The Saga of Varghoss - Aftermath

Varghoss is awoken by the warms sensation of the wolf cub pissing on his face and the sound of his new Jarl's gleeful laughter. It is the only laughter he will here this day.

Frey pushes a bowl of foul smelling and bitter bark tea into his hands.

“Your stomach will need it.” Is old the old seer say before sitting with the young Jarl who sits staring at fascination and the empty eyes of his new ward.

The old Jarl’s wife, the new Jarl’s mother, Goodrun is waiting at the mouth of Frey’s cave. She stands silently looking out over the ruins of what was once the home of her Lord, her son, and their people.

Now it is nothing but a funeral pyre.

Without speaking the Varghoss and Goodrun, take the long slow walk down the mountainside towards the smoking ruins of the Ravenscrag.

Standing in a huddle around the ruins of the Jarl's house, the few survivors of the massacre, mainly Thralls, the people of the outlying farmsteads are also starting to arrive.

All of them wail and cry except one man, he sits quietly by Cormac and Gottir's bodies white-faced and grim, he has a bow at his lap and three Cymri heads at his feet.

Varghoss recognises him it is Corrim, his fathers Thrall although now he is Varghoss Thrall.

Varghoss grew up with Corrim, and is as close to the Thrall as he is to his best friend Farlan. Corrim's mother was a Picti woman, who was captured in a raid. Like his Picti ancestors, Corrim is small and dark, although he looks very much like Varghoss’s father. When Cormac married Varghoss’s mother Corrim's mother was sent away.

Corrim although a Thrall is more or less his own man and has been running Cormac’s farmlands and tending his forestry land for some years now.

When Corrim sees Varghoss approach he puts aside his bow, and stands, Varghoss looks at his father’s corpse and sees that Corrim has bathed him and covered him, hiding the mutilation.

With nothing more than a look exchanged the two young men lift the body of Cormac Bloodaxe, the seawolf, and carry him to the funeral pyre that already smoulders with the dead.

There is no time for ceremony, there is no time to mourn, those that survive know that the dead must be burned lest the living succumb to disease.

At the Pyre Varghoss sees his mother, she is bloody and limping, her face a swollen mess of bruises and her shoulder has been torn and broken by the javelin wound. Yet still people look to her for leadership, and she does not let them down. She watches as Varghoss and Corrim carry her husband to the fire-pit, she watches wordlessly as her sons headless body is placed in the pit, by Goodrun.

All day the survivors work, all-day and long into the night. The Cymri have done their dark work well. Nearly all the people of Ravenscrag are gone to the fire-pit or were already lost to the sea where they were hacked down at the docks.

After the dead are burnt, then the living are tended to Varghoss mother is treated and scolded by Frey in equal measure for not seeking treatment sooner.

As the days pass more of the outlying farmsteaders arrive with food and timber and with nothing else to do, a new long hall is built, for those that survive must sleep somewhere.

After a week, Corrim comes from his vigil on the headland the fleet is returning.

Varghoss and the others gather, and watch the Raven-ships row into port with their Black sails at half-mast. Twenty or more ships set sail only five have returned.

From the first ship, the wounded demoralised Warriors carry the body of the Jarl. It is as Frey said The Jarl is dead and now a boy rules Ravenscrag.

Varghoss looks for familiar faces many men are missing, but he sees Farlan.

“Ho Varghoss, I need not ask what news,” says Farlan looking around at what used to be Ravenscrag.

Farlan like Varghoss was a boy when he left for the raids, now he looks old almost broken.

“Varghoss, what news of my mother and sisters, Elthea and Lotile?”

Varghoss places a hand on Farlan’s shoulder and shakes his head, looking at Farlan’s eyes Varghoss sees his the boy who used to be his friend is gone forever.

“What happened Farlan?”

“We were betrayed.” The bitterness is raw in his voice, "they knew when we where coming, they knew all our plans. We moored in a small sheltered bay with cliffs either side. When we were still in the sea between, beach and boat they rained down javelins and arrows from the cliff tops, they were waiting for us on the beach as well and they came from the sea in their little boats.”

His contempt and anger is there to be seen on his face as easy as the fear and pain can be seen in his eyes.

“We were trapped, surrounded on all sides, flailing about in the water, the Jarl died first, most of the rest died trying to get his body to a ship, the dead were everywhere, the sea was red with blood Varghoss, my father died in the water. War was not how I imagined it would be.” His voice trails of and Varghoss watches as his friend walks aimlessly to the place where his home used to be.


“Men of Ravenscrag! Here me Men of Ravenscrag and gather for the ‘Thing’.” The voice that booms out is that of Ranulf Strongarm one of the Old Jarl’s Husecarls, one of his most trusted warriors.

This should have been an exciting time for Varghoss, for he is a boy no longer, but a man full grown, and as such entitled to speak, and take part in the ‘Thing’. There is no Joy in his heart as Varghoss walks to his first meeting of men.

Are you still playing eletronically?

The above were split from [TRoS] The saga of Varghoss Redbeard. Continue and enjoy!

Best,
Ron

Sigurth wrote: Are you still playing eletronically?

Well things have slowed down in two ways. First me and the player are both busy in RL (always a pain) and for this reason we've moved the game to Rondaks Portal (which is by the way a very good place to play online). This move has slowed things down further.

Secondly the first two sessions were very high paced with Varghoss and the other residents of Ravenscrag wading hip deep in Cymri blood. Now thing have slowed as we enter a more political/emotional phase of the story.

I'm a bit concerned that I'm doing to much storytelling but Varghoss's Player seems happy enough with the way the game is running. Besides I've needed to cover some of this ground to set up later play that will I hope engage his SA's more directly. I suppose some expostion is always neccerssary. This is where online play is lacking all this could be handled a lot quicker face to face.

Still Varghoss will soon be offered the chance of a duel which should make him (and his equally blood thirsty player) happy. Though it will be a toughter fight than the warm up combats against the Cymri peasants.

As Varghoss makes his way to the gathering of the clans men, Goodrun the Jarl's mother stops him. She has the Young Jarl on her hip and the wolf cub in tow. The Wolf cub nips at Varghoss then cocks his leg and starts to piss on Varghoss's ankle.

Varghoss doesn't register this though, as he his transfixed by Goodrun. Her eyes look into his, her hand rests easily on his shoulder, he can smell her heady fresh feminine scent as she leans in close and speaks to him, with her low, languid, sensuous voice.

“Varghoss, the Thing is a place of men, but I must have a voice there. For the sake of the Jarl, for the Sake of Ravenscrag. Will you support me in this?”

“You know I will do anything I can? What is it you ask of me?”

"I must speak at the Thing. Some may oppose this break in tradtion, but the new Jarl must have a voice at the Thing, and this voice must be mine. I do this for the sake of our people."

Her eyes are wide and she bites her lip in trepidation.

"When I interupt the Thing will you support my bid to heard by the men?"

“ I will!” Says Varghoss, his voice louder and keener than he would of wished.

“If need be I will be the voice, if it would lighten the burden for you. What do you intend to declare? So i may be best prepared for their arguments.”

Goodrun’s laughter is light and bubbles like a brook, she smiles at Varghoss and his young heart begins to beat faster.

"I will speak for myself, you need only support my right to speak. You are too kind Varghoss, your family has already given up much for the Jarl, and for Ravenscrag, you will not go unrewarded."

Varghoss joins with the men of Ravenscrag for the Thing. It is a sorry sight for there are very few men of Ravenscrag left.

Gathered in the circle are Varghoss and his friend Farlan. A few youths gather round Varghoss. Flat-faced Snidil and a couple of his followers, including the giant Sarund, who is big even by Varghoss's standards. Lastly there is Ranulf Strongarm, another huge bear of a man. Normally bluff and jovial, today he and his followers look grim.

As he looks across the circle of gathered men Ranulf warily eyes the sly Snidil and his followers. Being the oldest and most senior Ranulf steps forward to start the Thing, you can see Snidil is not happy about this and feels it should be his Job as cousin of the Jarl and a noble, but tradition decrees the most senior warrior holds forth in the Thing.

Ranulf clears his throat and starts to speak.

"Men of Ravenscrag, I Ranulf Strongarm of Ravenscrag do hereby..."

His gruff voice trails off into silence, there are audible gasps from the gathered men as Goodrun carrying the young Jarl on her hip strides into the centre of the knot of gathered warriors. She stands in the circle facing Ranulf who just looks at her unsure, not knowing what to do or what to say. The wolfcub trotts over and sits infront of her and the boy who giggles and reaches for the cub with a chubby hand.

A sharp and sour voice cuts through the silence. It is Snidil.

"What is the meaning of this woman." He says placing particular distate and emphasis on the last word.

"Can't you see we men of Ravenscrag are gathered in the Thing."

His followers grunt and mumble in support of him.

Goodrun turns to face Snidil and is calm in her response.

"Men of Ravenscrag I would speak to you."

"It goes against all tradition." Spits Snidil.

Now Ranulf speaks, "Let her speak, she speaks for the Jarl."

"I should speak for the Jarl." shouts Snidil "I am the oldest male of the family."

Ranulf's face flushes in anger "You forget yourself boy!"

The gathering soon degenerates as the two men and their followers trade insults and quips.

The young warriors gathered near Varghoss seem unsure what to do, some sidle off towards Snidil's faction others towards Ranulf, but most stand closer to Varghoss forming a tight knot of young warriors.

As the shouting continues, Goodrun turns to face Varghoss, her eyes imploring him to act.

OOC:Ok So Varghoss speaks up and at this stage I award him 1 SA in both Destiny and Conscience.

Next he has the choice which 'mission(s)' he wants to take, the espionage (root out the traitor) diplomacy (visit the allies and bolster some support), trade (gather the supplies needed to build the palisade), or combat (lead a revenge raid against a Cymri settlement).

He can do one, all, or none of the above, his choice (I'm guessing knowing the player he'll be keen for the raid first and foremost).

First though lets see how he reacts to being insulted in an attempt to draw him into a dangerous duel.

Varghoss a sense of his own destiny in the air, examines his conscience, conquers his natural terse nature, and speaks his first words as a man of Ravenscrag.
“Silence!” His voice cuts through the raised and angry voices silencing them all.

“The Jarl needs a voice, and Goodrun deserves to be his voice as his closest kin.” He turns to look at Snidil Flat-face, “No matter what tradition says.”

The young men around him gather closer and raise their voices in support of Varghoss, his confidence bolstered he continues with his speech.

“Too many good people, both men and women have been lost to us these few days, let us not lose any more by fighting among ourselves. We need to discuss many things here at the Thing let us not fight over every petty point. Long live the Jarl.”

The young men around him cheer and chant -let her speak, let her speak- so to do Ranulf’s supporters. Realising it’s going against him Snidil try to turn things round by appearing to remain in control.

“Speak then woman,” he says disdainfully as if granting a favour whilst Ranulf’s men and the younger men jeer and taunt him and his faction.

“I thank you my most noble cousin,” says Goodrun bowing to Snidil. When she rises there is steel in her eyes and in her voice, she looks at no man, yet talks to all.

“Once we were the greatest strength on the Savaxen Sea’s, our ships the fleetest, our crews the fiercest, our black sails feared by all. But no more, our strength is spent our power broke. We have been betrayed and nearly destroyed.”

She looks around the circle, letting these hard facts filter through to the now silent men.

“We we’re arrogant, believing no one could strike at us here on this island protected by our fleet. Now our fleet is but some few ships. Never again will we be taken like this for if we are it shall be our death. My husbands wealth, all of it I pledge to build a great palisade around our settlement and we will never be unguarded again. What’s left will go to hiring Stahlish swords, our very survival may yet depend on the blades of our distant Stahlish cousins.”

The men mutter and grumble but even the most idealistic see the reason in this.

“We must also have allies, messengers must be sent to friends of old and to the enemies of our enemies.”

The men nod, and voice their ascent.

“One of our Savaxen cousins has betrayed us, one was here with the Cymri, I doubt he was a Kingsman, the King needed us with a strong fleet, one of the other islands has betrayed us. Our loss of strength will be their gain with the king. We must root out the traitor.”

The gathered men growl and shout in agreement.

“Last of all we will have blood for blood, weak as we are we will strike at the Cymri, and teach them that no man of Ravenscrag dies without sending ten of his foe’s to feast with the dead.”

At this last the men cheer, even Snidil and his supporters. When the cheering dies down, Goodrun departs carrying the young Jarl on her hip. The wolf cub trots over to Varghoss. Ranulf and his followers disperse, Snidil and his faction hang back, watching as the young men laugh and congratulate Varghoss.

Varghoss notices Snidil Flat-Face and his men looking over at him, one of them the giant Sarund looks mockingly over at him and says in a voice a little too loud.

“He follows her like his pup does, maybe he want’s to get between the pup and the young Jarl and suckle on the bitches teat.”

The young men around Varghoss gasp in shock, and look to him expectantly.