NorseQuest: Collective Edition (Group-Based Xianxia Settlement-Builder) Original

NorseQuest: Collective Edition (NQCE) is an experimental riot-like quest heavily inspired by quests like Magna Graecia. In NQCE, a small fleet of Gutes fleeing the destruction of Gotland find themselves thrown significantly off-course by a freak, once-in-a-lifetime storm. Landing on the shores...

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KreenWarrior said:

Ivor Lindholm and Njall Ulfson come back to camp. Ivor bears the body of some strange small mushroom-headed creature with large eyes, and Njall bears a large club made of iron. Both have a look of exhaustion to them, and an expression on their eyes of wonderment, a mix of fear and exhilaration.

Ivor has never had an opportunity to earn distinction before, nor to proclaim his deeds. But that is not to say that it is not something he has practiced in his head before a time or ten. After taking a moment to catch their breaths (and letting people gather to hear), Ivor strides into a clearing, planting his feet and puffing out his chest. He calls out, "Fellow Norsemen! We come bearing strange tidings, the only kind that this land seems to offer! Njall and I travelled north and east, in hopes of finding plants or animals that might help improve our village! We found neither, but we found a great deal else!"

"Our first encounter was with, of all things, a giant-sized sauna, like the Finns make! It was constructed of stacked stones, twice the size of any Norseman's dwelling. Beside it was a giant club of solid iron," Ivor gestures at Njall's burden, which is as tall as a Norseman, "and a set of armor likewise sized." He pauses for dramatic effect. "We never saw the inhabitant of this sauna fully as we did not wish to gaze upon an unwilling maiden, giant or otherwise, but we conversed with her from afar. Her hand was sized to fit the building, and the skin on it was red. She somehow spoke our tongue, or perhaps had some magic that let us understand her, for we had no trouble conversing, though she used a few strange words. However, if she knew our people, it was by a different name - "Norsemen" was strange on her tongue. In the end, she settled on calling us 'muck-afavi'. She confirmed there was a settlement of muck-afavi far to the west, along the coast. She called her people the Onigar, and," Ivor said, "It seems they are a warrior folk as well, for when I told her of the valor of the Norse, she said they would no doubt test our mettle. She spoke of thunder in the distance, and indeed, it crashed while we spoke. She called herself Kesk-Kavar, and told us to shout for her should we wish to find her on the battlefield."

Ivor takes a sip from his flask, staring off into the middle distance for a moment, before resuming. "But that is not the worst of the tidings, for a Norsemen, to find a strong foe is only a promise of ordstirr and Valhalla! No, the true dread came next, for there is no glory in being ground out of existence without a chance to fight at all."

Taking a stick, Ivor drew figures of himself and Njall in the dirt, and then drew a picture of the cave. Primitive though it is, it shows the scale - the entrance is the size of four or five houses stacked on top of each other. "Njall and I found a cave, surrounded by broken trees and tossed aside boulders. We could hear the rumbling inside of a figure of Fenrisian scale. But we knew we could not return without confirming the nature of this threat, and so we moved closer." He sketches a figure there, as best he could. Four bear heads, resting on long, coiling, snakeline necks, attached to some body that the pair had never fully seen. "It is not boasting when I say this creature had the heads of many of the great lizards we saw around its lair, and the beak of one of the Void Eagles as well. Piles of bones littered its lair, and among them, glittered gold, gems and iron."

Ivor cleared his throat. "We knew this beast was beyond us, but we could not simply leave its lair unplundered, because the monster slept. Njall devised a plan using his Kunna to create a carpet of soft moss for us to move on, and we stole on forward. We were able to remove an iron club, like those used by the Onigatar, and retrieved it. We would have sought more, but when I moved to a second pile, I was confronted by a strange creature." He gestures to the corpse. "It was friendly in manner, but bore a brass bell - it was no doubt a guard. I drove a needle through its eye and slew it before it could react, and we retreated before we encountered any other strangeness."

"Or so we thought!" Ivor leaps back to attention. "Upon our return, we attempted to pass through a swamp, which appeared to be full of logs. But it was as strange as anything else in this land of danger. Warned by intuition, we used Kunna to probe the swamp, and found an area that was separated from contact with outside. Njall could not call plants from inside it, and when I threw fire inside the area, it froze. We thought we could simply avoid it, but we soon realized that the strange area must be a cloak for some creature or spirit, because it followed us. Seeing no way to slow an area of stopped time, we retreated so that we could bring our tidings back to those who needed to hear them."

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Alectai said:

Rikard's Expedition Report
Participants: Rikard Villeson, Ragnarr Fair-Spoken, Sigmund Sigurdsson, Agmundr Idskapadr, Amlóði Tooth-taker
​

Brothers! Sisters! Kinsmen one and all! We have returned! Having surpassed the borders of the swamp lands and set foot upon the very precipice of the mountains!

Our expedition began in good order, encountering the sauna employed by the Onigar woman before we chose to veer off in a different direction. It was there that we encountered a herd of Crestheads, warily acquiring their daily drink. We spent some time observing them, and brother Sigmund's description says much about what we learned. No cows--at least as far as we can tell--but we managed to bring one back mostly intact. They may serve as excellent beasts of burden--or barring that, at least a reliable source of meat and hides if we can resolve the issues with the whole latent poison thing. Who knows? Maybe they can even be ridden, certainly they'd be better suited than a Horse in this humid and unpredictable terrain.

Ah, but I digress! The swamp has proven to be something of a conundrum to us. Barring the way to the mountains proper, there appeared no easy way around it, but we came up upon a trick to navigate the region, involving the use of a long stick to probe ahead of us and fording through the shallowest portions. It was there that we learned of the great danger that lurks in the swamp, for we felt ourselves unusually at ease for travelling in such a perilous environment where dangers could lurk everywhere! Cottoning on to the threat from our observations of the Crestheads, I sought to bait it into an attack by throwing a stone--but we did not expect the method of it's effort! The tail of the Cresthead--from where it was carried--had dipped into the water, and we found it solidifying, seeking to drag the Cresthead deep within. We attempted to pull it out, but if anything, the effort only made the grip of the waters tighter! So we severed the tail and saw it disappear into the muck. Dangerous, but so long as one adheres to the shallows and grows extremely wary when they feel most at ease, one can navigate the swamps and pass through to the other side.

There... Well, we got a taste of the things we need. For we encountered nothing less than a quarry of excellent granite being quarried by a band of a dozen Onigar warriors! They didn't seem happy to be there, but we knew little about them and had the Cresthead still to deliver, so were unwilling to engage a force with twice our numbers. Two scented the blood of the Cresthead we had captured though, and one sought to give chase! We led them a ways out before halting to confront the Onigar Warrior. He bid us surrender the Cresthead or die, we refused, and blades were drawn!

And friends, what a battle it was! The Onigar warrior stood twice the height of a man! His weapon--(At this he gestures, and the spiked club is brought out, eliciting an "ooooh" from the crowd)--shattered the firmament and broke the earth! The speed of his blows was breathtaking! But our company had his measure! I stepped forward to lure him into making the first move, and evaded his opening blow! My Frami guiding my legs and spiriting me through the air! Brother Sigmund struck out! Dealing a wound, but found himself countered with a ferocious backhand! Though he caught it with his shield, he was blown back some distance and hurt in spite of it, showing the tremendous strength of the Onigar folk! With Brother Ragnarr playing upon the Onigar warrior's confidence and apparent strength with his Kunna, he allowed himself to take his eyes off of me--and I Struck!, Dislocating its shoulder and exposing its arm for Brother Agmundr to Cleave it off! Iron and muscle and bone sailed away, and the warrior's heart grew to understand he had not reckoned on the strength of the Gutes! (Agmundr reveals the severed arm, a trophy of his own at this, cheers erupting).

The battle was nigh won, as Brother Ragnarr shifted his tone from confidence to deepest despair--I plunged my sword into the Onigar's exposed wound, and struck him dead on the spot! BEHOLD! (With a flourish, Rikard draws the eye of the others to an area slightly off to the side, where a smug badger sat grooming itself below the body of the Onigar Warrior, his brass armor fractured and lacking the arm that was previously shown.)

With his heart pierced, death took the warrior! We granted him what rites and respects we could for such a mighty foe, we met each other by the eyes and understood that though we were born from different parents, our kinship was no less true! So it was that in the eyes of the gods, we swore Blood-Brotherhood to one another! Let all know that we will avenge one another against any who would strike us down!

It was a good expedition, we learned much, and gained much. We have also shown that the strength of Gotland's children is every bit a match for the strength of those who live here! Let our tale inspire all, to understand that it is through our unity and our strength as a people that we will tame this dark land and make it our new home!

GAINS:

Live Cresthead, significant biological data, (Sans one tail, crest broken but retrieved)
1x Onigar Corpse (Intact, heart pierced, arm severed but recovered)
1x Onigar Club (100 pounds of iron)
1x Onigar Armor (Brass Lamellar)
Tactics to traverse the Swamp and avoiding one of the greater dangers there
Knowledge of the location of a significant granite stone quarry (Currently controlled by Onigar)

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Oshha said:

Rikard's Expedition​

Rikard Villeson was their leader, a man with a reaching education and a talent for both grappling and the sword. He was accompanied by Agmundr Idskapadr of a dark past with many hands and swords, Amlodi Tooth-Taker of both wisdom and raiding, Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod and a silver tongue and Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod and Tyr's blood. A hand of five yet to be brothers, seeking both glory and knowledge in equal measure.

Their band of five set off making their way into the jungle hills beyond the cleared lands of the village and into the untamed wilds. They reached the sauna that others had found except for Rikard and his future brothers; it was emptied, devoid of its Onigar occupants. With a variety of choices, the expedition held true to its plan's purpose, heading west towards where mountains lay.

They passed the swamp that other explorers had found. Remembering tales of how it commanded time and chased those who provoked it, the expedition wisely chose to ignore the swamp and avoid poking it lest they incur its wrath. Instead, they headed southwest in search of things that the village could use.

Coming across a small lake fed by a stream coming down from the mountains, the band of five brothers to be discovered the Cresthead. Travelling a large herd of eighteen along the water's edge, the crestheads were half-again as large as a horse in size. While they had four legs, they relied on the powerful hind legs with the forelegs only being there for balance. With a duck-like bill on their faces, the crestheads got their name from the long and sweeping horn extending from the back-top of their head, a shimmering blue to the brown, grey and purple of their bodies.

Eager to have found possible livestock, the expedition attempted to calm the herd for claiming with the emotion kunna of Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod. Yet instead of being calmed, the crestheads were left wary to the surprise of the band of brothers to be. Unable to claim the crestheads as livestock, the expedition chose to stay their hand for now as they patiently followed the herd to gather more information on them.

And information they did find. The crestheads were judged to each be about five or six tons in weight, meaning that their bones had plenty of meat on them. Yet with just how greedily they peeled bark from trees and stripped grass from the ground, it was clear that a farm would struggle to keep more than a couple fed. No milk was produced, but perhaps that might just be the time of year.

In the end, it was their crests that drew the most attention from the band of brothers to be. Vibrating with power, the crests revealed themselves powerful enough to explode a flatsquito that got too close to the herd. Yet this power was not indiscriminate as a pack of spine-rats was able to march past, unharmed by the explosive power of the crestheads.

To test their reaction to emotion manipulation, Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod attempted to invoke wariness in one of the crestheads, to see if their earlier wariness was just that or an opposite of the intended calmness. The former was proven true as the cresthead was left wary for that seemed to be their natural state of being like many of the animals in these unknown lands.

The idea of driving the herd towards the village was raised and discarded. While their meat would be a great bounty and they could be useful as livestock, the danger of a trampling herd was just too great. Especially when the vibration explosions of their crests remained too much of an unknown.

Instead the band of brothers to be attempt to capture one of the crestheads for the shapecrafter. Agmundr Idskapadr skillfully removes the crest of one beast, leaving it toothless and helpless as Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod restrains it with blood bola. The other crestheads flee into the jungle and despite attempts by the expedition to fell at least one more, the rest of the herd gets away.

Content with their prize, the expedition continues onward with Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod volunteer to carry their prize to make up for his inability to contribute with ranged attacks. The band of brothers to be head northward next, running into a swamp that separates the hills from the mountains. Unable to sense any danger or hostiles, the expedition attempts to cross yet they do so with great caution despite the attempt lack of a threat. Using his hand kunna, Agmundr Idskapadr prods the land with a long stick to find a safe path.

As they make their way through, the group finds their wariness turning to happiness and relaxation. The reaction to this is varied as Rikard Villeson prepares to battle with whatever lies below the water while Ragnarr attempts to calm the expedition with his emotion kunna and Sigmund attempts to go back the way they came. In the confusion, the tail of the cresthead sinks into the water of the swamp.

The water solidifies around the tail, holding in place. The band of brothers to be attempt to free the cresthead, but their efforts only cause the unnatural grip of the water to tighten around the tail, striking pain into the cresthead as its tail begins to pop. Rather than lose their prize to a swamp, the expedition resorts to cutting off the tail of the cresthead, allowing the swamp to devour the lost limp while Amlodi Tooth-Taker tends to the injured beast.

On the other side of the swamp, the band of brothers to be hears the sound of stone being struck, a noise that only grows louder as they approach the mountains. Deciding to investigate it, the expedition comes across a stone quarry in the mountains, one manned by a dozen Onigar. With red skin, towering figures of muscles, iron clubs and brass armour, the Onigar haul massive chunks of stone.

Outnumbered more than two to one and weighted down by their captured cresthead, the band of brothers to be argue between a swift retreat, engaging in diplomacy or setting an ambush. In the end, it is decided that discretion is the better part of valour and going further would be unwise and greedy. Their decision comes just in time as the Onigar smell the blood of the captured cresthead and one of them, Karta, sets off in pursuit of the smell.

Noticing that one of the Onigar is tracking them, the expedition chooses to confront their pursuer between the mountains and the swamp in a spot of relative safety from the two dangers. The band of brothers to be try to reason with the Onigar, but Karta is dismissive of them. He rejects their offer of peacefully walking away in favour of killing them to seize the cresthead.

The band of brothers to be fight as one. The least fit to fight, Amlodi Tooth-Taker, takes on the important duty of guarding the cresthead, freeing up Sigmund to fight whilst not risking the escape of their prize during the battle. Rikard Villeson strikes at Karta in melee while Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod supports him. Agmundr Idskapadr attacks Karta with ranged sword-cuts to hinder the Onigar's movements and attacks and Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod strokes Karta's confidence into overconfidence with his emotion kunna whilst strike from afar with his bloodline ability.

Karta doesn't take the band of brothers to be seriously and fails to recognise what a sword is. With a lazy strike that breaks the sound-barrier, the Onigar strikes at Rikard Villeson, leaving a crater where the Norseman stood as Rikard Villeson barely escape the blow. Yet Karta isn't able to follow up on the vulnerable Rikard Villeson as Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod comes to his fellow Norseman's aid.

Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod carves through the armour of the Onigar with his blade yet it does little to hinder the Onigar as Karta backhands the great-grandson of Tyr. A backhand that shatters the shield that Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod raises to block the attack and the arm holding the shield, knocking Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod into the ground. Yet the Onigar is once again unable to take advantage of the vulnerable Norseman as Rikard Villeson comes to the aid of Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod just as his brother to be came to his aid.

Wrapping himself around the offending limb of Karta, Rikard Villeson heaves and yanks the arm out of its socket, exposing its tendons to Agmundr Idskapadr. Agmundr Idskapadr doesn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity, spectral hands wielding blades that remove the arm from the body of Karta, much to the shock and horror of the Onigar.

The band of brothers to be prepare for the next part of what they expect to be a dangerous and gruelling fight. Agmundr Idskapadr goes to work removing the armour of Karta as pieces of brass fall to the ground while Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Jarnblod switches from using his emotion kunna to invoke confidence to invoking terror whilst moving in to strike at Karta with his spear. Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod heals his arm with an Aspect and draws as a second shield as he moves to support Rikard Villeson once more.

The leader of the expedition prepares to mount the Onigar once more, using his sword to vault up Karta so he can reach the neck and strangle the monster. Yet the plan fails in the first step as Rikard Villeson stabs his sword into Karta where the Onigar's missing arm once was. Instead of creating leverage to claim the Onigar, Rikard Villeson accidentally pierces Karta's heart. The Onigar is slain, collapsing to the ground, surprising all five Norsemen who expected more of a fight.

The battle won, the expedition decides it is time to go home yet there is one last thing to be done. Bonds of brotherhood have been forged over the expedition and now it is time to finalise them as Sigmund Sigurdsson of Jarnblod raises the question of it they wish to become brothers in blood.

"I, Rikard, son of Ville, Swear that these men before me are my brothers. I will avenge them as if they were my own."

"I, Sigmund, son of Sigurd and of Clan Jarnblod, Swear that these men before me are my brothers. I will avenge them as if they were my own."

"I, Ragnarr Fair-Spoken of Clan Jarnblood, swear that these men before me are my brothers. I will avenge them as if they were my own."

"I, Agmundr Idskapadr, son of Erlendr, swear that these men before me are my brothers. I will avenge them as if they were my own."

"I, Amlodi Tooth-Taker, swear that these men before me are my brothers. I will avenge them as if they were my own."

One by one, a palm is cut and blood flows freely, mixing into the ground. Each Norseman reaches forward, gripping the spear with their hands and stirring the blood until it is done. Five blood-brothers return home from the expedition of Rikard Villeson, carrying loot aplenty in material, glory and knowledge alike.

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