heavy heart and a tale of woe.I met my bride to be on a sunny June day, just after a beautiful snow, with skies as clear and blue as could be asked for. But no matter how blue and beautiful and wide the skies, they were no match for the blue of my bride’s eyes, nor the beauty of her face, or the grandeur of her life.Our’s was a love like new fallen snow before man nor creature sets a print upon it. Pristine, unmolested, pure and sparkling.I was the son of a merchant, son of a good hard working man in Gotland. We had coin. We lived life with a certain measure of ease and comfort. But we owned no one, and no one owned us. We spoke our minds, read books, practiced fighting in the Town militia, and lived.As my bride and my’s wedding day approached, she came up with the idea of visiting a fortune teller to see about our future together. Confident in a good outcome, we walked hand in hand to the old crone’s hut, laid down two denarius, and asked the old women how many children we would have.She said none.We asked her how many years together as man and wife we would have.She said none.

We asked her how many months, days, even hours we would have together as man and wife.

She said none.

My bride wept. I became angry, turned over the old crone’s table and stormed out of her yurt. As we left, the old witch pointed a finger at me, and laughing, said that my bride and I would never part, and never be as one.

I dismissed this as the ravings of an old women, and prepared for our wedding day. But my bride held on to the prophesy as one holds onto a cold. It began to eat at her. It cast a cloud. But forward we went.

On our wedding day, the skies were blue, snow had just fallen, and everyone in the Town who was anyone came to watch us be joined. My bride was happy, and the cloud seemed to have lifted.

Our cleric of Odin began the ritual, and I said my vows. As you, the reader, would predict, clouds began to form off in the horizon. I admonished the cleric to speak faster, but his cadence remained constant. As it came to my bride’s vows, she began. She smiled, and the world was new and fresh and nothing could be wrong. Except for me. I was wrong. The world is a terrible place.

The winds picked up, lightning from Thor’s hammer crashed amongst us, and my bride’s voice faltered. Suddenly, three spirits whirled out of the maelstrom, and the town began to fight them. Sword on sword, screams of terror, it was an epic battle. A battle for the tables of Valhalla. Not a man of the Town paused, and soon, the three spirits were but one. My father advanced on the last spirit, who revealed itself in the visage of my mother, Helga Springton. My father had not seen her living for a score, having died in my birth. He hesitated, and that was all the spirit needed to end my father Snaggi. Then the spirit turned to me.

I charged. I was vengeful. All of my score years with my father came pouring out in my sword. I wailed on the spirit, and had it down to its last. I was not to be denied. As a last desperate act, the spirit caused a cloud burst of swirling smoke and darkness to envelop us. But I would not be denied. I spied the spirit’s shape in the cloud, and drove my sword into its midsection. The cloud dissipated in an instant, and the spirit held in front of it, in long beastly talons, my bride. The spirit had used my bride as a shield, and I had slain my bride. With her last breath, my bride had a look of sadness, or despair, as if asking why I had harmed her. Then the light of the world went out.

Still grasping my brides now still corpse was the old fortune teller, with mirth in her eyes and laughter in her throat. She pointed to my bride, my light of the world, my Ingrid, and said the spirits could not permit such a pure love to exist in the world, as it would encourage mankind to hope and strive. That could not be allowed. She then reminded my that my Ingrid and I would never part, and then the spirit vanished, with a trail of laughter.

My Ingrid and I have not parted these last three years, nor will we ever.

Thus is the first verse of the Song of Thorvald, son of Snaggi.

John does Trig to determine when enemy Apes in two groups will be in firing range!

Redmark D&D Play Report (Nov. 24, 2014)

November 26, 2014 / Stan Shinn

John does Trig to determine when enemy Apes in two groups will be in firing range!

On Monday, Nov. 24th, we ran a game from 1pm to about 9:45pm. A great time was had by all! The mystery of the Wheel of Time was unraveled. Players survived a shipwreck, killed a bunch of intelligent apes (though a few juveniles escaped), evaded a gargantuan T-Rex, survived the mind games of siren-like lamprey men, puzzled through a few magic relics, and saved some castaways.

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Characters Present:

Martines (Halfling Rogue) — Emory
Radgar (High Elf Wizard) — Robert
Maedir (Half-Elf Ranger) — Kevin
Draco (Human Fighter) — John
Quintos (Human Fighter) — Mason

Experience: Each player present received 625 XP for defeating monsters, and another 100 XP for great roleplaying.

Treasure: Each received 500 gp reward for solving the mystery. Also, you have the gold and ivory Lyre and special Glove of Loring the Lost. Neither are magical but both are historical treasures.

[/su_box]

And, for no reason I can think of, I’m posting a great quote from the DMG (available Friday at Madness I think):

[su_quote cite=”Dungeon Master Guide” url=”http://www.enworld.org/forum/content.php?2087-The-DMG-Disclaimer-Contains-Some-Secret-Useful-Advice!#.VHYxPytdWCo#ixzz3KDAFY9CK”]Disclaimer: Wizards of the Coast does not officially endorse the following tactics, which are guaranteed to maximize your enjoyment as a Dungeon Master. First, always keep a straight face and say OK no matter how ludicrous or doomed the players’ plan of action is. Second, no matter what happens, pretend that you intended all along for everything to unfold the way it did. Third, if you’re not sure what to do next, feign illness, end the session early, and plot your next move. When all else fails, roll a bunch of dice behind your screen, study them for a moment with a look of deep concern mixed with regret, let loose a heavy sigh, and announce that Tiamat swoops from the sky and attacks.[/su_quote]