The sun's golden-orange glow shines out over the evening horizon. Every cloud in the sky turns a shade of brilliant yellow, pink, and orange as the sun slowly dips behind far away hills.
It is under these colorful rays that an iron-feathered raven leans over a slab of cut stone. In its beak it holds one of its feathers, which it uses to carve runes into the smooth surface.
"Alright," Aki says, wiping sweat from his brow as he pulls his raven away from his handiwork, "all it needs now is to be colored and we'll have our defusing script." Taking the feather from his raven, he offers it to you on an open palm. "As being a woman means that you're inherently more magical than Stigr or I, it would likely be best if you did the honors."
"And because you're Steinarr's daughter." Stigr adds, bow in hand as he watches the men digging holes with slight jealously in his gaze.
"That too," Aki says, nodding along as you sigh
Carefully — more out of concern for Aki's safety than your own — you take the razor-sharp feather from Aki's patient palm. Breathing in, you close your eyes and place the blade against your palm. Breathing out, you drag the edge across your hand, leaving a warm trail of red in its wake.
Pain stings as warmth pools in your hand. Wincing, you hurry and smear the wound across the waiting runes, filling every nook and cranny with your blood. Finishing the job, it starts to glow with a soft, pleasing-to-the-eye light.
"With this," Aki says as he scoops the slate up and brings it to the scorn-pole, "the security is disabled."
He touches stone to wood and both sets of runes flash bright red as they rush into battle. Fresh blood meets old paint as the winner is swiftly decided and things are said to decidedly not happen, should the scorn-pole be disrupted.
Aki turns, giving you a grin and a thumbs up, which you return with gusto as you stroll on up to the scorn-pole responsible for your father's current pain. Cracking your knuckles, you focus and steady your breathing.
With all set in place, you hone your anger to a bleeding edge.
This work of nid is responsible for harrying your father. For ruining his grief and turning him into a mere hollow shell of a man. No more shall it harass and pain. No more shall it mar these fields of rolling hills and growing grasses.
Orthstirr swirls about you in a vortex of fiery crimson power as your teeth grind together and anger blazes away in your eyes. You take one stomping, powerful step and let loose your wrath. Like a strike of lightning and the power of a raging god, you drive an empty palm deep into the underside of the skull.
A heartbeat passes in slow motion as the skull sits there. Its empty eye sockets bore through your body, through your very being. Cracks begin to form at a very slow, snail-like pace before a sharp snapping sound rings out and, very suddenly, the bone shatters all at once while leaving the pole itself intact.
Breathing in deep, you wait for the countermeasures to do their work. For something, anything, to happen to you.
After several heartbeats of silence, you allow a smile to pass across your face and your body to slump — an unknown weight having been lifted from your shoulders.
Raising your arms into the air, the cheer that passes through your lips is swiftly joined by six other voices and one raven.
And then the sun fully sets.
And then the troll wakes up.
(Palm-Crush Trick, added to Rough Glima Tricks)
(+1 Hamingja!)
0~0~0
Deep in the bowels of the earth, a snoring, slumbering mound of warty flesh and hairy lumps stirs.
Moss and dirt clumps fall from the troll's body as he rises and yawns, stretching his tree trunk-thick arms towards the earthen ceiling. He shakes his head side-to-side, clearing himself of sleep while sending his jowls quivering to and fro.
Working his mouth, he tastes the dryness of the air and the thickness of his tongue. Shrugging, the troll lights a torch with a surge of magic and a warm breath of air.
Light in hand, he begins to plod his way towards the entrance to his home.
It's not the best of places, but with the housing market like it is in Trolltown...
When that strange man approached him with a deal, a house for a favor, he accepted.
The troll shrugs once more. If all he had to do was allow a scorn-pole on top of his would-be-home — for only a month, maybe two at most! — then he would happily pay that price.
Which he happily did.
Shame for the shmuck who the pole targeted, but in the end it had little to no effect on him so what did he care? He got a house out of the deal!
Exiting the cave, he swiftly discovers why caring about others is generally a good idea.
Not that trolls ever really understand things like that.
0~0~0
(Hugr (Tactics): 3, 6, 6, 4, 5, 6, 2, 4, 1, 3) 12 Successes
You and the rest of the band stand atop the hill overlooking the pitfalls. The troll, a mountainous, mushroom-covered, beast of a being, lays at the bottom of the one immediately outside the cavern. He lays atop a bed of iron spikes, each one punching a new hole through his body. He's not dead — trolls are *extremely* resilient! — but he's certainly incapacitated for the time being. With their proclivity towards rapid regeneration, he'll be right as rain as long as he gets out before the sun rises in the morning.
The trick to fighting trolls is, and always will be, catching them in sunlight. You can't kill a troll, not without truly absurd strength, but you can trick them into the sun, where they turn to stone and suffer true death. Their skin is very tough, meaning that mundane strikes have little effect. They are strong, which allows them to deal extra damage on hit. They are, however, not the brightest of minds and will often fall for seemingly obvious tricks.
The troll is damaged, but will heal if given the chance. He isn't able to move or do much of anything, but he can still use his inborn, instinctive magic. His goals will be to get out of the hole, figure out what the heck is happening, and then do something about the situation — in that order. He plans to act with extreme violence both to himself, thanks to trolls having no sense of pain, and to others, thanks to trolls having no sense of empathy.
Your band is right as rain and full of vigor. They look to you for guidance.
-Gabriel (Armed with Wanderlust and wears Knightly Armor)
-Stigr (Armed with Shivershot, the bow, and two arrow sheaves. He also has a spear and shield)
-Abjorn (Armed with Avow and a shield)
-Stigmar (Armed with sword and shield, as well as a sax he picked up in Asvir. Wears a set of short-mail he purchased in Asvir)
-Sten (Armed with sword and a free hand for hugareida. He wears a set of mail he forged as well as a helmet)
-Aki (Armed with axe and shield, as well as his Sword Raven)
Endurance: (5/5) | Armor Health: (8/8) | Shield Health: (NA)
Orthstirr: (230/230) | Odr: (8)
( ) Frami: 77 | ( ) Virthing: 77 | ( ) Saemd: 76
Sagaseeker has 8 orthstirr in its reservoir.
You can put 30 points of orthstirr into your combat pool
Your combat pool is 11d6.
!!The Troll is twice as strong as you!!
What do you do?
[ ] (Plan Name)
-[ ] (Dice) Attack
-[ ] (Dice) Defense
-[ ] (Dice) Intercept
-[ ] (Dice) (Trick) (Orthstirr)
-[ ] Tactics Write in
0~0~0
AN: I've given you a free rough trick in glima as a reward, as well as a point of hamingja. Glima is nice because you can't really lose the ability to do it like you can with weapons being taken away.
I'm pretty sure I've got some math wrong somewhere, so please let me know if I have.
25-minute moratorium.
