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Hey everyone, welcome to this quest.
This is a short one-shot quest set in the ASOIAF universe, in the region of the North.
The year is 298 AC, and you are Hallis, no last name, a young smallfolk peasant in a tiny village near the Last River.

This will be a fairly short quest, and I expect it to conclude within this thread itself. I will be using the SIFRPG mechanics for the quest, and a Best of 3 system. The character has already been created and I don't expect any experience to be given out. I will also not be using the house creation or management rules for obvious reasons.

The guide can be found here: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1gieuIrCoHbYbWdm-BNFQQW_ruLlMTdVu (Thanks Boggs)

Alright then, I hope we all have some fun! I will be posting the MC's character sheet below.
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“Alright, then. Which one is it?” You give your sister an expectant look as she stares at the three cups laid out on the table with an intense gaze. The small hall of your house is empty for now, except for you too. Bright light shines in through the windows, and the air is unusually warm. Your father told you that the summer might last for a few more years.

After a few moments of thinking, her grey eyes acquire a bright gleam, and she jabs a finger at the cup in the middle. “This one”.

“Are you absolutely sure?” You drag out the last word with a smile, trying to rile her up some more. But she’s too impatient after losing half a dozen times, and lifts the cup herself. There is nothing beneath it, of course, and you give her the widest smirk you can.

“No! It’s supposed to be this one!” she shrieks. Just as she’s about to lift the other cups in her frustration to find the pea, you stop her.

“Uh..uh.. not before you pay the fee. One copper star per guess.” Kyra growls not unlike a wolf and goes to retrieve her last coin from this month’s allowance. The jig is about to be up, best put a stop to it, you think, and put away the cups. You roll the pea between your fingers, and eat it before your sister returns.

“There”, she says, depositing the coin in your palm. “Now tell me how you do it”.

“That’s going to cost more than a copper star,” you laugh, “much more.”

Another bestial growl. Gods! Have you finally pushed her over the edge with your tricks? You hope not.

“Sod your game. Sod you. Sod it all! I’m going to the woods to collect some flowers for making dye. I won’t be back before evening” She says, and goes to the kitchen to get her basket. She works as an apprentice for Briony, the seamstress in your tiny village. Apparently, she’s branching out into dyeing too. Good for her.

“Get some eucalyptus leaves if you find them on the forest floor, would you? Your father’s knees are aching again.” you hear your mother say as they both come out of the small kitchen into the hall.

“I heard that” your father rasps as he noisily shambles out of his room, a little unsteady on his legs. He uses the walls for support and sits down with you on the table. “Kyra, I know your excuses, don’t think I was born yesterday. You’re running off with Gareth again, the miller’s boy. Beron found you both behind the mill, you know? The nasty bugger. Said if he hadn’t arrived to stop you, you would have given Gareth your virtue in that alley, if you still had it. You know how much embarrassment I had to suffer because of you? Of course you don’t. And now you’re off with him again!” Your father is wheezing by the end of his rant, and you move to support him.
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Your sister, on the other hand, has gone completely still. Her face looks red as a tomato, and if the topic wasn’t so serious, you would have burst out laughing at her expression. After a few moments of indecision, she settles on yelling “It’s none of your bloody business!” and running out the door.

Your mother sighs dramatically and approaches the table, giving your father a few pats on the back to settle his breath. “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if Gareth and Kyra wed, Warrick. He’s the miller’s only son, and sure to inherit after him. Gods willing, he’ll be the village alderman like his father too. He could provide a better life for her than we ever could. You know that.” She says.

It’s true, you think in your mind. Your father used to be a miner in the iron mine a little ways away from the village, but the last ore vein dried up a few years ago, and the mine was shut down. Since then, your father has tried to get by as a lumberjack, but his heart’s clearly not it. His back has started aching terribly too, and gets worse each year.

As for you, you have become a good hunter at the age of eight and ten, if you say so yourself, but game around the village is of the smaller variety, and there’s not much coin to be made hunting wild hogs and rabbits around here. Tommard, the miller, on the other hand, is the richest among your village of a hundred souls, and is the village alderman besides. If Gareth succeeds him in both positions, it could be the best thing to happen to Kyra.

Your father replies to your mother after his breathing becomes stable again, “That’s only if he weds her. Once I was a boy his age too, Myriam, and trust me when I say there’s only one thing on mind of boys that old, and it ain’t some vows.” You look down at your feet as a blush blossoms on your face. Oh, how right he is… “And then there’s the miller. He’s a gods’ damned miser, and wouldn’t spend a penny more than he absolutely had to. I know he mixes sawdust with our grain; I’ve heard the others talk. And he’s already talking about selling his daughters to nobles with too many titles and too little coin. With a man like that, how can I trust his son to be honorable and do right by Kyra?” He asks.

“And what of you Hal? Do you support your sister fooling around with this boy?”

What do you reply?
>I support them courting each other, although I would tell them to hold off on fooling around before marriage. Gareth is a proper lad, and like mother said, he’s the best Kyra could hope for.
>No, father, you’re right. Boys like him get off on their father’s power, and he could take advantage of Kyra and then leave her behind. It’s best we tell them both to break it up.
>Write-in
>>
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Leaving the vote open overnight. I'll be back tomorrow.

Here's Hal's character sheet. You have one (1) destiny point to avoid bad ends. Use it wisely.
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>>4560019
>I support them courting each other, although I would tell them to hold off on fooling around before marriage. Gareth is a proper lad, and like mother said, he’s the best Kyra could hope for.
I can't wait to get raped by wildlings or turned into a wight.
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>>4560019
>I support them courting each other, although I would tell them to hold off on fooling around before marriage. Gareth is a proper lad, and like mother said, he’s the best Kyra could hope for.
>>
>>4560019
>>I support them courting each other, although I would tell them to hold off on fooling around before marriage. Gareth is a proper lad, and like mother said, he’s the best Kyra could hope for.
>>
Just another QM note: I tried writing it in the voice of the smallfolk in the ASOIAF universe, but it got annoying even before the first update was finished. A whole quest of garbled speech sounds downright terrifying, so I'll apologize if my peasants sound like nobles. I'll try to use simple words where I can.
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>I support them courting each other, although I would tell them to hold off on fooling around before marriage. Gareth is a proper lad, and like mother said, he’s the best Kyra could hope for.

"I worry about her too, father, but I’ve seen Gareth grow up alongside me. He’s a good lad as far I’ve seen him. A bit lonely mayhaps, his father never allowed him to play with us boys, and surrounded him with those guards. But I’ve never seen him hurt another, man or beast, never seen him yell even, and there haven’t been any girls in his life before Kyra as far as I know. And like ma says, he’ll give her the best life anyone can in this village. Besides, we’ll still be here to set him straight if he doesn’t!”

Your father deflates a bit, still not wholly convinced, but seems thoughtful. Your mother sees a bit of hope and latches on to it, saying, “And you know how our Kyra is, headstrong girl like her, like as not she’s the one leading him around by his leash. Do you really think our girl will allow a boy to take advantage of her? She’s like to take your axe and chop his stones before she lets that happen to her.”

You wince while imagining the picture your mother painted, and then all three of you burst out laughing. The mood lifts, and you strike the iron while it’s hot.

“It’s a done deal, then. I’ll go find Gareth and tell him to find his courage to ask you for Kyra’s hand in marriage. And stop fooling around until they’ve said their vows. Though like as not, it’s Kyra’s doing.”

Your mother takes over from there and you take your leave from your parents and head out, your trusted blade in your belt. It’s sunny out in the open. Uncomfortably so. You don’t remember your first winter much, on account of being three namedays old, but you reckon it doesn’t itch as much in winter…
You gaze at the surroundings, your house being at the outskirts of the village. The mill and the meeting square form the centre of the village at the top of a gentle slope, with shops and artisan’s workshops being arranged in concentric circles around it. The houses are situated on the outer circle, and farms stretching beyond. Dense woods surround the village on the Southern and Western sides.

You weigh your options and decide to head over to Quentyn’s Alehouse, the only tavern in the village located on the Eastern road from Karhold. That’s where Gareth’s most likely to be these days, along with either of his guards. The miller is the only man rich enough in the village to afford his own guards, and he keeps two of them.
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>>4560228
The smell hits you even before you open the doors, strong alcohol. Hmm.. someone’s starting early today.. You enter the tavern and observe the scene before you.

There’s a strange man at the counter talking in low tones with Quentyn, the barkeep and owner of this place. He wears a dark and heavy cloak despite the blazing sun outside, and you can see a sword at his hip, castle-forged, it looks like. There’s Barth, the woodworker, talking to another man you recognize as the merchant who passes through the village occasionally. Lastly you spot your friends Owen and Torrhen in the corner. Owen looks like he’s already had a few mugs of ale in, and Torrhen is making eyes at the barmaid. Neither of them has noticed you yet. Typical.

You see no signs of Gareth, though. Who could you approach about finding Gareth? There’s Barth, the woodworker and his merchant friend. Barth’s shop is near the mill, he may have seen Gareth. It’s also possible that he passed through the tavern, and the barkeep might know where he went next. Lastly, you think amusingly, your friends, Owen and Torrhen. It’s unlikely they know about Gareth’s whereabouts, but you could catch up with them, and find Gareth afterwards.

Who do you approach?
>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger
>Barth the woodworker, and his merchant friend
>Your friends Owen and Torrhen
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>>4560232
>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger
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>>4560232
>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger
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>>4560232
>>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger
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>>4560232
>>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger
>>
>7 votes all by different IDs
I hope this isn't one anon fucking with me. It's still early in the thread so I'm optimistic that these are all players, and thank you guys for participating. I'll disallow 1 post by this IDs and linkbacks by new IDs in important votes, so lurkers should keep that in mind, get some votes in early. I'll pick this back up tomorrow morning, vote will remain open until then.
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>>4560232
>>Your friends Owen and Torrhen
>>
Alright, this looks unlikely to change. Locked in.

Give me 3 rolls of 5d6 (4D+1B in awareness (notice)). I'll continue in about 6-7 hours.
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Rolled 2, 5, 2, 3, 4 = 16 (5d6)

>>4560539
I'm a sad phone poster op so my id usually changes every three hours.
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Rolled 1, 3, 6, 4, 4 = 18 (5d6)

>>4560539
>>
Rolled 6, 4, 6, 6, 1 = 23 (5d6)

>>4560539
Ere we go
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>>4560641
Nice. High numbers are good, right? Never played the GoT RPG
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>>4560644
Oh yeah that's very good. The result is 22, the lowest dice is dropped because it's a bonus dice.
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>>4560314
Fingers crossed my IP doesn't shift on me.

>>4560641
Nice
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>Quentyn the barkeep, and the stranger

Awareness Check: Rolled 22, DC: 15, 18, 21, 24 High DC due to Naive trait.

You decide to approach the barkeep first. Gareth spends his time at the alehouse in the mornings these days, it’s possible he went through here first. The stranger seems interesting too, maybe you could learn something new. As you draw nearer to Quentyn, it is immediately obvious that he’s nervous, wiping sweat off his brow with a cloth. He’s talking fast and in hushed tones, and his eyes are downcast. Time to rescue the man, you suppose. Your arrival is a surprise to both men, both turning around in surprise when you yell out a “Good morning”.

The stranger’s hood shifts back by the sudden motion and you can see his face clearly. Beneath the cloak he’s wearing hard boiled leather dyed black. He has curly brown hair and dim brown eyes. His eyes scan your face, then widen in surprise, fixated at your own eyes.

“You.. you..” he stammers out, and by his action you can see that his mouth is full of rotten teeth, and a foul stench assaults you. You have to work hard not to scrunch your face in disgust, and address the barkeep instead.

“Hullo Quentyn, everything alright? I was looking for Gareth, you know, had some business to talk to him about. Have you seen him here today?”

Quentyn wipes his brow again and haltingly speaks, trying (and failing) to pretend that this is normal behaviour, “G-good morning to you too, Hal! Gareth, you say? No, I don’t think I’ve seen him h-here today. Must be wandering off today, usually he’s here by this hour.”

Well, that’s disappointing. Still, something about the stranger’s demeanour has set your alarm bells ringing. “And who’s this over here? Won’t you introduce yourself, man? I’m Hallis, and I hunt in the surrounding woods.”

The stranger has had time to compose himself and close his mouth, and thank the Gods for that mercy. He waits for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours all the while, then grunts, “Hother”. Then he nods and repeats himself, “Hother, yes. Well met Hallis. I am a sellsword on my way to Winterfell, hoping someone in the royal party hires me on. Just passing through here.”

“Royal party in Winterfell? Why would the King come up here?” you are puzzled by his words.

“Who cares, some business with Lord Stark, I presume. All I know is that the King is coming with all his court, and there’s opportunity for those seeking it.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “You said you were a hunter? If you’re any good with a bow, mayhaps you could join me?” He looks clearly hopeful. Too hopeful, in fact. “Leave this little village behind and explore the world. Being a sworn sword to a lord pays good coin, and they’re always surrounded by comely maidens. What do you say?” He grins, but it only exposes his rotten teeth once more.
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>>4560839
He’s trying too hard to sell you on this idea for a man who you’ve just met, and you came to the alehouse for a different purpose. But he does have a castle-forged sword on his hip, and you don’t know how badly he would take a rejection.

How do you reply to Hother?
>Yes, an adventure sounds good, I’ll accompany you to Winterfell and we’ll find some work together.
>No. I’m sorry, we have just met, and I’m not ready to leave my family behind.
>I still have some work in my village to see to. Go on ahead and I'll meet you in Winterfell.
>Write-in

If you say yes, you'll have time for 1 more interaction at the alehouse.
>>
Did I blow it with those options? You're welcome to ask questions if anything's not clear.
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>>4560843
>No. I’m sorry, we have just met, and I’m not ready to leave my family behind.

>>4560956
No, I've just seen the update. Although being recruited on the third post is pretty sudden.
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>>4560843
>No. I’m sorry, we have just met, and I’m not ready to leave my family behind.
This man give me the heebies
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>>4560843
>No. I’m sorry, we have just met, and I’m not ready to leave my family behind.

Personally, I probably would choose the deflection of meeting him at Winterfell, but a flat rejection is alright as well.

Anyway, is anyone else getting Night's-Watch-Runaway vibes from this guy? Between the hard boiled black leather and the castle-forged sword, it is raising some alarm bells from me.
>>
Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Persuasion (Charm). DC 12 for not angering him with your rejection.
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Rolled 2, 1, 5 = 8 (3d6)

>>4561036
>>
Rolled 2, 3, 6 = 11 (3d6)

>>4561036
>>
Rolled 5, 6, 6 = 17 (3d6)

>>4561036
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>>4561036
Can we also ask where this fellow thought he recognised us from? Clearly our face reminded him of someone.
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>No. I’m sorry, we have just met, and I’m not ready to leave my family behind.
>Persuasion (Charm): Rolled 17, DC 12, Two degrees of success

It’s not a difficult choice for you to make, but the threat of him taking offence gives you pause. You eye your friends in the corner, if this Hother drew his sword, they’ll come to your aid without question, and Owen likely has his dirk on his belt. Could this man alone beat the three of you? You could not tell his skill with the sword from just a glance, but it’s a risk you’d have to take. You didn’t want to go anywhere with this man, and definitely not on a whim.

“Slow down, man! You’ve only just met me, and you’re asking me to leave my family behind on the word of a stranger. You see how that looks when you see it my way? I’ve got my ma’ and pa’ to care for, and a sister who’s yet to marry. I can’t just up and leave them without some guarantee. Besides, I have enough work here to live comfortably. Why do you want me to join you so badly?”

The man’s expression becomes increasingly sour as you say your piece. Well at least it matches his breath now, you think. He did perk up a bit when you mentioned your sister. Fuck! You shouldn’t have mentioned her at all. Your father did always tell you that you run your mouth off without thinking. You’ll have to appease Hother somehow. He doesn’t appear to be keen to answer your question.

“Look, I’m just a game hunter, alright? I’m sure there’s plenty of difference between hunting beasts and hunting men. Beyond that, we both know archers are paid much less than swordsmen, so I have much less to gain than you if I pledge myself to a lord.”

He pauses to consider this and doesn’t seem to have an answer, and after a few moments grunts a non-committal “Alright.” He turns back to his yet-untouched mug of ale and starts drinking slowly.

You don’t know if it is a good idea to push your luck right now, but his reaction to seeing you earlier makes you uncomfortable. So you ask him about it. “Say, Hother, have we met before? You looked startled when you saw me, as if you recognized me. I’m sorry if we’ve met and I don’t recall you.” You plaster a smile to your face to appear as friendly and non-threatening as possible.

He turns back to you, a bit more slowly this time, his gaze drawn to your eyes again. “It’s nothing to worry about, Hallis. You look a lot like someone I know, a… friend.” He nods his head again, “Someone I was not expecting to see here. That’s all. Go on ahead, I’ll buy you a drink on me, for taking up your time.” He motions to the barkeep, and Quentyn hands a mug of ale to you, still nervous, but less scared than before.

You accept the mug and look around the alehouse, a few more villagers have walked in and occupied a table in the center. Barth’s merchant friend seems to have left, and he’s moved to the table with your friends.
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>>4561541
That decides it for you, and you stride purposefully to the table in the corner and flop down next to Barth, opposite your friends.

“Hal! You’re finally here! I was wondering how long you were going to ignore us.” Torrhen calls out after the round of usual greetings. So they did notice you. “Who were you talking to at the counter?”.

You reply in as low a tone as you can manage, “Some creep, called himself a mercenary heading to Winterfell, looking to work for the King or some such. Didn’t look like an honest man to me. Asked me to come with him to Winterfell when he saw me, as if I’d leave my family behind to go with a man I’d just met.”

Barth answers you, “Well the part about the King is true at least. My friend was just giving me the news from down South. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, is dead. So the King is heading up to Winterfell with all his court, and the rumor is that he intends to make Lord Stark his hand. It’s a great opportunity, I don’t think this many Southern lords will grace the North again in my lifetime.” He’s unable to contain his excitement at this point. “I’ve asked both my sons to stop working on everything else and focus on making trinkets and baubles for the nobles. I’ve heard that’s what these visiting nobles do, buy a trinket to remember the place by, and I intend to make a profit! I was just asking Torrhen here about any trophies he collected from his hunts. You won’t have any, would you Hal? I’ll pay you good coin for anything I can work with.”

Your greatest hunt so far has been a small bear, and you made a necklace out of its claws, but that was a gift to your sister on her last nameday, and not something to be sold. So you answer with a shake of your head.

Barth doesn’t seem too bothered by the news. “No? Well that’s too bad. Alright boys, I’ve got to be going. More work to do, more coin to be made. And Torrhen, I’ll give you the rest of the stags when you bring that boar’s head to my workshop. The Gods watch over you.” He looks happier than a man on his wedding day at this point, and quickly takes his leave.

You turn to Torrhen, “So, silver stags, huh? Last week’s haul was that good? Someone’s going up places.” You tease. He’s a hunter like you, and five years your elder. When you were a child, you pestered him into teaching his craft to you, and now you bring in as much as him, sometimes even more.

Torrhen tries pretending that he’s not extremely pleased by the sale, but a grin breaks out and the two of you break into chuckles. Owen’s still deep into his cups. “Yeah, Barth wants to make something out of the tusks of the boar. This week has been spectacular, I didn’t have to go far into the forest, either. It was like something was driving the animals into my arms. Got some rabbits and a couple wild pigs too. I’m going to take them to the butcher after this, you want to come with? I know you’re sweet on Beth.”
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>>4561542
You blush up to your ears at her mentions, and try to change the topic before you make a mess of yourself. “And what’s up with you Owen? What’s got you so glum and drinking this early?”

Owen looks up from his mug, clearly not sober. “Just the harvest coming in, it’s mindless work, cutting those crops, over and over again. I feel like my brain’s going to rot from the repetition, and my back hurts like hell. The Gods didn’t send me here to become a farmer, Hal.” He says, then glances at the counter again, where Hother is just getting up and ready to leave. Owen sits up a little straighter, and asks you,

“Hal, you said that man was a mercenary heading to Winterfell? To sell his sword to the King? You think he’ll take me?”

You have to resist an urge to smack Owen behind his ears. “Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s … odd. Something tells me he’s not one for honest work. And why would he take you, anyway? You know how to handle a weapon besides your sickle?”

He mutters a weak denial and looks back down into his cup, chastised. You decide to take some pity on him.

“Forget about him, did any of you see Gareth this morning? I’ve been looking for him. Damn, I forgot to ask Barth about him, too.”

Torrhen gives you an amused smile, “Yeah I saw him, just before I came here, he was heading towards the forest, without either of his guards too, now that I think about it. Why? You want to talk to him about your sister?” He grins. You groan, it looks like everyone in the village knows. All the more reason to talk to him earlier.

But if he was heading to the forest without his guards, he was definitely with your sister. Did you want to interrupt him and your sister together? You didn’t want to catch your sister in a … compromising position. The sound of the tavern door closing reminds you of Hother. He seemed a shifty type, maybe you could follow him, see what he was up to. Lastly, Torrhen asked you to help him take his haul to the butcher. Beth was there, maybe you could get a chance to talk to her. Your ears turn pink even thinking about her.

Where do you go next?
>Follow Hother to see where he goes and what he does
>Go to the forest and find Gareth and your sister
>Go with Torrhen to the butcher’s shop

Leaving vote up overnight, I'll continue tomorrow.
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>>4561543
>>Go to the forest and find Gareth and your sister
>>
>>4561543
>>Go to the forest and find Gareth and your sister
>>
>>4561543
>Go to the forest and find Gareth and your sister
>>
>>4561543
>Go to the forest and find Gareth and your sister
>>
Alright, this seems pretty one-sided. You guys are really paranoid, huh.. Well then, here's another decision playing into that:

Do you take your padded armor and bow with you into the forest? At present you have your common stiletto with you.
>Yes
>No
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>>4561726
>Yes
We might see some game too
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>>4560314
ASOIAF quests are popular!

>>4561726
>Yes
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>>4560956
And speaking from experience, first updates of the day take a while to get votes. Once people see that you're active, they'll be more likely to check often.

It's tough to "blow it" with vote options, too-- people just have to pick one, if they don't like it they'll write in. The tricky ones are when it's write-in only, because that provides an actual barrier to entry that might prove to be too high.

(If it wasn't clear I come from the QTG.)
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>>4561726
>Yes
>>
>>4561726
>Yes
Honestly, when presented the option with no opportunity cost or complications, why wouldn't we take our padded armor and bow into the forest?
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>>4561819
You don't have the bow and the armour right now with you, you'd have to go to your house to retrieve them and put them on, giving your quarry a slightly larger lead on you.
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>>4561819
>>4561824
I didn't make that as clear in my post asking for votes. Sorry about that, I'll leave the vote open for a while in case anyone wants to change their mind.

In the meantime, give me 3 rolls of 5D6 (4D + 1B in Notice) and 3 rolls of 5D6-2 (4D + 1B in Track -2 due to terrain). The next update will be in 7-8 hours.
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Rolled 2, 2, 4, 1, 2 = 11 (5d6)

>>4561843
>>
Bump. I still need these rolls: >>4561843
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Rolled 5, 3, 6, 2, 4 = 20 (5d6)

>>4561843
>>
Rolled 5, 5, 5, 1, 1 = 17 (5d6)

>>4561843
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>>4561968
Hmm, that was supposed to be 5d6-2, can the qst dice roller not do that?
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>>4561970
You have to use '+-' when you want a negative modifier. So 5d6-2 becomes 'dice+5d6+-2'. You can roll again, I'll count your first roll for the Awareness roll.
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>>4561976
Oh, I didn't see this >>4561966. No worries then, I'll do the calculation myself. I'll get the first part of the update out in the meantime, while we're waiting for the rolls.
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Beth.. You’re going to have to meet her some other day, you think sadly. If Gareth was heading into the forest with just your sister, they didn’t plan on remaining chaste. You promised your pa you would put a stop to all of that before they got married, and you had to see your word through. You just hope you don’t catch them with their pants down. That would be… awkward, to say the least. You’ll make sure to call out their names loudly to alert them beforehand.

Coming back to the conversation with Torrhen, you reply, “Aye, something like that. I’m already dreading it, though. He must have waited for my sister, and she left not an hour ago, so they must be close. I’ll catch them before they get frisky. Gods, this is going to be painful.”

Your friends look more amused than anything at your misery. Even Owen cracks a smile. Torrhen counters, “Relax, Gareth’s an alright lad. The miller’s only son, too. Quite a catch for your sister, not that she isn’t a catch herself.” He amends quickly, at your reaction. He turns a bit serious then. “If you’re going to the forest, take your bow with you at least, mayhaps your padded armor too. Like I said, something has been pushing all sorts of beasts in our direction from the South and West. They’d be foolish to head deeper into the forest, but if they do, it’s better to be prepared.”

That’s good advice, and you trust Torrhen about the dangers of the forest. You nod your assent to his suggestion and finish your ale quickly.
“Gods willing, I’ll find some game to sell back to Barth on my way, too.” You grin at your friends as you head out, trying to convince yourself that this won’t be as unpleasant for all sides involved as you’re imagining it to be. Quentyn is nowhere to be seen, and the barmaid is serving the villagers at the centre table.

As you head out back towards your home, in the opposite direction of the forest, you see no sign of Hother, the stranger. Must have moved quickly, that one. You reach your home quickly and enter, meeting your mother in the hall.

“Back so quickly, Hal? Did you talk to Gareth yet?”

Your father appears to be in his room, so you speak quietly, “No. He went to the forest without his guards. Likely with Kyra. After what I promised to pa’ today, I better stop them before they do something foolish. I’m here to collect my bow and armour, Torrhen says there’s more beasts in the woods this week.”

Your mother gives a heavy sigh. “Don’t tell your pa’ why you’re going. He won’t like that. And Hal? Don’t be too harsh on them, please? They’re only kids, they don’t know what’s good for them.” You murmur your agreement to your mother and go to your room.
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>>4562050
Your “armour” is nothing more than layers upon layers of rough cloth, batting stuffed in between, and quilted together. It covers only your chest and your shoulder, but you need every advantage you can get when you’re out hunting. It saved you from a bear’s claws, and that’s good enough for you. Your bow is a common longbow, almost as tall as you, with a heavy draw. It was gifted to you by Torrhen when you felled your first stag. You take your time to put on the armour, strap your quiver holding a dozen arrows to your back, and leave your room with your bow in your left hand.

Your father’s out in the hall waiting for you, “Going back hunting already, Hal? We still have some meat leftover from your last catch.”

You don’t look your father in the eye when you lie to him. “Aye, Torrhen said there’s more game in the woods this week. And Barth is offering silver stags for things he can make trinkets from.” Your father nods and hums, not saying much.

Just as you’re about to head out, you decide to ask your father about something, “Pa, you ever know a man named Hother? Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and mouth full of rotten teeth?”

Your father thinks on it for a moment, then says, “No, I can’t say I’ve ever met such a man. Why?”

“He was in Quentyn’s Alehouse today, talking with the barkeep in hushed tones, all shifty-like. When he saw me, he became startled, and kept looking at my eyes. Told me I reminded him of a friend. He even asked me to leave you behind and go with him to Winterfell, to sell our services to a lord. Can you believe that?”

Your father looks at you sharply, and bites out “You told him no, I hope?” At your affirming nod he heaves a sigh of relief, and continues, “Good. I can’t say for this Hother, but over the years some guards on patrol have looked at me funny when they noticed my eyes. I don’t know why, but I’ve learned to keep up my hood and lower my head whenever I see a man in armour, you’d do well to do the same.”

So he’s had to go through this too? What a strange occurrence, you think, as you bid your parents goodbye once again and leave for the forest, their calls of “Stay safe!” ringing behind you. You shared your eyes with your father, and they were.. captivating, if you could believe your mother. Greyer than Kyra’s, closer to white, with specks of blue like ice in winter. Your mother told you that girls found that alluring, so you felt a sort of unearned pride in that.

They were unique in one other regard; you could see more clearly at night and in darkness than most others. That’s what made you such a good hunter, allowing you to hunt at night with ease, when animals went to sleep and let their guard down. It’s what kept your father’s vision intact even as he grew older, while the eyes of others who worked in the mines grew dim as they aged.
>>
>>4562052
Such musings keep your mind busy as you make your way to the forest. It’s almost high noon now and they have somewhat of a lead on you. You begin calling out “Kyra!” and “Gareth!” loudly. There is no response, so you move a little deeper into the forest, South and West away from the village. After a quarter hour with no sign of them, you give up. You’ll have to do this like one of your hunts, then. Find some tracks or leads and follow them to the absconding couple. You grit your teeth. This is really not what you wanted to do today.

________

Give me 1 more roll of 5d6 for Awareness (Notice) and 2 more rolls of 5d6-2 for Survival (Track)
>>
Rolled 2, 5, 5, 4, 2 = 18 (5d6)

>>4562055
>>
You should roll for the rest yourself QM to keep up the momentum.
>>
>>4562105
Only two people have rolled so far, I was hoping for at least one more.. I have some work to do today anyway, the next update should be in 7-8 hours.
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 2, 6, 5 - 2 = 13 (5d6 - 2)

>>4562055
>>4562108
Really enjoying the quest so far QM, good writing. Keep up the good work. Word of advice from one QM to another: it might be better to do all the rolls yourself and only give the players written choices, especially if you're not doing live sessions. Dice slows things down unnecessarily. You might also want to break up your posts with more votes and make each choice in the vote clearly demonstrate some kind of loss/gain or risk/reward. That way we can make more informed decisions and debate the choices a little. Otherwise, so far, every vote has felt like a non-choice: either it's really obvious what we should choose (stay w/ family vs. leave them behind) or it's hard to tell what's different about the the choices (who to approach at the bar). Adding why the PC would consider a choice is a good way to differentiate between them and indicate the loss/gain involved.

Also I haven't read the books or seen the show--can anyone tell me what the eyes mean?
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>>4562172
Thanks for the advice, and thank you for playing! I'm trying to ensure that I ask for votes in my downtime so I don't wait while writing, and at the same time players have more interaction with the quest. Rolling is one of the most fun parts in quests for me, so I didn't want to deprive my players of that.

As for the choices, I'll try to make the risk/reward clearer. So far I've tried to list the differences between the choices in the paragraph before the vote, keeping the options concise. I'll switch that to mention the risk/reward more clearly in the choice itself if that's better for the players.
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>>4562172
>>4562187
For the record: I agree with giving options clear reasonings, but partially disagree with keeping all dice rolls QM-side. People's reading comprehension is unfortunately limited, and having the pros and cons in the option itself (even if they're reiterated) is the only way to guarantee they get considered. As for rolls-- 6 is too many to leave up to players, it should be 3 max. For something like this >>4562055, I'd either have players roll 3x 10d6 and calculate the totals yourself, or have players roll 3x 5d6 and roll the other 3 yourself. Rolling all the dice yourself, though, kills a lot of fun and tension.
>>
>>4562187
I would definitely switch them, since it's not always clear what a particular choice entails even if its hinted at in the text.

As for rolling, to each his own, but personally I've only found rolls enjoyable when there's something big at stake (i.e when we know what the consequences of failure are and that it's going to hurt). Doing routine perception checks and such are OK for a tabletop but for a quest I'd much prefer choices.

Just one anon's opinion though.
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>>4562200
And by >>4562055 I mean >>4561843, sorry.

I can understand >>4562202 this perspective-- in my opinion, a roll should move the action forward even on a failure. So a roll to dodge a sword swing: success you get an opening, failure you get hit, fine. A roll to spot something: success you spot something, failure... nothing happens. It's not engaging.

I disagree with the notion that there has to be something big at stake, though. It doesn't have to be big-- it just has to affect the story (and/or mechanics) moving forward.
>>
>>4562200
>>4562202
>>4562208
Thanks, and I'll consider all of these. I'll mention the consequences or risk/rewards in the choices where possible, and do simple pass/fail rolls where the degrees of success don't matter in the background.

I'll need one last roll of 5d6-2 for now though. The degrees of success on this test determine the amount of time it takes you to find the couple.
>>
Rolled 1, 5, 4, 1, 2 - 2 = 11 (5d6 - 2)

>>4562231
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I forgot that the modifier applied to the Survival test was also to be applied to the Awareness test. So subtracting 2 from the awareness tests.

Identifying the tracks - Awareness (Notice). DC: 12, Rolled:
>>4561871 8
>>4561966 16
>>4561968 14
>Success!

Following the tracks - Survival (Hunt). DC:12, Rolled:
>>4562057 14
>>4562172 12
>>4562234 10
>Success! One degree. You follow the tracks for two hours.

Alright, that will do it for me. I'll use the top awareness vote for another test I was going to ask rolls for, because this was just a pass/fail test without degrees of success. I'll have to do some planning for the next scene. I'll try to get in an update later tonight. Latest by tomorrow morning.
You were right to be paranoid.
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You backtrack to the woods nearest to the village and try to find a fresh trail from the most likely point they would have entered. At the end of the day, it was not much different from finding a trail left by an animal, although people didn’t drop shit once in a while from which you could confirm how old the trail was. It does not take you long to find the tracks coming from the village. Two sets of footprints, one heavy and made with studded boots, the other lighter, almost invisible, following behind. It’s them alright.

You keep your ears peeled and follow the trail carefully. If they’re at it, you want to be alerted from far enough that you can call out their names loudly so that they have time to be presentable. The trail is not difficult to follow, leading you deeper and deeper into the forest. It’s clear that they were trying to put as much distance between them and the village as possible. The path is familiar to you, after all you had been hunting in these woods for more than 10 years now. About a quarter of an hour into your tracking, you notice another set of prints, four-legged and light, coming from behind the pair of footprints you were following.

From then on, the footprints become deeper and more far apart, as if they were running. Or more likely, being chased, you think with a frown. Gods, what a mess these two had gotten into! You send a quick prayer above for their safety and follow along the trail as fast as you can. It takes you almost an hour, with the tracks twisting and looping around multiple times. It looks like Kyra and Gareth tried to throw off their pursuer, but it caught up with them every time. Definitely a hunting dog, you think. Torrhen used to have one, and it was incredibly useful at picking up smells and trails. Finally, you can hear something, and you increase your pace. You know there’s a clearing up ahead, a pond where animals come for water at night.

Just as you’re about to break the treeline, you hear voices. Of multiple men, and there’s a dog barking wildly. There’s a familiar girl’s voice too. Kyra! You decide to survey the scene before jumping in wildly. What you see makes your blood boil. Your sister is held at knifepoint by a short, dark-haired man in dark robes who has scars around his mouth. He’s holding a dagger to your sister’s neck, and trying to lower her dress with his other hand. You see red, and your hands start shaking. You want to kill that man for laying a hand on your sister. It is only your long-honed hunter’s instincts that stop you from rushing out and giving away your advantage.
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>>4562544
The voices are clearer now, and you can see Gareth holding out his sword and waving it at the men, panic on his face and his voice hoarse from shouting. He’s also in normal robes. You don’t remember how trained he is with that sword, but you pray to the God it is enough for what’s coming next. The apparent leader is fair haired man with a boyish face, wearing hard boiled leather dyed black like Hother back in the village. There’s a whip at his side, a long, tapered, flexible length of leather attached to a handle. He leans down to pet the snarling dog, saying

“Good work Helicent, we were worried for you, wondering where you’d run off to. Poor Ben has probably ground his teeth to dust by now, worrying for you. And you brought us something to play with! Good girl. I’ll tell boss to give you the first bite.” He says, looking appreciatively at your sister. The fucker!

Lastly there’s a man of average build and average height, wearing soft leather armour, and holding his sword out to match Gareth’s movements. He shouts out to the others, “What do you think boys? Should we kill him now and be done with it, or take him alive and make him watch?” He laughs. Suppressing your urge to kill these men is getting harder by the moment.

You survey the scene one last time before making your move. You can trust Gareth to aid you if fighting began, but you do not know his skill with the sword. You have three options before you: You could start firing arrows from your current position, gaining an advantage of being hidden. The men are about 20 yards away from your position, so you could fire two arrows before they caught up to you. But there’s a man holding a dagger to your sister’s neck, you have no idea what he would do if they came under fire. Would he slit her throat first to be free to attack you? Gods, what a wretched thing to think about.

You could also approach the men openly, try to talk them down and let your sister go. It would be difficult, to say the least, and you don’t have much diplomatic skills to speak of. But it could distract the men enough for your sister to have a better chance at breaking free and Gareth to get a hit in, or not. You would also lose your advantage of being hidden, and would likely have to fight with your stiletto instead of your bow.

Lastly, you knew the clearing was egg-shaped, more long than wide. The men and their beast were closer to one side than the other. If you could skirt around the edges of the clearing to the other side, you would have around 50 yards of breathing room before they could get to you, allowing you to fire up to 3 arrows before they engaged you. You would also retain your advantage of being hidden on the first shot. At the same time, if the men escalated in their back and forth, fighting could break out before you were in position, and your sister would be even farther away should you need to help her.

You only have a moment to decide. What do you do?
>>
>>4562549
Opposing side:
>man in soft leathers with a sword
>man in hard leathers with a whip. He looks the most dangerous
>man in robes holding a dagger to your sister’s neck
>a hunting hound

Your side:
>You, in padded armour holding a longbow and a stiletto
>Gareth, in robes holding a sword
>Kyra, in normal clothing, with no weapons. She will make an Agility (quickness) test to disarm her captor if the opportunity arises

Options:
>Start firing from your position. +1B on your first shot, +1D if you succeed a Stealth (Sneak) test, you can fire 2 shots before engaging in melee.
>Try talking them down. You will have to roll Persuasion (Convince) with DC 15. If you succeed or fail by less than 3 on your roll, Kyra will have a bonus to her roll to break free. If you succeed, Gareth will have a bonus on his first attack. You will have to fight with your stiletto.
>Skirt around the edges to the other side of the opening. +1B on your first shot, +1D if you succeed a slightly harder Stealth (Sneak) test, you can fire 3 shots before engaging in melee. Will be away from Kyra if she needs help. Fighting may start before you get in position; in which case you will lose your +1B on your first shot.
>Something else (Write-in)

Needless to say, this is an important vote. You can find your stats here for easy use. >>4560020
You have one destiny point to avoid your own death, but all other characters can die. Feel free to ask questions. I'll leave the vote up overnight, picking this back up in 10-12 hours.
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>>4562556
>Start firing from your position. +1B on your first shot, +1D if you succeed a Stealth (Sneak) test, you can fire 2 shots before engaging in melee.

Shoot this guy first
>man in robes holding a dagger to your sister’s neck
Then the dog, so our sister can run and get help.
>a hunting hound
>>
My ID seems to have changed. No more formatting in this thread, I guess. Sad, I'm not even a phoneposter.
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>>4562556
Can we hit the hand that's holding the knife so he drops it and our sister has a chance to get away? If so:
>Start firing from your position. +1B on your first shot, +1D if you succeed a Stealth (Sneak) test, you can fire 2 shots before engaging in melee.

We're better at marksmanship than persuasion so I think that's out. Running around puts us out of danger but too far from our sister and since we have plot armor (via DP) better us than her.
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>>4562574
With Marksmanship 4, you're not good enough to target the hand specifically, not when you have the danger of hitting your sister. You'll aim at his body, and if you succeed, your sister will gain a bonus to her roll for breaking free, scaling up with your successes.

Also, Piercing damage lands on at least one degree of success, regardless of armour. So If your main attack has at least one success, but does not manage to get past the enemy's AR, you'll still do piercing damage. The same is true for your opponents too, though.
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>>4562574
Also, the "plot armour" by using a Destiny Point means that you surrender instead of dying, and are taken captive. Which might be worse than just dying, in this quest, if you've caught on.
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>>4562556
>Skirt around the edges to the other side of the opening. +1B on your first shot, +1D if you succeed a slightly harder Stealth (Sneak) test, you can fire 3 shots before engaging in melee. Will be away from Kyra if she needs help. Fighting may start before you get in position; in which case you will lose your +1B on your first shot.
>>
>>4562556
>Start firing from your position
>Aim for the man in hard leathers

>>4562574
>>4562568
I really think aiming for the man who is holding our sister is too risky. We're only marksmanship 4, there's a risk of both that we'll hit her and that he'll slash her throat with the shock of being shot. If he even just jerks his arm as he stumbles back then we're to blame for our sister's death.
Plus, the man in hard leathers looks like the leader and if we can take him out then I reckon there's a fair chance we can intimidate the other two into fucking off.
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>>4562636
Ok changing target to whatever this guy said.
>>
So the next session is going to be rolls-heavy, and I want to be well-rested for that. I also need to go over the combat section of the rulebook again. So I'm thinking of picking this up in 8-10 hours and going "live" until we finish the fight or at least a few rounds of combat. I'll allow players to roll more than once per test if we're waiting too long for a roll.

In the meanwhile, vote on the first target:
>man in soft leathers with a sword
>man in hard leathers with a whip. He looks the most dangerous
>man in robes holding a dagger to your sister’s neck
>The hunting hound

This vote is still open: >>4562556
>>
>>4562874

Kill boss first, demoralize enemy. He is not wearing any helmet right?
>man in hard leathers with a whip. He looks the most dangerous
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>>4562874
>man in hard leathers with a whip. He looks the most dangerous
First the leader so they lose coordination.
Second the guy holding our sister.
Guy holding a sword may be a good second because don't think the millers boy can sword fight. The guy with the knife has our sister but while he's busy he can't fight.
Hunting hound will try to chase us so maybe a third.
>>
I'll clarify some mechanics:
The presence of your sister gives a +5 to the Combat Defense of the man holding her. If you miss completely, i.e. don't get a single degree of success, the arrow/attack hits your sister instead.

>>4562884
Whether or not he wears a helmet has no effect on the damage calculation. Where the arrow/attack hits the person on the body is mostly a matter of flavor. If you fail the roll, I'll say you missed, if you succeed and cause an injury, I'll say it hit in the arm, if you cause a wound, I'll say it hit the thigh and pierced the bone, etc. You get the idea. Having a helmet on doesn't make you stronger or weaker as per the mechanics.
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>>4562636
>>4562884
>>4562885
>man in hard leathers with a whip. He looks the most dangerous

Alright then, let's get started. Since the sneak rolls are standard pass/fail with no degrees of success, I'll do them myself, same for initiative.

Give me 3 rolls of 6d6 for marksmanship (4D + 1B Bows + 1B Aim + 1D Sneak Attack -1b Training). And good luck.
>>
Rolled 5, 5, 1, 3, 3, 1 = 18 (6d6)

>>4563067
If they kill our sister, we will hunt them to the ends of the Wall and beyond.
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 4, 3, 5, 5 = 26 (6d6)

>>4563067
>>
Damn, must be a slow day. I'll wait 10 more minutes for another roll (you can roll again if you have already), otherwise I'll roll myself. I do want to get at least some of this fight done today, because I'm busy tomorrow and might not be able to update.
>>
Rolled 6, 1, 6, 5, 5, 6 = 29 (6d6)

>>4563067
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>>4563212
3 sixes. 2 Fives. Nice
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>>4563212
Fucking nice. I was just about to hit 'Post' on my roll too, anon. Great. Writing! Update in 30-60 minutes.
>>
The crunch is taking more time than I expected, I'm still rolling, haven't started writing yet.
>>
Order of Initiative: Hallis -> Grunt -> Kyra -> Gareth ->Man with the sword -> Helicent -> Damon
------
Round 1
------
Hallis Stealth test – DC: 14, Rolled 15. Success! +1D on first attack.

--- Hallis Sneak Attack (Longbow) ---
Rolled 28 vs Combat Defense: 8
Four Degrees of Success
5 Damage x 4 = 20 Damage
20 Damage – 3 Armour = 17 Damage
9 Health – 17 Damage = -8 Health
*3 Injuries Taken*
17 Damage – 9 (3x3) = 8 Damage
9 Health – 8 Damage = 1 Health
*Piercing 1 activated*
1 Health – 1 Damage = 0 Health
*1 Wound taken*
1 Damage – 1 = 0 Damage.
1 Health – 0 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Damon Damaged
Injuries: 3/3
Wounds: 1/1

--- Grunt Attack 1 ---
Rolled 19 vs Combat Defense 5
Three Degrees of Success:
3 Damage x 3 = 9 Damage
6 Health – 9 Damage = -3 Health
*2 Injuries taken*
9 Damage – 4 (2x2) = 5 Damage
6 Health – 5 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Kyra Damaged
Injuries: 2/2
Wounds: 0/2

--- Kyra Action: Getting Free (Lesser Action) ---
Rolled : 14 vs Grunt’s Roll: 11
Success! Kyra frees herself
--- Kyra Action: Move (Lesser Action) ---
4 yards moved; distance from Grunt: 4 yards

--- Gareth Attack 1 ---
Rolled 19 vs Combat Defense: 10
Two Degrees of Success.
5 Damage x 2 = 10 Damage
10 Damage – 2 Armour = 8 Damage
9 Health – 8 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Man with the sword damaged
No injuries or wound available

--- Man with the sword Attack 1 ---
Rolled 22 vs Combat Defense: 11
Three Degrees of Success
5 Damage x 3 = 15 Damage
15 Damage – 1 Armour = 14 Damage
9 Health – 14 Damage = -5 Health
*2 Injuries taken*
14 Damage – 6 (3x2) = 8 Damage
9 Health – 8 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Gareth Damaged
Injuries: 2/3
Wounds: 0/1

--- Helicent : Sprint (Greater Action) ---
20 yards moved, distance closed to Hallis: 0 yards

--- Damon: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
16 yards moved; distance closed to Hallis: 4 yards
>>
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>>4563335
Your hunter’s instincts would tell you to take a deep breath and relax, and consider your options carefully. Weigh the benefits and downsides of every choice, and pick the best option. But then the man holding your sister pushes his hand into her dress, fondling her breasts, and the decision is made even before you can think. You anger boils over, and there’s nothing that can stop you now. There’s no time for slinking over slowly to the other side of the clearing, and there is no time for bandying words, certainly not with these animals. It is time for butcher’s work.

You nock an arrow and draw the string, using all your strength and anger to pull the string back farther than you ever have, tighter than you ever could. You only have a moment to aim. The man holding your sister is out of the question, you can’t risk accidentally hitting her. The fair-haired man looks like the leader, perhaps if you felled him first the others would scatter. You take aim at him and loose, your arms aching from the effort you put in. The arrow flies straight and true, and punches right through the man’s leather armour. It strikes him in the centre of his chest, below the heart, and comes out his back. He lets out a pained gasp, then all hell breaks loose.

You yell out a bestial roar in triumph, giving away your position, and move to nock another arrow, determined to finish them all for daring to hurt your sister.

Meanwhile the man with the sword shouts, “Damon, no! Helicent, girl, after him, now! Grunt, gut the bitch and help me kill this ponce!” He moves to engage with Gareth, trading blows. Gareth is better with the sword than you expected, dealing cuts and slashes all over his opponent, even managing to nick his face. The other man has been properly trained though, and his skill shows. His sword bites deep into Gareth’s ankle, and he slashes Gareth’s elbow next, taking advantage of his distraction.

The man with the whip, Damon, miraculously does not go down. He follows the sound of your yell and locks eyes with you. He’s bleeding from his mouth and an arrow is sticking out of his back, yet he runs towards you. Perhaps it is shock dulling his pain, perhaps the Gods themselves are giving him strength, but you can only watch with disbelief as he runs towards you, the hound running ahead of him.

Your sister’s cry draws your attention to her. She has managed to free herself somehow, running away from the man holding her, Grunt, all the while sobbing uncontrollably. But he seems to have got a couple swings in, there’s cuts on both of her arms, though you cannot tell how deep from here. You send a quick prayer above to preserve her and give her strength.

You channel your anger into your arms again, nocking another arrow. You no longer have the benefit of surprise on your side, and you only have a moment to make your next move.
>>
>>4563340
Who do you target?

>Damon, the man with the whip. He’s still moving, but he must be on his last legs. You could finish him quickly before he attacks you
>Helicent, the hound. She’s almost upon you now, and you know full well how dangerous hounds can be. You also have an advantage attacking animals
>The man with the sword. He’s also badly damaged, but he could kill or maim Gareth on his next swing
>Grunt, the man with the dagger. He’s hurt your sister, that’s more than enough reason to kill him first. You do not know if he will attack your sister or Gareth next.

You will be rolling with 4d6 for Marksmanship now, having lost both your stealth advantage and your extra time to aim. Since the votes are so far apart, I'll be leaving this up for a fair while. The fight doesn't look like it'll last long, anyway. I'm happy where we're at. The next round will be decisive, whether in your favour or against.

Slight correction in the crunch: >>4563335 Here Kyra only has 1 wound available to expend.
Kyra's roll for getting free had like a 1% chance of succeeding. I'm floored. Her captor rolled a Bo3 too, no less.
>>
Also to be noted, after making your attack next round, you'll be forced to switch to the stiletto while your opponents engage you in melee. You can switch back to the bow if you've dealt with them.
>>
>>4563346
>Grunt, the man with the dagger. He’s hurt your sister, that’s more than enough reason to kill him first. You do not know if he will attack your sister or Gareth next.
The whip man is as good as dead. With the maluses he gets on his rolls he can't do any damage.
>>
>>4563346
>Grunt, the man with the dagger. He’s hurt your sister, that’s more than enough reason to kill him first. You do not know if he will attack your sister or Gareth next.
BLOOD AND THUNDER
>>
>>4563346
>>Grunt, the man with the dagger. He’s hurt your sister, that’s more than enough reason to kill him first. You do not know if he will attack your sister or Gareth next.
>>
I have also read your posts on /qtg/, I think occasional pov changes can help convey the dangers more clearly. But if you really wanted a high lethality asoiaf game, you should've made us a young peasant woman or a tavern wench. They tend to get in danger and die a lot
>>
>>4563346
>Grunt, the man with the dagger. He’s hurt your sister, that’s more than enough reason to kill him first. You do not know if he will attack your sister or Gareth next.
>>
Unanimous vote so far, doubt it's going to change now. Let's see if I can squeeze the next round in today.

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 for Marksmanship (4D +1B Bows -1B Training)
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 5, 4 = 11 (4d6)

>>4563392
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 3, 2 = 9 (4d6)

>>4563392
>>
Rolled 5, 2, 1, 1 = 9 (4d6)

>>4563392
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

This roll determines who Grunt goes after.
>>
>>4563412
Uh oh..

>>4563395
>>4563408
>>4563410
Rolled 11 vs CD 11. Very poor set of rolls. I'll do the rolling for the others and start working on the update. Looks like this might last longer.
>>
>>4563410
>>4563408
>>4563395
Ouch
>>
Order of initiative: Grunt -> Helicent -> Gareth ->Man with the sword -> Damon -> Hallis -> Kyra

Round 2
--- Grunt Action: Move (Lesser Action) ---
4 yards moved; distance from Kyra: 0 yards
--- Grunt Attack 2 ---
Rolled 17 vs Combat Defense 10
Two Degrees of Success
3 Damage x 2 = 6 Damage
1 Health – 6 Damage = -5 Health
*Wound taken*
6 Damage – 6 = 0 Damage
1 Health – 0 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Kyra Damaged
Injuries: 2/2
Wounds: 1/1

--- Helicent Attack 1 ---
Rolled 11 vs Combat Defense 10
One Degree of Success
3 Damage x 1 = 3 Damage
3 Damage – 1 Armour = 2 Damage
9 Health – 2 Damage = 7 Health
Result: Hallis Damaged
Injuries: 0/3
Wounds: 0/3

--- Gareth Attack 2 ---
Rolled 15 vs Combat Defense 10
Two Degrees of Success
5 Damage x 2 = 10 Damage
10 Damage – 2 Armour = 8 Damage
1 Health – 8 Damage = -7 Health
*No injuries or wound available*
Result: Man with the sword slain!
--- Gareth Action: Move (Lesser Action) ---
4 yards moved; distance from Grunt: 4 yards

--- Damon Attack 1 ---
Rolled 15 vs Combat Defense 10
Two Degrees of Success
3 Damage x 2 = 6 Damage
7 Health – 6 Damage = 1 Health
Result: Hallis Damaged
*Hallis has become Entangled, taking -5 to all tests, until he breaks free (Athletics or Agility test with DC 7)*

--- Hallis Marksmanship Attack 2 ---
Rolled 6 vs Combat Defense 11
Attack failed!

--- Kyra: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
16 yards moved; distance from Grunt: 16 yards
>>
File: Hounds from Hell.jpg (49 KB, 563x387)
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>>4563467
Grunt looks back and forth between your sister who’s moved away from him, and his friend asking for his help. Before you can line up your next shot to end his life, he gives a malicious grin and shrieks in an unnatural way, showing that his tongue has been cut out from his mouth. He moves quickly towards your sister and swings his dagger wildly. You despair as you see that he lands a hit, slashing Kyra across her chest. Her dress rips from the middle, and crimson blooms across the front. Kyra gives a blood-curdling wail and runs away from Grunt, clutching her bleeding chest with both hands.

You howl with rage and loose your next arrow at her attacker, but whether it is your anger or the pain from the hound biting your left shin, your aim goes off and the arrow lands harmlessly away from Grunt. You drop your bow and kick the bitch, trying to throw her off, succeeding marginally. Helicent snarls viciously, your blood colouring her teeth. It is a surprise to you when a whip cracks loudly and wraps itself around your chest and upper arms, effectively immobilizing them. You do not know if the whip had thorns at its end, but it certainly feels that way, as your entire upper body screams in pain. Damon smirks triumphantly at you, and speaks to the hound,

“Get him Helicent, I’ll hold him for you. Tear his insides apart!”

From the corner of your eye you can see Gareth finishing off his opponent by burying his sword in his neck, then hacking at it again and again until his foe stops moving. The boy is a lot tougher than he looks, it appears you have all been underestimating him. He runs towards Grunt, next, sword in hand and yelling at the top of his voice to taunt Grunt to face him, man to man. Good, it would give your sister time to run away.

His success gives you courage, and you push against the whip with all your might. Damon must be losing strength by the second, this should not be as difficult as it looks. You let out a loud yell and HEAVE!
___

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6. DC is 12 ( original DC 9 +5 due to Entangled -2 due to Damon's wounds and injuries weakening him)
Also indicate in your vote whether you want to use Lucky if you fail in this test. It can be used once per day and gives you an additional roll.

Use Lucky if test to free yourself fails?
>Yes
>No
>>
>>4563475
>Yes
>>
>>4563486
You can roll and vote at the same time.

I think this was the last update for the night. I have some obligations for Wednesday, so there will be a delay before the next update.
>>
>>4563496
My rolls were shit the last time. I'll give other anons a chance.
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 2 = 9 (3d6)

>>4563475
>No
RAAAAAAAAAAAAGH
>>
>>4563502
It's alright, anon. Everyone's rolls were shit last time. Best of 3 for 4d6 and we roll an 11. This is the stuff of legends.
>>
Rolled 4, 2, 6 = 12 (3d6)

>>4563475
Rolling to disentangle ourselves, right?
If so, yeah, use lucky if needed
>>
That's the required DC. Thank you. You don't need to use Lucky now. I'll forgo calling for a third roll as well.

You are free and have one attack with the Stiletto. You roll 4d6 dice for Fighting. Who do you attack?
>Damon, the man with the whip. He's almost at death's door, and you're certain you can finish him in one strike
>Helicent, the hound. You have a +4 bonus to Fighting tests made against animals
>>
>>4563703
>Damon, the man with the whip. He's almost at death's door, and you're certain you can finish him in one strike
He caused this
>>
>>4563703
>Damon, the man with the whip. He's almost at death's door, and you're certain you can finish him in one strike

Great writing, QM! Just caught up. Odd, I checked the board for new quests a few days back but have missed this one.
>>
>>4563703
>Damon, the man with the whip. He's almost at death's door, and you're certain you can finish him in one strike
Stab the neck.
>>
I'll keep the vote on who to stab open. Meanwhile give me 3 rolls of 4d6.

I'm busy today, but I'll try to get in an update by tomorrow morning.
>>
Rolled 3, 3, 3, 4 = 13 (4d6)

>>4563894
>>
>>4563894
>>
Rolled 6, 2, 3, 6 = 17 (4d6)

>>4563894
>>
Rolled 3, 2, 2, 2 = 9 (4d6)

>>4563894
witness
>>
>>4563898
>>4563945
>>4564024
That 17 should do it. Unfortunately, I was wrong here >>4563703, and you do not have an attack available this round, because the rulebook says that freeing yourself from an entangling weapon is a greater action. What this means is that you will not be able to help the others for another round. I'll use the attacking choice and the roll for the next round. Meanwhile, pray for Gareth, I suppose.
>>
>>4564069
Gareth's a gud boy. If he kills the other guy give him all the permission he needs to marry our sister.
>>
Someone on /qtg/ told me to tone down the mechanics autism, also we have two rounds to get through here, so I'll try to condense it.

Round 3:
Order of initiative: Damon -> Gareth -> Grunt -> Hallis -> Helicent

--- Damon: Action - Hold Entanglement ---

--- Gareth Attack 3 ---
Rolled 21 vs Combat Defense 11, Three Degrees of Success.
5 x 3 = 15 Damage – 1 AR = 14 Damage
1 Injury taken, 12-10= 2 Health Remaining (Grunt)
Injuries 1/4 (Grunt)

--- Grunt Attack 3 ---
Rolled 23 vs Combat Defense 11, Three Degrees of Success,
3 x 3 = 9 Damage -1 AR = 8 Damage
1 Wound taken, No Damage, 1 Health remaining (Gareth)
Injuries 2/3, Wounds 1/1 (Gareth)

--- Hallis: Action - Free from Entanglement (Greater) ---
Rolled 12 vs DC 12, Freed

--- Helicent Attack 2 ---
Rolled 14 vs Combat Defense 10, One Degree of Success,
3 x 1 = 3 Damage -1 AR = 2 Damage
One injury taken, No damage, 1 Health Remaining (Hallis)
Injuries 1/3, Wounds 0/3 (Hallis)


Round 4:
Order of initiative: Hallis -> Gareth -> Grunt -> Damon -> Helicent

--- Hallis Attack 1 ---
Rolled 16 vs Combat Defense 8, Two Degrees of Success
3 x 2 = 6 Damage – 3 AR = 3 Damage
Injuries: 3/3, Wounds: 1/1, 1 - 3 = -2 Health (Damon)
Damon slain!

--- Gareth Attack 4 ---
Rolled 16 vs Combat Defense 11, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage – 1 AR = 9 Damage
Two Injuries taken, 2-1 = 1 Health Remaining (Grunt)
Injuries 3/4 (Grunt)

--- Grunt Attack 4 ---
Rolled 16 vs Combat Defense 11, Two Degrees of Success
3 x 2 = 6 Damage – 1 AR = 5 Damage
One injury taken, 1-2= -1 Health Remaining (Gareth)
Injuries 3/3, Wounds 1/1 (Gareth)
Gareth Slain!

--- Helicent Attack 3 ---
Rolled 14 vs Combat Defense 10, One Degree of Success
3 x 1 = 3 Damage – 1 AR = 2 Damage
One injury taken, No Damage, 1 Health Remaining (Hallis)
Injuries 2/3, Wounds 0/3 (Hallis)
>>
>>4564504
Even weakened, bleeding and on death’s door, Damon does not let go of his grip easily. Helicent sees the opportunity and charges at you, snapping her jaws around your left shin again and again. Although your leather boots prevent her from tearing a chunk of flesh, pain erupts in your leg again. In the safety of your mind you think that even the bear you slayed did not give you so much trouble. These would be worthy opponents to kill had they not been a part of a gang of rapist bandits, from what it looks like.

In the distance, you see Kyra running away from Gareth and Grunt, then crumple to the ground, whether from exhaustion or loss of blood, you cannot say. No! You cannot let her die today, not like this.

Your desperation fuels you as you give up trying to loosen the whip. Instead, you angle your hands outwards and shrug, pushing the rope upwards and freeing your lower arms. You grab a hold of your stiletto, and in one smooth motion draw it and cut the whip just where it wrapped around you. But instead of letting go, you grab the remaining length, and PULL with all your strength. The action surprises Damon, and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, along with the whip, right into your grasp. You take a hold of his neck with your left hand and yank it downwards, using your right to jab the stiletto straight through his eye. You hear a squelching noise as the thin point of the long, slender blade penetrates deeper into his skull and into his brain. Damon jerks wildly but you do not let go, pulling the blade away and sticking it in his other eye. He twitches for a few moments then slumps down, body unmoving and his brains leaking out of the holes where his eyes used to be.

You do not have a moment to celebrate your victory, because Gareth goes down with a pained cry. He and Grunt appear to have traded blows equally, both displaying new injuries, cuts and slashes on various parts of their bodies. Grunt looks like he’s finally taken a beating, and he seems to have lost half his nose. But Gareth had already been wounded in his last fight, and though more skilled than expected, he cannot match up to these thugs who seem to have fought all their lives.

Grunt looms over the fallen form of Gareth, and ends his life with a slash to his neck, turning his head to look at you with a smirk. You wince in sympathy and frustration. You were supposed to scold this boy into asking for your sister's hand today, and now he lies dead in the forest, gone before his time. Grunt looks over the bodies of his fallen comrades, sees Helicent still fighting you, and his gaze finally rests on your sister, who’s still unmoving. Your eyes widen slowly as you realize his intention, and bring all your focus back to the hound growling at you, desperate to finish her off.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Grunt running towards Kyra, Gareth’s sword in his hand, a loathsome leer on his face.
>>
>>4564515
Give me 3 rolls of 4d6+2 (-2 due to injuries, +4 due to the Great Hunter benefit). The faster you finish the dog, the faster you can use your bow to take down Grunt.

Also, I try to reflect the rolls and results in the write-up, and you're free to ignore the crunch in the post above. That's just for the exact number, if any readers have crunch-autism like me.

RIP Gareth. You rolled far higher than I expected.
>>
Rolled 3, 6, 5, 4 = 18 (4d6)

>>4564522
>>
Rolled 3, 5, 6, 2 + 2 = 18 (4d6 + 2)

>>4564522
RIP Gareth
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 1, 3 = 8 (4d6)

>>4564522
>>
>>4564522
I like the crunch, makes me feel more involved.
>>
>>4564630
>>4564643
>>4564645
>20
Alright, I'll finish my food and start writing.
>>
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Round 5:
Order of initiative: Grunt ->Hallis ->Helicent

--- Grunt: Action – Sprint (Greater) ---
Athletics test to sprint faster:
Rolled 18 vs DC 12. Two Degrees of Success
Moved 18 yards. Distance from Kyra: 0 yards

--- Hallis Attack 2 ---
Rolled 20 vs Combat Defense 9, Three Degrees of Success
3 x 3 = 9 Damage
*No injuries or wounds available*
Helicent slain!

---


You have no time to waste. With every passing moment, Grunt gets closer to your sister. You do not know if he’s rushing to her to kill her or carry her with him. You only know that you cannot let either of those things happen. And Helicent is in your way. If you want to deal with her quickly, you cannot wait for her to come to you. Her smaller form and the short reach of your stiletto mean that you will have to take the initiative.

So you leap upon her, blade bared and your free hand closed into a fist. The two of you roll in the ground multiple times, you punching her and stabbing her in the body again and again, and then some more, while she tries and fails to find purchase with her fangs and her paws. You sustain a few cuts and scratches, but ignore them in your rage. When it is done, Helicent lays panting on the ground, her lifeblood leaking out of countless holes in her side. You do not even spare her a second glance, sheathing your weapon and running straight to your bow.

Within a moment, you have your bow in your hand and an arrow nocked. By now Grunt has reached Kyra, and he leans down to pick her up. At least he didn’t kill her outright, you think. But that presents a different problem, could you shoot at him if he had your sister in his arms? What if you missed and accidentally hit her? And if you did not use your bow, you would have to chase him on foot, where your mauled left shin could restrict you. You could track him down, but Damon mentioned a ‘boss’ earlier. How close were the other bandits?

Your forcefully exhale and inhale, trying to calm your fluttering heart. There’s no use worrying right now, there’s only your arrow, and Grunt’s head. You take a few more moments to line up your shot, praying to all the Gods above that your aim is true. Then you loose.

________
Give me 3 rolls of 5d6-2 (4D +1B Aim -2 Injuries) for Marksmanship attack. You need a minimum roll of 11. If Grunt rolls first for initiative, you'll need a minimum roll of 16.
>>
>>4564712

Oh shit, new asoiaf quest? Good luck! Let's hope anon don't kill this one
>>
Rolled 6, 6, 2, 4, 5 = 23 (5d6)

>>
Rolled 1, 2, 3, 6, 4, 6, 5, 4, 3, 4, 1, 2, 6, 5, 5, 5, 5, 1, 1, 6, 4 = 79 (21d6)

Rolling this one in the thread for transparency, because it may result in Kyra's death if you fail your shot. The first 9 dice are your initiative, rolling 3d6 thrice. The next 12 dice are Grunt's initiative, rolling 4d6 thrice. I'll apply the modifiers in the next post to determine who goes first.
>>
Rolled 1, 2, 6, 2, 5 = 16 (5d6)

>>4564712
Take aim......
>>
Rolled 2, 6, 4, 2, 1 - 2 = 13 (5d6 - 2)

>>4564712
NOOOOOOOOO!
>>
>>4564715
Your rolls: 4, 14, 10
Grunt's rolls: 10, 17, 9
So Grunt goes first and picks up your sister, increasing his Combat Defense by 5. You need at least 16 on your roll now.

>>4564714 19
>>4564716 13
>>4564737 12

Which you appear to have got successfully.

So you manage to kill Grunt. Congratulations, your sister is alive, by a hair's breadth. She's literally at 1 Health with 0 injuries and wounds left. Even a single point of damage could kill her right now. In fact, if Grunt was a taller guy, you killing him would have caused her 2 points of fall damage, which would have killed her. Now wouldn't that be ironic?

I don't think I have it in me right now to write more, and I have to think about some future things to set up, so I'll get back to this and wrap it up tomorrow morning. For now, be happy that you saved your sister. This was not supposed to happen. Bless Gareth for his extraordinary fighting and initiative rolls. RIP again.

>>4563864
I missed this somehow, thanks.

>>4564713
Thanks! This is a fairly short quest (probably wrapped up within this thread) and I have almost a month with little work, so I hope I'll be able to see this quest to completion.

Thanks for playing!
>>
>>4564748
Thanks fo running qm.
>>
>>4564748
Maybe something with less crunch next time? e.g. a peasant girl from a large town going about her day.
>>
>>4564925
>>4564932
When I said wrap it up, I meant the fight. There's still much more to go in this particular one-shot. We're about 25-33% in. I've been dropping subtle (and some completely obvious) hints about what's coming next. The pain is not over yet.

On running a crunch-light quest, sure. I have some ideas in my mind, though nothing concrete yet.
>>
>>4564748
Thanks for running!
I don't understand the anal fixation on rpg mechanics used in the quest. They helped direct the flow of narrative and weren't at all cumbersome. Gareth died due to taking more damage than his wounds allowed and our sister survived because we finished every opponent off before her health pool depleted.
We didn't have to count yards to move or vote for each lesser action each round so it was all very reasonable in my opinion.

>>4564964
I'm thinking 'the boss' will make us join him
>>
>>4564968
>I don't understand the anal fixation on rpg mechanics used in the quest.
Sorry, my ESL brain is kicking in, and I can't figure out what this sentence means. I got the rest of the post, that's accurate.

Also my ID appears to have changed again.
>>
>>4564977
I meant to say that I don't understand what's the big deal about mechanics. Some people just blindly hate them it seems.
>>
>>4564984
Actually the opposite: "why autistically hate dice?"
>>
>>4564983
>>4564985
Oh, I get it now. I don't know if you were in the House Malroy and Reynold quests, but the rules-lawyering around the mechanics can get ugly. Especially if the life of the MC is at stake. These people (and the QMs too, let's be fair) have been attached to the character for dozens of threads, and don't want to see him die. Then there's the counter-argument by players who feel that the QM was going too easy on them for this reason, and fudging the rules to let the MC survive. (Which is what happened in Malroy quest, a couple players protested that the QM was going too easy on the protag).

So I can perfectly understand some people's aversion to the mechanics, and I don't blame them for it. It took me a couple months of lurking ASOIAF quests to be familiar enough with the mechanics to make informed votes. I've tried to present the crunch in a clear manner for new players to know what is happening. But I also have a couple things working in my favour.
1)You're not as attached to the characters because this is still 150 posts into thread 1
2)You know up front that this is a one-shot and fairly short. So even if the MC or other characters die, you know there isn't a grand story arc you're missing out on (like completing the revenge arc in House Malroy or getting back your son in House Reynold)

Anyway, I'm starting writing. I have an errand to run in an hour. So if I don't finish the update by then, expect it in about 4-5 hours.
>>
>>4564991
I'm sorry, but the words just aren't flowing today. Maybe because I'm too tired right now. I'll try again tonight, or get the update latest by tomorrow. The quest isn't over yet! There's still some way to go.
>>
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Grunt is the first one to move, leaning down to scoop up your sister. Just as he stands upright and straightens his back, ready to run off into the forest, your arrow finally lands, burying itself in Grunt’s neck. It was a dangerous gamble you took. If he had been any slower, the arrow would have passed harmlessly above his head. You could also have hit your sister. As it is though, he drops your sister back on the ground, clutching his neck with both hands, trying to get the arrow out. He lets out wordless, inhuman shrieks, probably on account of not having a tongue.

You run at a blistering pace towards Kyra. By the time you reach them, Grunt has stopped moving, but so has Kyra. You drop to the ground and pull your sister into your lap, trying to feel her pulse. It’s weak, terribly weak, but it’s there. By the grace of the Gods, she’s still alive! With tears of joy and grief in your eyes, you work on tearing your padded armour into long strips of clothes, separating the layers, and using them to bind Kyra’s wounds, all the while whispering words of encouragement to your sister.. You use the batting from your armour to stop the bleeding from her chest, using lengths of cloth to bind it tight. Then you move on to her bleeding arms.

By the time you’re done, Kyra’s makeshift bandages have already turned a deep crimson, but there’s no further bleeding, and you’re panting from exertion. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you survey the scene once more. It is well past noon now, and the sun is racing towards the West. All of the fallen have stopped twitching or moving at all. Unless they're the greatest mummers in the world, they are well and truly dead.

You think back on Damon’s words about asking his ‘boss’ to let Helicent have the first bite out of your sister. Spitting on the ground in anger, you control your emotions. He’s dead, and you’re still alive. There’s still a ‘boss’ out there, though, and a Ben. And who know how many more. You have to move out of here, you cannot let them get to you, especially not when Kyra is still with you.

You move over to Grunt and turn his body over, taking one last look at the man who dared to touch your sister, and who would have run off with her. His mouth is open in a rictus of a grin in his last moment, as if giving you a parting taunt. You take Gareth’s sword from him, tying it around your waist instead. A pang of guilt hits you, for not saving him in time. You owe his father to return his sword, at least. For good measure, you take Grunt’s dagger as well. It is of a fine make, castle-forged, you think, just like the weapons in the hands of the others. These were no mere bandits, you realize. Either they’ve been extremely lucky in their choice of targets, or, more likely, they have a noble patron.

A question for another day. Right now your priority is getting your sister to safety. You gather Kyra in your arms, and begin your trek back to the village.
>>
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>>4565731
When you pass by Gareth's body, Kyra’s head lolls to the side, and she mumbles some words. When you pay her no attention, she clears her throat, and speak again, weakly, “Hal. We can’t leave Gareth here. Not lying dead in the forest with these brutes. Please, Hal! We have to take him.”

She clenches her arms around you. You’re heartened to see that she’s awake and speaking, but there’s nothing you can do for Gareth. You can barely carry your sister with your busted left shin, carrying Gareth’s body as well will be impossible for you. “I’m sorry, Kyra. But I can’t carry you both. We can’t help him anymore, and we need to get away from here as fast as possible. But we’ll come back for his body, I’ll gather everyone in the village. I promise you that, we’ll come back.”

Your return to the village is much different from your going. Your arms are aching badly from the strain, and your left leg stopped feeling an hour ago, but you’re here, and you’re safe. The orange glow of the sunset frames your return from the forest, and villagers quickly gather round you as you carry your sister to your home. Owen and Torrhen show up, and take over your load, finally allowing your biceps to rest. Their eyes are concerned, but for now they ask nothing and move quietly to your house.

Your mother is standing outside the house when you arrive. It takes a moment for her to realize what she is seeing, followed by a loud shriek. But she does not dwell on it too much, and through her tears she asks your friends to lay her down on her bed. She questions you about where Kyra has been hurt, and you tonelessly give her your assessment from earlier. She orders Owen to call Briony down to the house with her sewing kit, and tasks Torrhen with helping her with the herbs and pastes she has stored in the cupboards.

You realize that the shock which you had avoided so far has finally hit you. The world seems to be floating by, and you cannot hear what’s being said, even though you see the mouths moving. You cannot remember what you just said to your mother a moment ago. Stumbling, you sit down on a chair in the hall, and within moments you are asleep as the day's exhaustion finally takes over.

When you wake up, it’s still dark outside, the hour of the owl, perhaps. You are in your bed, though you don’t remember being brought here. You feel around your body and understand that someone patched you up as well, and put you in fresh clothes. That’s when you notice your father sitting at the foot of your bed, a steaming cup in his hands.

“Chamomile tea”, he says, handing you the cup, which you take gingerly, and start sipping slowly.

“It’s good.” You say awkwardly. There’s so much to be said, and it’s difficult to form words. So you settle on the most important thing. “Kyra, is she-“

“Alive. And recovering. Your mother says she’s lost much blood, but the bandages stopped her from losing all of it."
>>
>>4565738
Glad to see you back
>>
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>>4565738
"She’s giving Kyra something that will help with the blood. Briony patched up the cuts and slashes. She’ll have those scars for the rest of her life, but she’ll live.” Your father relays to you, but he sounds as dead as you did the day before. He's not taking this well either. “Tell me what happened out there, Hal. I need to make sense of this.”

So you do, slowly and haltingly, and lay out the day’s events as they happened. The knowledge of Gareth running off to the forest with Kyra, you tracking their trail, coming upon the bandits, the fight, Gareth's brave resistance and his eventual death, and your return home. He appears sad and angry at times, but does not interrupt you. When you finish, he asks,

“So there’s more of them out there?”

“Yes”, you reply, “at least two. Though there could be more.”

He lets out a deep sigh, “And Gareth?”

You grimace. “Still out there on the forest floor. We have to get him, pa. I promised Kyra we’ll get his body back.” Your father looks mutinous at you going out there again, so you interrupt him before he can say anything. “He was an honourable man, pa. He had a bigger hand in saving Kyra’s life than I did. He could have gotten away when he killed the first man, but he turned around and fought Grunt, so Kyra could run away. He gave his life for her, pa. I would have been proud to call him my goodbrother.”

Your father sees your determination, and gives his resigned acceptance. “Tommard came here after dusk, asking after Gareth. I fended him off then, but he’ll be back today. Someone told him you had Gareth’s sword on your hip.” He looks at you with a question in his eyes.

“Aye, I intend to return it to him. It’s the least I could do after what his son did for us. I’ll gather some volunteers and go back to the forest, and return with Gareth’s body. If there’s enough men with us, the bandits won’t bother us. Mayhaps we could find something of their leader or their hiding place from the bodies of the others.”

Your father knows that it’s futile, but tries one last time to dissuade you from going anyway. “Must you go yourself, Hal? Your leg still needs to recover. Your friend Torrhen knows the forest as well as you. Tell him where to find the bodies, and he’ll lead the others there himself.”

What do you reply?

>He’s right, for now your leg needs to recover. Torrhen can lead the villagers to the bodies. (Lower DC for recovery roll)
>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)

Leaving this open overnight. Resting will be easier for your recovery, while by going yourself you may find something the other don't. Emphasis on 'may'.
>>
>>4565753
If I didn't make it clear enough, choosing No means going yourself (along with some volunteers) to bring back Gareth's body and search the other bandits' bodies. Choosing the first option means allowing Torrhen to do all of that stuff while you recover in your home.
>>
>>4565753
>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)
>>
>>4565753
>>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)
But telling Torrhen the story should be the absolute first thing we do. Man deserves to know how his son died.
>>
>>4565753
>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)
Can't leave his body for the wolves.
>>
>>4565753
>>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)
Glad to see you took some of the advice to heart.
>>
Quick votes today. Thanks for the encouragement.

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 (3D + 1B Treat Injury) for your mother's Healing test. DC 12 for removing 1 injury, 17 for removing both injuries.
>>
Rolled 2, 6, 3, 2 = 13 (4d6)

>>4565839
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 6, 4 = 15 (4d6)

>>4565839
>>
Rolled 2, 5, 2, 5 = 14 (4d6)

>>4565839
>>
>>4565839
Say, can we also test Endurance to recover?
>>
>>4565859
>>4565880
>>4565954
>14, One Degree of Success, One injury removed

>>4565962
No, the Healing test substitutes your Endurance test for recovery.

I have an unscheduled test today, have to go in-person too. So the next update might be delayed until tomorrow, but I'll try to get it done today if I find the time.
>>
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>No, you made a promise to Kyra, you need to see it through yourself. You owe that much to Gareth. (Higher DC for recovery roll)

“Please pa, none of that now. I owe it to the man to see this through myself, and I intend to keep my promise to Kyra.” You reply.

Your father dips his head, shaking in disapproval, but does not oppose you. Perhaps he’s realizing just now that he’s no longer the man of the house. You feel a pang of guilt hit you again. “You take care of Kyra now, alright? You keep her safe here, and I’ll go see to those bastards that did this. I’ll bring back their heads and mount them in our yard.”

A sort of determination fills you as you speak, and it seems to permeate into your father, who sits up straighter, and looks you in the eye.

“Gods be with you, then. Take your friends with you, and Tommard and his guards will want to go too. Everyone you can gather. I don’t want to lose my son after almost losing my daughter, you hear me? I’ll hold down the fort here.” He says grimly, then leaves you to yourself.

You finish your tea quickly, and get up and about. There’s still some pain in your left leg, but at least it’s not numb anymore. That’s progress, right? If you’re going to the forest again today, you need to get it cleaned and bandaged again.

But first, you go to your sister’s room, quietly as you can. She’s sleeping peacefully in her bed, a serene look on her face. As if yesterday was just a bad dream, and when she wakes up it’s all going to be alright. But then your gaze shifts lower, and you see the bandages and pastes all over her, and you’re reminded of what she went through yesterday. No girl of six and ten should have to fight off a man intent on raping her. Your hands close into fists in anger, but a faint noise from the side makes you notice your mother sitting on a chair opposite the bed, awake, and looking at you. She motions to you to meet her in the hall, and you both move off.

As soon as you’re both outside the room, you wrap your mother in a tight hug, the previous day’s emotions all returning at once. Your mother has that effect on you, where you can tell her all your problems without fear of judgment or chastisement. So you lay out all your worries to her, being afraid for your sister’s life, the thought of this happening again, and the incredible guilt you feel for allowing that to happen to your sister, and letting Gareth die.

By the end of it you’re both in tears, and she’s whispering quiet reassurances as you lay your head in her lap. “She’s going to be alright, Hal. It’ll take weeks, mayhaps months, but she’s going to be alright.” She tells you.

“Come now, if you’re going back to get Gareth’s body, you need to get your bandages changed.” She slowly pushes you off of her lap, and gets her healer’s kit while you settle on a chair.
>>
>>4566491
“You don’t disapprove?” You ask in astonishment.

“I do, but I also know better than to try to stop a young man on a mission. You be careful out there, though, Hal.” You nod gratefully, and let her do her work.

You hiss when she removes all the bandages and washes your foot with hot water. The wounds and cuts have all been stitched, it appears, and there’s no sign of infection. There’s still some pain left, but you should be able to walk long enough for the trip. While your fresh bandages are being applied, Owen and Torrhen drop in. You know they were concerned yesterday, so you give them your account of what happened yesterday. It looks like you’ll be doing this all day now, you think. They absorb it all seriously, outraged on your and Kyra's behalf, and look as ready as you to go out and take revenge.

“Now that I’ve explained to you the dangers, will you accompany me back to the woods today? Be sure that I won’t mind if you-“ You are cut off by angry interruptions from your friends

“How dare you-“
“Of course we’ll go you idiot.”
“-to question our friendship?!”
“-and everyone else too!”

These are the friends you knew since you were a babe, you chuckle. There was no doubt in your mind that they would agree.

“Alright, alright, stop! Okay, I was stupid to ask. We’ll need some more than just the three of us, though. We don’t know how many more bandits are out there, and the more people go with us, the safer we’ll be. So you two try to get some volunteers. Try Quentyn’s and the village square. Anyone who’s willing to come, tell them my story, and if they have a weapon, we’ll take them.” Your friends agree and leave with a promise to return within an hour.

You go back to your preparations and equip your bow and the stiletto, refill your quiver from your spare arrows, and strap Grunt’s dagger to your other side. You look sadly at the remains of your padded armour, much of it being torn apart to help your sister. A worthy sacrifice, you think. You’ll just have to make do without it.

As you step into the hall again, ready to move out, your father enters the hall from the outside, along with Gareth’s father, Tommard. His two guards are along with him, but they wait respectfully outside the gate. Your father hands the miller a glass of water, and goes to his room to give you some privacy. Tommard looks haggard and his eyes are bloodshot, as if he hasn’t slept the whole night. He also looks angry, and you know you have some explaining to do.

____

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 (3D +1B) for Peruasion (Convince). The higher you roll, the better the conversation goes. And there's a bonus if you roll high enough.
>>
Rolled 1, 4, 4, 4 = 13 (4d6)

>>4566503
Gods help him
>>
Rolled 6, 2, 5, 6 = 19 (4d6)

>>4566503
>>
Rolled 1, 6, 2, 5 = 14 (4d6)

>>
>>4566507
>>4566523
>>4566531
>18 (-1 due to injury, +2 because of the sword)
That's enough to get the bonus. Writing! Shouldn't take more than 90 minutes.
>>
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You confirm his worst fears when you fetch Gareth’s sword from your room. You kneel down and present it to him, an expression of sorrow on your face. He takes it in his hands gingerly, hands running over the pommel and the blade lovingly, as if he could feel the essence of his son in the sword. All his anger dissipates in that moment, and you look away respectfully when you hear his wet sniffles. When his tears stop flowing, he says

“I.. Thank you, Hallis. For bringing this to me. It means more to me than you could ever know. I gifted this to him on his ninth nameday, you know. He was always more interested in swordplay than running the mill, that one. I worried that I would have to sell the mill when I grew too old.” He chuckles fondly.

“He didn’t have many friends to speak of, so he pestered the guards into training him when they were supposed to just watch over him. The first time I found out, I tanned his hide good. But he didn’t give up, no matter how many times I took away his sticks or warned the guards, he just didn’t give up.”

You acknowledge those words; you saw the truth in them yesterday. “He was a brave, honourable lad, Tommard. He loved Kyra, and died defending her. I would have gladly seen Kyra wed to him.”

Then you tell him of yesterday’s tragic events. You have had this conversation thrice now, so the words come to you easily. You focus more on Gareth’s valiant defense, how he downed a man who had superior weapons and armour. How he could have run away and lived, but came back to fight, so Kyra could get away. How he went down still fighting. Tommard appears relieved when you tell him that you avenged Gareth by killing Grunt, then sad when you explain why you couldn’t bring his body back with you.

The conversation lapses into a comfortable silence when you’re done, each of you reflecting on your thoughts. After a while, Tommard moves to get up.

“We have to get his body back, Hal. We can’t let the crows or the wolves have it, or worse.”

You concur, “Aye. I’ll be going with you. I know the quickest way there. My friends will be with us, along with any volunteers they can find. The more men we have with us, the less likely we are to be attacked, whether by man or beast.”

He acquiesces quickly, “Then I must thank you and your friends again. I’ll go home to inform my wife and daughters, then I and the guards will join you.” Three more men added to your cause, then. And two of them skilled with the sword. You hope the bandits try to attack you now, you won’t have any better odds than this.

When he’s at the front door, Tommard looks back at you. “Say Hallis, you won’t be going out there without any protection, will you? I’m sorry about your armour. Let me repay you some of the kindness you showed me by giving you of my guards’ spare armour. It’s of a fine make, and you’re close enough in size that it won’t need adjustments.”
>>
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>>4566652
You are dumbstruck by his offer. Tommard’s a known miser, and him gifting you a full set of armour is simply.. inconceivable. Tommard mistakes your silence as acceptance, and tells you he’ll meet you in the village square with the set.

A quarter of an hour later you’re all assembled in the village square. You, Torrhen, Owen, Tommard, his guards Beron and Lew, two of Owen’s farmer friends wielding pitchforks, and the butcher Rickard with a cleaver. Unfortunately, Beth’s not here to see her father off. Another time, perhaps. You are distracted from those thoughts by Tommard handing you your new armour.

“Here you go, made at a premium up in Karhold”

It’s set of soft leather armour, but reinforced with some hard leather pieces protecting your vital organs and weak points. You thank him for the gift profusely and don the new armour. It fits you comfortably enough, and doesn’t restrict your movement as much as you had expected it to. Your group takes your leave then, cheered on solemnly by the villagers.

The trek to the clearing in the forest could have been much faster this time, but a fog rolled in from the west in the night, and had yet to lift. It’s dense and low-hanging, reducing your visibility considerably. You have to stop and consult with Torrhen multiple times whether you are on the correct path. It takes the better part of two hours for you to reach your destination, although the sky remains hidden behind the thick fog. There’s a cry from among your party when you arrive at the clearing, and as you look up a spectacle unfolds before you, standing out clear in the fog.

In the middle of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of burning stakes, a wooden cross is blazing, much like the cross on the Bolton banner. Tied upside down to the cross is a body, mangled beyond recognition. But you don’t need to recognize the body to know instinctively that this is Gareth. There are no other bodies of bandits burning, and they wouldn’t do this to one of their own. All of you rush forward at once towards his body, cries and shouts of anger flying quick. As you come closer, you discover with horror that his entire body has been flayed, completely from top to bottom, not a shred a shred of skin remaining. Gareth’s eyes have been plucked out, and you can see each individual muscle in his body.

Disgusted and struck silent, you are overtaken by a sudden urge to vomit, and the next moment you find yourself retching on the forest floor. Many others in the party do the same, Owen collapsing in a fit of dry heaves. What monster could do this? This is careful work done with cold precision, they must have been at it for hours!
>>
>>4566654
Those still standing try to free the body, but the fire is too large for them to douse without water. The circle of flaming stakes would have to be taken apart to even reach the body. Beron and Lew start cutting down the stakes, and the farmers dig up dirt with their pitchforks and throw it at the fire, but it is an effort in vain. Tommard kneels as close as he can to the fire, and breaks down in tears. The butcher, Rickard moves to comfort him, his shirt covered in bile. It speaks to the barbarity of the sight before you that even a butcher familiar with chopping up carcasses spilled his guts out.

When you can compose yourself enough to stand upright, you move over to Torrhen, who’s the least affected in the group. “Do you think the bandits did this?” He asks you. “Their friends we killed were savage enough, but what would possess them to do something like this? Gods! This will haunt us in our nightmares for the rest of our lives. And why would they use the Bolton cross and flay him?” You worry aloud.

“Could be as simple as the fact that we’re in Bolton lands. I doubt Lord Bolton himself would associate with bandits or participate in this.. abomination.” Torrhen replies.

“Mayhaps you’re right. I think they left this here to send a message. To me, that they’re coming for me, for killing their mates.”

“Let’s not go there yet, Hal. Focus on what we can see and hear with our own eyes. Look for clues, they must have been here recently if the pyre is still burning.”

You take his advice and the two of you begin scouring the clearing for anything that could point you to the culprits.
____

Give me 3 rolls of 5d6-1 (4D + 1B -1 injury) for Awareness (Notice). The higher the roll, the more clues you find pointing to the identity and location of the culprit.

I'm running out of pretty pictures.
>>
Rolled 2, 1, 4, 5 = 12 (4d6)

>>4566664
>>
Rolled 1, 3, 5, 4, 2 - 1 = 14 (5d6 - 1)

>>4566664
shit wrong roll
>>
Rolled 6, 5, 2, 6, 5 - 1 = 23 (5d6 - 1)

>>4566664
>>
Slow night today, but it's Friday, so that's understandable. Since you're unable to get a 24 because of that -1, that 21 gets the rest of the DCs. I'll come back to this tomorrow with an important vote.

In the meantime, give me some feedback on the quest. Do you like it? What parts (if any) do you not like? Anything I can improve?
>>
>>4566664
>Ramsey Snow
>Fugg

>>4566786
Yeah man, I'm enjoying it. Don't need to change a thing imo.
Although, are you doing anything to balance for the quest's best of 3 rolling? I'd hate to think we'll be acing everything just because we're rolling three times the dice that the rules were designed for.
>>
>>4567050
Thanks for the reply, and I'm glad you're having fun! There's certainly a balance to be made between the difficulty and enjoyability of the quest. Failing too many tests might not be fun for some players, especially if I can't find interesting ways of failing. I raise the difficulty by 3 or 5 where it makes sense. Since anons are risk-averse, they rarely try tests for abilities less than rank 3, so it works out, I think. You've been lucky with high rolls so far. I also try to use Degrees of Success where I can, so even if you do succeed, it would still be better to roll higher. Something you'll see in the next update, for rolling that 21.

Also in every conflict test, i.e. tests where both you and your opponent are rolling dice, I give the opponents Best of 3 too, to balance things out.

>Ramsay Snow
Well, finally someone gets it, I was dropping some hints throughout. In the previous fight, every opponent you fought was a canon character with their own wiki page, even Helicent the Hound. If players had not chosen to find Kyra and Gareth, or rolled poorly to find them, Ramsay's next bitch would be called Kyra. Since this is a one-shot, it allows me to kill canon characters at will without worrying about long-term butterfly effects. So no shirtless Ramsay fighting off 20 men alone.
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 4, 6, 4 - 1 = 17 (5d6 - 1)

>>4566664
>>
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>Rolled 21 vs DC 15, 18, 21, 24

Clues and evidence, you find aplenty. The most notable is a foul stench hanging in the air, all around the make-shift pyre Gareth’s body is tied to. It is an overpowering odour, mixed with the smell of a pigsty. A farmer’s, perhaps? There are two sets of boot-prints in the ground, slow and deliberate, carrying heavy loads back and forth all over the site, indicating that this is the work of two men.

There are large blood stains on the ground from where the bodies of the bandits and the hound have been moved, dragged to the south-west, deeper into the forest and away from the village. To your knowledge, there was nothing out there in the woods until it met the Weeping River down from the Dreadfort. A few small villages rested on the banks of the river, but they were few and far between. Could the bandits be hiding in one of those villages?

As you skirt around the edge and reach the southern end of the egg-shaped clearing, you notice that attempts have been made to erase some tracks. The dirt has been disturbed and leaves and debris scattered all over. The freshly disturbed dirt curves around the edge until it meets the tracks leading south-west. It’s a skillful attempt, and to anyone other than a trained tracker like you or Torrhen, only the tracks leading south-west would be visible.

You inform Torrhen of this finding, and together you search for any place where the perpetrators have slipped up. It takes you a while and some bruises and scrapes from kneeling in the dirt, but eventually you find sets of prints not matching up with the rest, leading south. What’s interesting is the number of prints you find. Five men, judging by the size of their boots, and several hounds came up from the south, but you cannot tell how many went back that way. The bodies have been dragged in a deliberate way to mask the footprints underneath them, but here and there you find the traces of the other men and hounds who left for south-west.

Several times you feel eyes watching you from afar, but whenever you turn, there’s no one there. You hope it’s only an ill feeling.

With these results you go back to the others in the group. By now the fire has burned out, and Gareth’s body, or whatever that remains of it, has been cut down and placed on a cloak. Tommard’s tears have dried out, it seems, and he’s just staring blankly at the pitiful remains. You force yourself to look at the skull to acknowledge the atrocity committed here today. The hollows of Gareth’s eyes stare at you accusingly.

Torrhen apprises the others of what you found, and you debate on the next course of action.

“They’ve clearly gone to one of the villages.” says Rickard, the butcher. “There’s fresh water from the river and fish to keep them fed. That’s the destination which makes the most sense.”
>>
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>>4567823
“Then let us go and meet them. There are nine of us armed men here, we’ll flush out these bandits from whatever hovel they’ve made their base in.” Beron, one of Tommard’s guards cries out.

Owen cuts in, “And what if it’s an ambush? They made those tracks knowing full well that we’ll follow them. What if they’ve picked the perfect spot from where they can attack us and we can’t even see them? I say we go back to the village and set up defenses and carry out patrols. The bandits can’t number so much that they’ll attack the whole village at once.”

“If we know there’s an ambush, then we can turn it around on them, and catch them unawares.” Beron replies confidently.

Tommard finally finds his voice, “I won’t let those bastards roam free on my watch, but we don’t know how many of them are out there. Mayhaps we’re enough to overwhelm them, mayhaps we’re not. Are you willing to gamble your life on that? I’ve two daughters and a wife yet living, and I can’t leave them alone and go die off. Nay, let me petition Lord Bolton for assistance. Someone’s maligning his name, and he would want peace in his lands. He’ll send some soldiers to root out the bandits, and keep our village safe.”

Yoren, one of farmers, shakes his head vehemently at that, “Nay, Lord Bolton is like as not to take your head to keep the matter quiet. That cross is an ill-omen. Who’s to say these bastards don’t have Lord Bolton’s protection, to be so brazen like this? My da’ says he throws those who displease him into his dungeon, and flays their skin bit by bit. I’m not messing with no lords.”

Torrhen, who had not voiced his opinion yet, speaks up, ignoring that exchange, “The tracks came from the south, and at least one man went back. The only thing south from here is the abandoned mine. Mayhaps they have set up their camp in the mine, and act from there? We could check out the mine, and lay a trap for them when they return at night empty-handed.”

“We’re farmers and peasants, not rogues to lay traps and hide in ambushes! And what if you’re wrong? We have most of the armed men in the village with us here. What if the bandits attack the village when we’re off on your wild goose chase? Are you willing to bet the womenfolk’s safety on that?” someone shouts.

The arguments go back and forth, alternating between angry shouts and calm beseeching, but these were the main courses of action. As the only one here who had dealt with these bandits and came out victorious, your voice carried weight, and you could sway some of the others into agreeing with you. But your own mind was not made up yet. Could you afford to make another mistake?
>>
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>>4567825
What do you choose:

>Agree with Owen. Go back to the village and set up defenses and patrols. There’s safety in numbers, and these bandits wouldn’t dare attacking a hundred people at once. You would also be on familiar ground. But others who have vengeance and justice in mind may be disappointed.

>Agree with Beron. Follow the tracks south-west. That’s clearly where the bandits went. Knowing there might be an ambush gives you an advantage, and you have the opportunity to turn it around on the bandits. Otherwise you would flush them out from whatever riverside village they were sheltering in.

>Agree with Tommard. Allow him to petition Lord Bolton for help. Millers are the backbone of villages, and he’s the alderman besides. Lord Bolton would hear him, and help him avenge his son. Lords don’t like groups of bandits murdering and raping in their lands, especially not ones using their sigils in acts of evil.

>Agree with Torrhen. Follow the hidden tracks south to the abandoned mine. It is possible that the bandits have set up their camp here, which would allow you to lay a trap for them in turn. But others may balk at leaving your village defenseless to chase a dubious lead. Your group is also ill-equipped for stealth.

>Something else (Write-in)

This is an important choice, leaving this up for a while. Next vote will be a Persuasion vote to see how many in your party go along with your choice.
Don't judge me for the pic, I've run out of art.
>>
>>4567838
It seems dubious to get involved in any immediate fight given our still wounded status. Since Tommard himself suggested petitioning the lord, that takes care of the only reservation I had--which was that we might have wanted vengeance for his sake. Stealth route would work, but only if we could run away if things went south. Our leg is injured though, so I think that's out.

>Petition the Lord and in the meantime set up defenses in town

That gives us a chance to heal up as well so when/if the time comes we can fight back at full strength.
>>
>>4567838
btw, have you tried using pinterest or artstation for images?

Also just wanted to reiterate how much I'm enjoying the quest. It's been so long since I found a quest I actually want to participate in.
>>
>>4567838
me think we need to heal up otherwise we get shanked
>>4567904
+1
>>
Just clarifying some things in case some mechanics are lost due to the heavy flavour I wrapped them in. I may have overemphasized the impact of injuries in the previous updates, if it's affecting player choices this much. Injuries give you -1 on all rolls, wounds give you -1D on all rolls. You have 1 injury right now. Tomorrow your mother makes another 4d6 (3D + 1B) roll to treat your injury. Depending on your level of activity tomorrow, the DC will range from 6 to 12. It's very likely that you will be back at full strength tomorrow.

Wounds on the other hand take weeks to heal, and the tests can only be done one week apart. Your sister is at two wounds and two injuries, so her condition is very serious. Wounds can also fester and worsen, but injuries can't.

I'm telling you this so you can make an informed choice, and hopefully not steer you into any choice I favour.

>>4567908
Yeah, my current art folder is made up 90% from Pinterest. I'll check out artsstation. And thank you! I'm genuinely happy someone's enjoying my quest.
>>
>>4567838
>>Agree with Beron. Follow the tracks south-west. That’s clearly where the bandits went. Knowing there might be an ambush gives you an advantage, and you have the opportunity to turn it around on the bandits. Otherwise you would flush them out from whatever riverside village they were sheltering in.
FIGHT FOR VENGEANCE
Real reason is that Roose won't give a shit about this and it will give Ramsay lots of time to gather a larger force.
>>
>>4567838
I should clarify that agreeing with Tommard to petition Roose Bolton will also mean that you'll be going with him, because you're the one who saw it happen, and also the only person to see the bandits, now that their bodies are gone. If you're still injured tomorrow, he'll take you in a cart.

Sorry for not mentioning that in the options, I should write down my ideas when they're floating in my head..
>>
>>4568036
+1 try to flush them out of the mine with smoke or something like that
>>
>>4567838
>>Agree with Owen. Go back to the village and set up defenses and patrols. There’s safety in numbers, and these bandits wouldn’t dare attacking a hundred people at once. You would also be on familiar ground. But others who have vengeance and justice in mind may be disappointed.
>>
>>4567838
>>Agree with Beron. Follow the tracks south-west. That’s clearly where the bandits went. Knowing there might be an ambush gives you an advantage, and you have the opportunity to turn it around on the bandits. Otherwise you would flush them out from whatever riverside village they were sheltering in.

>>4567912
>>4568112
You voted for two different things, so which is it?
>>
>>4568377
Second one , sorry man I'm seeing double
>>
Alright, then. You've chosen to put your hand in the lion's mouth. Let's hope you can get it out in time when he bites. There is a possibility of the quest ending here if you suffer a full party wipe.

There's going to be a lot of rolling involved for the next part and a hell lot of crunch. I'll try to do as much of it in the background as possible. For the fight, I won't be giving you round by round crunch on everyone as that will take too long with potentially a dozen characters involved. I'll stick to the dice rolled and the final results only.

I've also decided to give you 2 glory points for saving Kyra and bringing back Gareth's sword. You can use a glory point at any point of time to give yourself +1B on any roll. You'll probably need it in the fight.

Right now I need 3 rolls of 4d6-1 (3D + 1B -1 injury) for Persuasion (Convince) to see how many people you can convince to come with you. I'll update in the morning.
>>
Rolled 4, 2, 2, 6 - 1 = 13 (4d6 - 1)

>>4568642
>>
Rolled 1, 6, 6, 4 + 1 = 18 (4d6 + 1)

>>4568642
>>
Rolled 1, 3, 3, 2 - 1 = 8 (4d6 - 1)

>>4568642
>>
>>4568662
>>4568804
>>4568836
With 15 you get everyone but the two farmers. It's not a big loss, they weren't good fighters anyway, but they could have provided cannon fodder. Owen, Tommard and Torrhen all had DC 15 due to having their own strong opinions about what to do, and you JUST got them all. With Tommard you get his two guards without a test, and Rickard the butcher had DC 12.

Now like I said, this entire part will be rolls-heavy. I apologize if gets too much for players, but many things are dependent on you succeeding in these tests.

Give me 3 rolls of 5d6-1 (4D + 1B -1) for Awareness (Notice). This is a conflict test with the other side actively trying to hide. If you get more than two degrees of success, you can spot them before they see you. They get a bonus due to dense forest and time taken to prepare.
>>
Rolled 6, 3, 1, 1, 6 - 1 = 16 (5d6 - 1)

>>4568923
Lets see if I did the +- correctly this time
>>
Rolled 2, 5, 6, 5, 3 - 1 = 20 (5d6 - 1)

>>4568923
>>
Rolled 1, 3, 3, 3, 6 - 1 = 15 (5d6 - 1)

>>
>>4568940
>>4568944
>>4568960
>18
We'll see if it's enough. Trying to stat out like a dozen characters is hard. I also want to read up on some Dance chapters to get the tone right. Might take until tonight.
>>
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>Agree with Beron. Follow the tracks south-west. That’s clearly where the bandits went. Knowing there might be an ambush gives you an advantage, and you have the opportunity to turn it around on the bandits. Otherwise you would flush them out from whatever riverside village they were sheltering in.

When you finally begin to speak, the others quiet down and listen.

“I think we should weigh all the choices before deciding. We could go back to our homes and put up defenses, but how long would that last?” You ask, looking your friend Owen in the eyes. “How would you work at your farm without going outside the village? Tommard, how would you get your grain if the farmers couldn’t work? Every time we would leave the village, these bandits will pick us off piece by piece.” Owen lowers his head slightly, thinking upon your words.

“Tommard, you could petition Lord Bolton for help, but who knows how long that will take. And we all know his reputation, could bandits be so brazen so close to the Dreadfort without his blessing? You could be risking all our heads by approaching him directly.”

Lastly you acknowledge the path presented by Torrhen. “We could also inspect the mine, and if the bandits have their camp set up there, we could lay a trap for them. But that is a risky gamble at best. I can feel their eyes on me even now, as I’m sure you do as well, Torrhen. When they see us moving south, they’ll know the village is ripe for the taking.” Torrhen seems to agree resignedly.

Finally, you give your decision, facing everyone present one by one as you speak. “Then the only choice we have left is to face the monsters head on, as Beron says. We cannot leave this savagery unpunished. If we leave them alive, they either move freely, laughing at us, or come back at us to take a bigger bite. We cannot allow that. We WILL NOT allow that. They think us fools, lambs being led merrily to their own slaughter. But we will show them we are WOLVES! And tear them apart when they come for us!”

Your words rouse the others into action, and they cheer and heckle, brandishing their weapons. You have your army.

Well, most of them, anyway. The two farmers in your group, Yoren and Alton, give you their sheepish apologies while begging their leave. They’re simple farmers, they say, with nothing but pitchforks and roughspun cloth to fight with. They’re right, you guess, they would be the first ones to go down in a fight. Regretfully, you let them leave, although Tommard charges them with delivering Gareth’s remains safely to his family; and telling the rest of the villagers where you are heading.
>>
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>>4569978
>Rolled 18 vs Foe Roll 18 (15+3): One degree of success

Thus, your party, seven in number, follows the bloody tracks left by the bandits’ bodies being dragged southwest. They move in single file, while you and Torrhen follow the group a few yards away on either side, keeping your eyes and ears open for danger. The path you follow is long and twisted, natural obstacles sprinkled throughout the way. You wonder if this path was chosen specifically to tire you out. Multiple times you find items from the bandits’ garb; a vambrace here, a boot there; fallen by the wayside, as if to reassure you that you’re on the tail of the bandits.

You do not know for how long you follow the trail, but when the fog lifts, the sun is directly above your head, and the forest has receded into thick copses of oak trees dotting the grasslands. You’re moving along a low rolling hill with a thicket of trees near the top, when it happens. Your eyes are so focused on the treeline looking for spying eyes that you do not pay enough attention to your more immediate surroundings.

Suddenly there’s a thick crunch under your legs and the ground gives way. It is only your natural reflexes that save you as you jump away from the spot, landing on your stomach with a groan. You peer down into the freshly created hole to see sharpened stakes driven into the ground, pointing upwards dangerously. Your gut tells you that something is wrong, and you instantly yell out, “Ambush! Step back and take cover!”

Your party kicks into action and unsheathes their weapons, prodding the ground around them, revealing that the way ahead and the entire side facing away from the hill has been trapped. Unfortunately, the area has been cleared of any obstacles you could use as cover. The enemy has prepared well, you think. You can only go back or up towards the hill.

Sure enough, when the bandits realize that you’ve not fallen for the trap, they emerge from the treeline, shouting and running at you with weapons gleaming in the bright sun. They are about 30 yards uphill from you. There are three bowmen on the top of the hill, taking cover behind a makeshift barricade. One of them, presumably their leader, has a hideous armour, the red rounded helm and pink gorget resembling a flayed man whose mouth is open in a silent scream. Besides him are two men in leathers wielding longbows.

Two more men charge downhill, one in heavy brigandine bearing a longsword and a shield, the other in mail armour with a dirk and a stiletto like yours. But that is not what scares you. It is the four hounds running ahead of them, rushing down the hill, straight at you, which makes a shiver crawl up your spine. Once again, you find yourself outnumbered and fighting skilled killers.
>>
>>4569981
You had avoided their traps and foiled their ambush, but you could not ambush them in turn as you intended, either. This was going to be a bloody fight to the death. You looked at your group one last time, trying to remember their faces, for you knew already that not all would survive this fight.

Your side:
>You in reinforced soft leather armour wielding a longbow, a stiletto and a dagger
>Owen in heavy clothes wielding a mattock
>Torrhen in hard leather armour wielding a longbow and a long spear
>Tommard in heavy clothes wielding a longsword
>Lew in reinforced mail armour wielding a halberd
>Beron in reinforced mail armour wielding a longbow and a bastard sword
>Rickard in robes wielding a hand axe and a dirk

Other side: (I'm using their actual names in the meta to avoid writing 'man with sword and the brigandine' 10 times)
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour and wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Reek in hard leather armour wielding a longbow and a longsword
>Ben Bones in soft leather armour wielding a hunting bow, a dagger and a dirk
>Skinner in mail armour wielding a dirk and a stiletto.
>Yellow Dick in brigandine wielding a longsword and a large shield
>Hounds: Grey Jeyne, Sara, Willow, Maude

Keep in mind that Ramsay, Ben Bones and Reek have a +5 to Combat Defense due to cover. The bowmen among you will fire this round, the others will brace (‘pass’ in the rulebook) to get a +2b bonus next round. The hounds will be on you this round and attack next round, the men will be on you next round and attack in the subsequent round. The enemy bowmen will fire every round. Unless there is a specific plan put forward, the fight will resolve as 1-on-1 brawls with the bowmen taking their shots throughout. If there’s any specific plan as to who should fight who, I’ll consider that as well.

Who do you target?
>Ramsay
>Ben Bones
>Reek
>Skinner
>Yellow Dick
>One of the Hounds
>>
>>4569987
I say our bowmen (including ourselves) should target Skinner and Yellow Dick, try to drop them before they get into melee range.
I want to take Ramsay out ASAP but between his armour and the barricade I think trading arrows is a lost cause.
>>
>>4569987
Some further details:
Other than Rickard, everyone on your side can take injuries to reduce damage. Torrhen can take 1 wound.

On the other side, Ben Bones and the hounds cannot take injuries, everyone else can. Ramsay is a full primary character (meaning more ability and specialty ranks) and Reek can take 1 wound.
>>
Hmm not seeing much activity, but I understand the mechanics or crunch related stuff can put people off. Also it's Sunday. I'll leave this open for a few hours then go ahead with this - >>4570152 and start calling for rolls.

The next part is going to be very rolls-heavy and I can see the fight lasting 7-8 rounds easily. I hope I can keep it interesting enough despite all the crunch.

This was the toughest option. Good luck. If you die, I'll finish with an epilogue.
>>
>>4569987
>Reek
>>
Lets engage in a shootout with the enemy archers. Specifically

>Aim and shoot Reek this round

Given that hounds are already upon our party, that should increase the difficulty of enemy marksmanship tests, right? If they don't want to hit the dogs.

Hold the line, fend off dogs, shoot. Simple.
>>
>>4570304
>Given that hounds are already upon our party, that should increase the difficulty of enemy marksmanship tests, right? If they don't want to hit the dogs.
I suppose.. There's no rule for this in the rulebook, but it does make some sense. I used the 'bystander' rules for Kyra and increased the CD by 5, but that was when she was literally being used as a shield. Here you have people (and dogs) moving in for an attack and disengaging. Close, but not so close. I'll make a house rule and give you +3 CD against ranged attacks, but be careful, it will apply to you too if you try to attack them with both melee and ranged. So if one of your friends is falling behind in his fight, it will be harder for you to hit his opponent.

And no Aim this round. I'm only allowing it when you are not being attacked and have more time to focus. Here you have arrows firing on you and dogs running at you.

>>4570301
>>4570304
Lol I don't know what you guys have against Reek, but alright. With the fight being stacked against you as it is, I feel I must remind you that he has +5 to his CD due to cover. No problem if you want to continue anyway.
>>
>>4570327
cause he smells like shit
>>
>>4570301
>>4570304
Dammit guys. The enemy archers behind cover.
Can we try for at least one round of shooting on the two bastards charging us? Getting at least a couple of injuries on them might be just enough to stop them tearing through our frontline.
>>
>>4570347
You can't tell that from your current location. I don't like metagaming, it is only one step above samefagging in terms of acceptable behaviour for me.
>>
>>4570434
>I don't like metagaming

Tbf, you did tell us all the names ooc.
>>
>>4570441
Only because it would be difficult for the players (and me) to keep track of everyone with descriptions like 'man with the longbow and soft leathers', 'man with the longbow and hard leathers', 'man with the longbow and scale armour', etc. See what I'm saying? Last time I could use dialogue to provide names for 2 of the characters, but this time I would have to do this for every human opponent. I had hoped players could appreciate the convenience and not use it for meta..

Alright I'm going to wait 10 more minutes then start calling for rolls.
>>
>>4570447
>I had hoped players could appreciate the convenience and not use it for meta..

I admire the optimism, but I've never seen that happen in these quests.
>>
>>4570450
Yeah. I guess I have Hal's Naive drawback too. Are you going to vote?
>>
>>4570451
Pretty sure it's going to be an inconvenient tie, so I didn't. But here it is.
>>4569987
>Skinner

He doesn't have a shield and is running towards us. Just makes sense.
>>
>>4570152
>>4570452
>Skinner

>>4570304
Reek

>>4570301
Reek. But I'm not going to count this vote, sorry, because of this >>4570347. Call it QM fiat, but I'm not sure that this is not an attempt to derail the quest. I apologize if isn't. Thank you for playing so far, and I'll look at further votes on their individual merit.

I hope I'm not driving people away with that decision. Now give me 3 rolls of 4d6-1 for Marksmanship.
>>
Rolled 6, 5, 5, 1 - 1 = 16 (4d6 - 1)

>>4570454
>>
Rolled 6, 1, 5, 4 - 1 = 15 (4d6 - 1)

>>4570454
>>
Rolled 2, 5, 1, 4 - 1 = 11 (4d6 - 1)

Alright, I'm writing. Rolling the final roll myself to speed things along. Doing the first round now, then I'll get to the next round in a few hours.
>>
Rolled 1, 4, 4, 6 - 1 = 14 (4d6 - 1)

>>4570454
Not trolling, I thought that we would be able to smell him from afar.
>>
Order of initiative: Skinner -> Grey Jeyne -> Reek -> Willow -> Torrhen ->Owen ->Lew ->Rickard ->Hal ->Ramsay ->Yellow Dick -> Tommard ->Maude ->Beron ->Ben Bones -> Sara

--- Skinner: Sprint (Greater Action) ---

--- Grey Jeyne: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
Moved 30 yards; Distance to Tommard: 0 yards

--- Reek Marksmanship Attack 1 (Owen) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 11, Result: Owen damaged, 10/15 Health

--- Willow: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
Moved 30 yards; Distance to Rickard: 0 yards

--- Torrhen Marksmanship Attack 1 (Skinner) ---
Rolled 21 vs CD 7, Result: Skinner Damaged, 1/12 Health

--- Owen: Catch Your Breath (Greater) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 0, Result: 4 Health recovered, 14/15 Health

--- Lew: Brace (Pass) ---
Gain +2b in the next test

--- Rickard Attack 1 (Willow) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 9, Result: Willow Slain!

--- Hal Marksmanship Attack 1 (Skinner) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 7, Result: Skinner injured, 4/4 injuries taken, 1/12 Health

--- Ramsay Marksmanship Attack 1 (Torrhen) ---
Rolled 18 (a perfect 6,6,6 on a 3d6, curse him) vs CD 7, Result: Torrhen Damaged. 3/3 injuries taken, 3/9 Health

--- Yellow Dick: Sprint (Greater Action) ---

--- Tommard Attack 1 (Grey Jeyne) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 9; Result: Grey Jeyne Damaged, 5/9 Health

--- Maude: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
Moved 30 yards; Distance to Torrhen: 0 yards

--- Beron Marksmanship Attack 1 (Yellow Dick) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 11; Result: Yellow Dick Damaged, 8/9 Health

--- Ben Bones Marksmanship Attack 1 (Owen) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 11; Result: Owen Damaged, 10/15 Health

--- Sara: Sprint (Greater Action) ---
Moved 30 yards; Distance to Owen: 0 yards
>>
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>>4570711
The men stand 2 yards apart from each other, falling into a neat line; and it seems that your enemies have picked an opponent each, running determinedly towards a specific target. You nock your arrow and choose your victim. The three bowmen on the hill have the barricade ahead of them to protect them, they would not be easy targets. You wonder idly why you didn’t spot that patchwork of wooden boards hidden poorly behind leaves and vines before. You shake your head and focus, a thought for another time.

Of the men and beasts charging at you, the two men in armour were the most dangerous, they moved with a quiet determination, as if they had done this a hundred times before. These were trained killers, you had to take them down first. With that in mind, you aim at the one in mail armour, he’s easier to hit than the one with the shield. He’s also wielding a stiletto and a dirk like you, close ranged weapons designed to get past armour. With a quick prayer above you loose.
The arrow flies off with a *twang* and hits the man in his stomach, piercing through his mail deeply. At the same time, another arrow buries itself in his thigh, and comes out of the other side. It seems that Torrhen had the same idea as you, because a second later you hear Beron curse when his shaft is stopped by the brigandine protecting his target. You take a risk and look at Torrhen to coordinate your shots again, only to be horrified as an arrow takes him in his side, going through his leather armour easily.

Before you can recover from your shock, two more arrows fly at Owen, one grazing his arm, and the other sticking in his shoulder. Gods! Did these bandits know who your friends were and target them on purpose? Owen, meanwhile, pulls out the arrow with his other hand, and roars defiantly, readying his mattock to strike the hound that’s reached him.

Elsewhere you see Rickard taking a step forward against the dog rushing him, and dealing a precise cut to its stomach like you would expect a butcher to do. He pushes his dirk into the dog’s eye, ending its life. You let the first kill of the battle empower you as you ready your next shot. If you want to save your friends, you have to end this fight as quickly as possible. Somehow the man you shot hasn’t slowed down at all, charging at Beron with a cry.
>>
>>4570712
Who do you target next?
>Skinner, the man with the stiletto and dirk, who’s down to his last legs but still attacking Beron
>Yellow Dick, the man in heavy armour charging towards Lew with sword and shield
>Ramsay, the apparent leader attacking from up the hill (+5 CD)
>Ben Bones, one of the men attacking from the hill (+5 CD)
>Reek, one of the men attacking from the hill (+5 CD)
>Grey Jeyne, the hound attacking Tommard (+3 CD)
>Sara, the hound attacking Owen (+3 CD)
>Maude, the hound attacking Torrhen (+3 CD)

I also need 3 rolls of 4d6-1 for Marksmanship. You can roll in the same post as the vote.

>>4570595
I'm sorry for not counting your vote, then. I won't do it again.
>>
>>4570714
>>Yellow Dick, the man in heavy armour charging towards Lew with sword and shield
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 3, 5 = 17 (4d6)

>>4570714
>>Yellow Dick, the man in heavy armour charging towards Lew with sword and shield
>>
Rolled 3, 1, 2, 1 - 1 = 6 (4d6 - 1)

>>4571039
forgot to roll
>>
>>4571203
might as well not bother lol
>>
Alright give me that last roll and I'll do round 2 in an hour or two. Reaaally slow today.
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 5, 3 - 1 = 16 (4d6 - 1)

>>4571255
>>
Order of Initiative: Sara ->Grey Jeyne ->Reek ->Beron ->Lew ->Owen ->Ramsay ->Torrhen -> Yellow Dick ->Hal ->Tommard ->Rickard ->Maude ->Skinner ->Ben Bones

--- Sara Attack 1 (Owen) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 11, Result: Owen Damaged, 8/15 Health, 0/5 Injuries

--- Grey Jeyne Attack 1 (Tommard) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 10, Result: Tommard Damaged, 4/9 Health, 0/3 Injuries

---Reek Marksmanship Attack 2 (Torrhen) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 10, Result: Torrhen Wounded, 1/9 Health, 1/1 Wounds, 3/3 Injuries

--- Beron Marksmanship Attack 2 (Skinner) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 7, Result: Skinner Slain!

--- Lew: Brace (Pass) ---
Gain +2b in the next test

--- Owen Attack 1 (Sara) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 9, Result: Sara Slain!

--- Ramsay Marksmanship Attack 2 (Rickard) ---
Rolled 17 vs CD 9, Result: Rickard Slain!

--- Torrhen Attack 1 (Maude) ---
Rolled 6 vs CD 9, Attack Failed. Maude Undamaged.

--- Yellow Dick Charge (Lew) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 8, Result: Lew Damaged, 6/12 Health, 0/4 Injuries

--- Hal Marksmanship Attack 2 (Yellow Dick) ---
Rolled 17 vs CD 14, Result: Yellow Dick Damaged, 7/9 Health, 0/3 Injuries

--- Tommard Attack 2 (Grey Jeyne) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 9, Result: Grey Jeyne Damaged, 1/9 Health

--- Maude Attack 1 (Torrhen) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 7, Result: Torrhen Slain!

--- Ben Bones Marksmanship Attack 2 (Tommard) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 13, Result: Tommard Damaged, 2/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries
>>
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>>4571421
Beron hesitates for a moment, seeing the madman charging at him even with two arrows poking out of his body. You wonder if it is the same shock allowing him to continue, which let Damon attack you despite a shaft going straight through his chest. Whatever it is, Beron stumbles as he hastily nocks his arrow. There is no time to aim, and just as the man attacking him finally opens his mouth to let out a cry, Beron’s arrow takes him there, going through his face and out the other side. His scream is cut short, and his body collapses on Beron, who pants with relief, and shrugs the body off. A close shave indeed.

One armoured foe charging at you downed, you take your aim at the other. It becomes difficult to aim as the man barrels into Lew, using his shield to bash Lew’s halberd aside, and delivering a low slash to his knee. Although Lew’s armour holds, his knee is certainly damaged. You take two steps outside the formation to line your shot, and release. But the man’s armour protects him once more, as the arrow strikes his helmet, but does not find purchase, at most ringing his head a little before falling off.

Owen kills the hound attacking him with a single savage strike to its head with his mattock, burying the pointed end in the dog’s skull. A hail of arrows interrupts your brief relief, and you think you hear an old man’s pained cry from the hilltop. Rickard, who was going to help Tommard fight the hound attacking him, catches an arrow in his left eye, going down with a quiet grunt. You yell in frustration as the man falls, pulling another arrow from your quiver. Rickard was a good man, and responsible for most of the coin you made from selling your catches to him. That was how you met Beth...

There’s no time to think about that right now, because another arrow flies into Torrhen, this time piercing his right leg. Torrhen drops to his knee, letting go of the bow and drawing the hunting spear from his back, but he can only wave it around helplessly, as the dog finally attacks him, weaving through his clumsy strikes. With a jump, it closes its jaws around Torrhen’s neck, and bites off a large chunk. Torrhen is done for, you realize with tears in your eyes, as he falls down twitching, never to get up again.

He was your mentor, who taught you how to track, how to hunt, how to find your way around the woods. His training allowed your family to sustain itself when your father found himself out of work. He was your friend even before you knew what a friend was. You and Owen let out simultaneous roars of rage as you mourn his loss, Owen charging at the killer hound with his weapon. You weren’t going to leave even one of these bastards alive today, you vow, and aim once again.
>>
>>4571422
Who do you attack?

>Yellow Dick, the man in heavy armour attacking Lew with sword and shield (+3 CD)
>Ramsay, the apparent leader attacking from up the hill (+5 CD)
>Ben Bones, one of the men attacking from the hill (+5 CD)
>Reek, one of the men attacking from the hill (+5 CD)
>Grey Jeyne, the hound attacking Tommard, although it’s almost dead (+3 CD)
>Maude, the hound who just killed Torrhen, who was also being charged by Owen

Interest seems to have fallen. I don't know if it's the crunch or rolling putting people off, or my writing has declined, or it's just the time/day. Hell, maybe people are busy Cyberpunk like me. Anyway, I'll see this through.

I also need 3 rolls of 4d6-1 for Marksmanship. You can roll in the same post as the vote.
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 4, 1 - 1 = 14 (4d6 - 1)

>>4571424
>Maude, the hound who just killed Torrhen, who was also being charged by Owen
Lets avenge our friend and then perhaps go into the melee with Dick
>>
Rolled 2, 5, 5, 5 - 1 = 16 (4d6 - 1)

>>4571424
>>Maude, the hound who just killed Torrhen, who was also being charged by Owen
>>
Rolled 3, 4, 2, 4 - 1 = 12 (4d6 - 1)

>>4571424
>Yellow Dick
Owen should be able to handle Maude easily, I'd rather chip a few more points off Yellow Dick and free up Lew
>>
>>4571439
>>4571440
>>4571453
>16

Alright I'll start writing with Maude as the target, with the caveat that if you or Owen kills her in one blow, the other goes for Yellow Dick.
>>
>>4571424
>Interest seems to have fallen. I don't know if it's the crunch or rolling putting people off, or my writing has declined, or it's just the time/day.
I think the fight itself just isn't terribly exciting. MC and company were put in an unfavorable position and just get pelted from cover. The choice is in picking whom to attack then roll some dice, and these people are all the same to me.
>>
>>4571453
>>4571493
And then, hopefully, we can pick up his shield to advance towards the barricade.
>>
>>4571597
That was on us though. We voted to follow the path into a known ambush, now we just need to suck it up and (hopefully) mount Ramsay Fucking Snow's head on a pike.
>>
>>4571597
I can understand that. You don't know most of these characters, especially if you haven't read the books. Even if you did read them, other than Ramsay and Reek, the others are mentioned in like throwaway lines. I think I could have done something to establish their characters more, maybe like an interlude or something where they find the bodies of their fallen comrades, and lay the trap. Maybe a snapshot of them doing something terrible. Something to think about for the next time.

On the unfavorable position, I didn't want to skimp on the difficulty level after players picked the hardest option, then didn't roll high enough to spot them from afar. Still, you guys are doing okay so far.

>>4571605
That's a good idea, actually. Although shields require a bonus die in the Shields specialty, sprinting does not require a test to be made, so you will not incur the penalty dice for not having a specialty. The distance from your position to the bowmen is one full sprint and a charge, so you'll have protection for the sprint then drop the shield when charging. (Unless you want to test your luck with just 2 dice).

The rolling is done, I'm just doing the write-up now. Tracking 16 different entities in a fight is not a fun task, but I do enjoy rolling in the background for the other 15 characters.
>>
>>4571698
it was very brave of you to do this kind of roll crunching autism on your very first quest. not something I would recommend personally.
>>
Round 3
Order of Initiative: Grey Jeyne ->Reek ->Ramsay ->Maude ->Yellow Dick ->Lew ->Beron ->Hal ->Owen ->Tommard ->Ben Bones

--- Grey Jeyne Attack 2 (Tommard) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 10, Result: Tommard Damaged, 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries

--- Reek Marksmanship Attack 3 (Owen) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 11, Result: Owen Damaged, 3/15 Health, 0/5 Injuries

--- Ramsay Marksmanship Attack 3 (Lew) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 11, Result: Lew Damaged, 1/12 Health, 0/4 Injuries

--- Maude Attack 2 (Owen) ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 11, Result: Owen Damaged, 1/15 Health, 0/5 Injuries

--- Yellow Dick Attack 1 (Lew) ---
Rolled 18 vs CD 8, Result: Lew Damaged, 1/12 Health, 2/4 Injuries

--- Lew Attack 1 (Yellow Dick) ---
Rolled 19 vs CD 11, Result: Yellow Dick Damaged, 1/9 Health, 0/3 Injuries

--- Beron Charge (Yellow Dick) ---
Rolled 17 vs CD 11, Result: Yellow Dick Damaged, 1/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries

--- Hal Marksmanship Attack 3 (Maude) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 12, Result: Maude Damaged, 3/9 Health

--- Owen Attack 2 (Maude) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 9, Result: Maude Slain!

--- Tommard Attack 3 (Grey Jeyne) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 9, Result: Grey Jeyne Slain!

--- Ben Bones Marksmanship Attack 3 (Tommard) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 10, Result: Tommard Slain!
>>
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>>4571766
The hound must have sensed Owen rushing at her from behind, because it takes the initiative and launches at him first, before Owen can swing his weapon. It latches on to his leg and does not let go, despite Owen’s attempts to fend it off. The two-handed mattock he uses proves unwieldy at close-range, and you decide to help him out before another of your friends is taken from you. You line your shot carefully to avoid hitting Owen by accident, and it lacks the usual punch when the dog is hit in her hind quarters. But it is enough to make the dog yelp, releasing its hold on Owen. That gives him sufficient time to swing his mattock from overhead, burying the axe-head in the beast’s skull. You have avenged one of Torrhen’s killers, but the others remain on the hill, raining down arrows at you.

To the side Lew’s duel continues with the man in the brigandine, both exchanging blows. Lew lands a mighty hit on the man’s left shoulder, ruining his pauldron and causing blood to rain down his side. But when he takes a step back, a lucky arrow strikes his helmet. Although it doesn’t penetrate, Lew’s head is soundly ringed as he careens to his side. His opponent takes advantage of his temporary lapse, and delivers swift blows to his arms and abdomen, slashing through his armour and drawing blood, swatting aside Lew’s half-hearted stabs easily with his shield.

Beron rushes to his friend’s defense, charging at the man in the brigandine from behind, attacking his weakened left shoulder, then following up with a strike on his shin. The man falters, but somehow still manages to hold on to his sword and shield, now facing both opponents at once. The entire upper left side of his armour is exposed, and you can see that he’s affected by the king’s evil on his neck, now bleeding angrily.

From the corner of your eye, you observe with dismay as Tommard falls, an arrow sticking from the back of his head. He was no fighter, just a simple miller, yet he had taken down a hound with him. Another of your allies fallen, you think grimly. Just this morning you had returned his son’s sword to him and promised him vengeance, and now he lay dead with the same sword in his hands. Dead on the forest floor, just like his son. Who would you give that sword to now? Would his daughter come to the forest tomorrow with this same sword, wanting to avenge her brother and father? No, you had to end this now.

With unimaginable hate in your eyes, you look up at the hill, the three bowmen taking aim once again. They had reaped a bloody toll today, but now their comrades were dead, and you could focus on them. Perhaps you would let them suffer a bit before you allowed them to die. Owen pulls an arrow from where it’s stuck in his boot, and readies himself to charge up the hill. The only question is, would you join him in the charge, or try your luck from here?
>>
>>4571768
What do you do now?

>Charge up the hill with Owen. It was time to bring the fight to them. Lew and Beron would join you after they deal with the armoured man.
>Stay here with your bow while Lew and Beron deal with the man in the armour, then charge up together.

Keep in mind again that the bowmen are one turn of sprint + one turn of charge away from you. You wouldn't be able to attack on the round with the sprint. On the charge you take -1D for +2 base damage. You have 4d6 (no bonus die) when rolling for Fighting. The bowmen won't have the +5 CD in melee combat.
>>
>>4571771
Can we spend an action to order (convince?) Owen to stick together, as well as engage Dick? He could catch his breath in the meantime.
>>
>>4571771
>>Charge up the hill with Owen. It was time to bring the fight to them. Lew and Beron would join you after they deal with the armoured man.
>>
>>4571838
You don't need an order for that if you want to do that. I'll count it as a free action. So you want to hang back and fire for a round while letting Owen catch his breath? Yeah, you can do that with the second option. Be warned though, the enemy archers will still be firing.
>>
>>4571843
And use the stiletto instead of the bow against that man.
>>
>>4571771
>Charge

>>4571838
Seems like a bad idea, I'm pretty sure catching his breath won't bring back as many hp as he'd lose catch extra arrows.
>>
I'll catch a nap and come back to this later. Vote is open until then. If the Charge option wins, there's no rolls this round and I'll directly post the update. Otherwise I'll call for rolls.
>>
>>4571854
He will catch all three by rushing solo.
>>
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Round 4
Order of Initiative: Reek -> Lew -> Ramsay -> Owen -> Hal -> Beron -> Yellow Dick -> Ben Bones

--- Reek Marksmanship Attack 4 (Hal) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 10, Result: Hal Damaged, 6/9 Health. 1/3 Injuries, 0/3 Wounds

--- Lew Attack 2 (Yellow Dick) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 11, Result: Yellow Dick Slain!

--- Ramsay Marksmanship Attack 4 (Lew) ---
Rolled 9 vs CD 8, Result: Lew Injured, 1/12 Health, 3/4 Injuries

--- Owen Action: Sprint (Greater) ---

--- Hal Action: Sprint (Greater) ---

--- Beron Action: Sprint (Greater) ---

--- Ben Bones Marksmanship Attack 4 (Owen) ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 8, Result: Owen Injured, 1/15 Health, 2/5 Injuries
___

While you are still pondering over your next action, you see Lew slowly stand and right himself. Taking advantage of his opponent being distracted by Beron’s spirited attacks, Lew raises his halberd overhead, and with a powerful swing rips into the man’s exposed neck, lopping off his head at an angle. For his efforts, Lew receives one more arrow, this time planting itself into his side, and he collapses to his knees once again.

That decides it for you then. You see Beron shout something to Lew, and after a moment he turns to lock eyes with you, his intent clear in the burning rage behind them. You give him a nod and follow Owen, both of you charging up the hill. Your foes started this fight outnumbering you, but now you are 4 men to their 3. Good odds, you think, even though Lew is unlikely to aid you much right now. You exchange your bow for your stiletto, and take Grunt’s dagger in your other hand. Fine steel, you think once more, it will help you bring down his friends.

More arrows descend from the hill as you advance, one striking you straight in your chest. Although it is stopped by a hard piece of leather and some metal bindings, it still hurts you greatly. You imagine there’s already a bruise forming underneath, and pull off the broken point from your armour. Owen on the other hand is hit by an arrow in his thigh, but it does not seem to phase him. In fact, he yells out and runs faster than before towards the bowmen.

You are almost upon them now, just a few more yards, and at this distance you can see their faces clearly. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the leader, his armour appearing even more grotesque up close. All along the red and pink scales there are carvings resembling veins and muscles, as if he is wearing the flayed skin of another man as his armour. His sword is shaped like a long-bladed meat cleaver, and topped with a hilt of yellowed bone. He is flanked by the other two archers on each side.

One is an old man in soft leathers, with balding grey hair. He trembles when he sees that you and Owen come so close, like a frightened animal. This one was not made for battle, you think. The other is a brown haired, sickly-looking man, with a nasty expression stuck to his face. You can smell an awful odour, clearly coming from him, as if he hasn’t bathed in a month.
>>
>>4572321
All three of them ready one last volley of arrows before you fell upon them. But there were only two of you, who did you attack?

Owen:
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Reek in hard leather armour wielding a longbow and a longsword
>Ben Bones in soft leather armour wielding a hunting bow, a dagger and a dirk

You:
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Reek in hard leather armour wielding a longbow and a longsword
>Ben Bones in soft leather armour wielding a hunting bow, a dagger and a dirk

You will both be using Charge. Owen has rank 3 in Fighting, you have rank 4. Charging reduces the test dice by 1 to increase damage by 2. In addition, Ramsay has the Sinister benefit, giving his opponents -1D on their first attack against him. His armour has AR 7, and his Health is 9, giving him 3 injuries and 3 wounds. He also has a Destiny Point, like you.
>>
>>4572328
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
Maybe the rest will scatter after their leader is taken down.
>>
>>4572328
>>4572445
Agreed. Both go for Ramsay. He's clearly the leader and even if we don't survive at least we can rid the world of the bastard responsible for all this.

Out of curiosity Elsweyr, is Roose's true born son still alive this point?
>>
>>4572583
Nope. That's why he has the fancy armour, castle-forged weapons and the Bastard's Boys following him, Roose has taken him in finally. Earlier it was just him and Reek.

I'll leave this open for a little while longer. Hopefully we can get at least 3 votes in.
>>
>>4572589
Had a feeling that might be the case.

And I guess that leads to the next question, is our village on Bolton lands?
I know the miller wanted to seek aid from Roose but was that because he's our lord or just because he's nearby and the ''brigands'' used his sigil?
>>
>>4572328
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
Should we die then at least we die gloriously
>>
>>4572445
>>4572583
>>4572612
Alright, calling it. Give me 3 rolls of 3d6-1 for Fighting. Roll high to get at least 2 degrees.

Whoever attacks him first by order of initiative takes a -1D.

>>4572600
It's in Bolton lands.
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 5 - 1 = 14 (3d6 - 1)

>>4572628
>>
Give me those rolls, bros.. I can get at least two more rounds done today.
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 4 - 1 = 13 (3d6 - 1)

>>4572628
>>
Rolled 5, 5, 5 - 1 = 14 (3d6 - 1)

>>4572628
>>
>>4572664
>>4572850
>>4572882
Alright, thanks for rolling. I forgot that the superior dagger gives you +1 to Fighting. I'll do the calculations myself. Writing now!
>>
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Round 5
Order of Intiative: Hal -> Beron -> Reek ->Ramsay ->Owen ->Ben Bones -> Lew

--- Hal Charge (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 7, Result: Ramsay Damaged, 7/9 Health

--- Beron Action: Sprint (Greater) ---

--- Reek Marksmanship Attack 5 (Hal) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 13, Attack Failed!
Rolled 12 vs CD 7 (Ramsay), Result: Ramsay Damaged, 3/9 Health

--- Ramsay Attack 1 (Hal) ---
Rolled 22 vs CD 10, Result: Hal Wounded, 6/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries, 1/3 Wounds

--- Owen Charge (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 7, Result: Ramsay Injured, 3/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries

--- Ben Bones Marksmanship Attack 5 (Lew) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 8, Result: Lew Slain!
___

Your instincts tell you that if you let the archers loose at you all at once, you’ll be done for. If the village lost so many fighters today, it’ll be open for attack by these monsters. How could you know that these were all of them? That there weren’t ten more bandits wherever they camped? All the women and children back in the village would be vulnerable then. You think of Kyra, and Beth, and what these bandits would do to them if they survived today.

That last thought enrages you, more than you were before, and you use that energy to run faster in the last stretch, before you can be riddled with shafts. You leap over the makeshift barricade they had erected, using it as a stepping stone, to attack the leader. If you cut off the head of the snake, the body will wither away, you remember. Words of wisdom Torrhen taught you. Blinking away your tears, you land on the armoured man with your dagger raised.

He quickly drops his bow and in one smooth motion draws his sword and bats away your dagger. But that was the distraction, you smile grimly, and sink your stiletto between his scales. You take a step forward to push it deeper, going face to face with the man, causing him to let out a low animalistic groan. Before you can withdraw, an arrow lodges itself into the man’s hip, and the both of you look sideways at the younger of the bowmen.

He shakes like a leaf in the wind, muttering apologies. “Lord Ramsay.. Please! I didn’t mean to! Take my fingers, please!”

Lord? That gives you pause. Were you fighting a noble all along like Yoren, the farmer, warned you? As far as you knew Lord Bolton’s only son died a few months ago. You have no time to ponder this puzzle because ‘Ramsay’ takes advantage of your hesitation, and slashes your right hand at the elbow with his sword. It pierces through your armour like a hot knife through butter, leaving a deep gash in your main arm.

You manage to withdraw somehow without losing hold of your stiletto, but your arm is quickly losing blood, waves of pain coursing through it.
>>
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>>4572974
Ramsay barks at the man who shot him, “Aim at the others, you fool! If you hit me again, I’ll flay you myself.” He growls. He’s quite a young man, you realize, mayhaps even younger than you. And quite wealthy judging from his armour and the weapons they used. Why would someone like him be driven to banditry?

As you take a step back to clutch your elbow, Owen steps in, charging at Ramsay with a flurry of blows. He delivers cuts and slashes with the axe head to Ramsay’s less protected legs, evading his clumsy attempts at counter-attacks. Quickly his armour acquires a deeper shade of crimson, his blood being darker than the dye. Beron finally reaches you with his shield held ahead of him, wary of the arrows that have felled the others today.

If only it was him that the old archer attacked next. Seeing him too well armoured and minimally damaged from the fighting, the bowman aims upwards, loosing his arrow at Lew, who was sitting in a puddle of his blood. The arrow takes Lew in his eye, and he goes down wordlessly. One more among your number down today.

As you mourn another loss, deep down you dread that you were the cause of these deaths today. Had you not convinced them that this was the only way, to walk into a trap knowingly, they would all be alive today. Could you face anyone back at the village after this? How could you show your face, having led these men to their deaths?

Beron charges with a roar, reminding you that there is still a battle to be fought.

Who does Beron charge?
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>Reek in hard leather armour wielding a longbow and a longsword
>Ben Bones in soft leather armour wielding a hunting bow, a dagger and a dirk

Also give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Fighting. (4D +1B -1B Training -1 Injury +1 Superior Dagger -1D Wound)
>>
>>4572977
>>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
Swamp the bastard

And who knows, if we're all in combat with Ramsay maybe the risk of hitting him again will scare Reek into doing nothing.
>>
>>4573006
Don't forget to roll as well.
>>
Rolled 1, 4, 5 = 10 (3d6)

>>4572977
>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>>
>>4572977
Use lucky if all 3 roll low. We need 12 at least.

I also noticed -1B Training. Does it mean that the dagger that we wield is a left-hand dagger?
In that case shouldn't Hal's CD be 11? 10+2(defensive quality)-1(armor penalty)?

And is picrelated us warging into a direwolf to finish the job after we die in the fight?
>>
>>4573066
-1B Training is for the Stiletto. The dagger is a normal one with +1 Defensive and +1 Off-hand. You can only use one of them at a time. Since this was a charge, I thought the +1 Off-hand would be more useful. You can switch to the +1 Defensive if you want, but you have just 3 damage from the stiletto, so that would be unwise.

Also when I said that you've been given reinforced soft armour, what I meant was Superior Soft Leather, using rules from Malroy quest for superior armour, so it has 3 AR, 0 AP, 0 Bulk. I'll post the updated stat sheet when I resume writing to clear things up. I'd go full stats autism like I did in the first fight, but with 16 characters involved it would take like 2-3 posts each round. I'll reserve it for one on one fights.

>spoiler
Haha no, it's just a random pic I found while browsing Pinterest.
>>
>>4573087
>-1B Training is for the Stiletto.
How does it work? I thought with Fighting 4, Short blades 1 Hal qualifies for using one without any penalty.
No autism, just clarify things.

Also, if Ramsay intends to use/burn his DP to do something, lets use ours to cancel the fucker.
>>
>>4573091
That's alright. I'm using the rulebook linked in the OP, and the relevant section for Training says:
>Whenever a weapon indicates 1B, 2B, and so on under training, you lose the indicated number of bonus dice from your Fighting or Marksmanship tests with the weapon. If the penalty reduces your bonus dice to less than 0 (or you have none to begin with), you take a penalty die on your tests with the weapon for each additional –1.

Is there some other part which says otherwise? I'll admit, the rulebook can get arcane at times, and put me off running a quest several times.
>>
>>4573099
The quoted part should be taken together with the previous sentence in the paragraph.
>Certain weapons require a minimum level of specialized training to wield properly and those without the minimum specialty rank find fighting with these weapons more challenging than simpler ones.
So my understanding is that you are penalized by the amount of bonus dice specified in weapon description until you reach the required level of training.
For Hal and his Short blades 1 it should just be +1B on fighting tests with Stiletto.
>>
>>4573103
I think you're misunderstanding this part:
>If the penalty reduces your bonus dice to less than 0 (or you have none to begin with), you take a penalty die on your tests with the weapon for each additional –1
Here 'penalty die' means -1D and 'penalty' means -1B. So you take -1B for each rank of Training required, and if you have less than the Training required, you take -1D. All the Asoiaf quests I've participated in have done it this way, and it has worked well so far. Those longbows would have wrecked you even more, because each of them negated 1b Training from their users.

I'll still need 2 more rolls of 3d6 and hopefully one more vote. I'll be back in a few hours.
>>
Rolled 1, 3, 3 = 7 (3d6)

>>4572977
>>Ramsay in reinforced scale armour wielding a longbow and a falchion (longsword)
>>
Rolled 3, 5, 6 = 14 (3d6)

>>4573013
>>4572977
Whoops

>>4573109
It's how all the other quests have done it and it's how I interpret the rules as they're written too. I'm not sure it's a good rule - none of the weapons on offer really seem worth losing a bonus die for - but the rules are what they are.
>>
Sorry guys, but I broke my glasses today, and I don't have a replacement on hand, so I'm running blind here. I'll be back as soon as I can.
>>
Rolled 4, 5, 3 = 12 (3d6)

>>4572977
>>Ben Bones in soft leather armour wielding a hunting bow, a dagger and a dirk
>>
Round 6
Order of Initiative: Reek -> Beron -> Ramsay -> Ben Bones -> Hal ->Owen

--- Reek Marksmanship Attack 6 (Beron) ---
Rolled 18 vs CD 8, Three Degrees of Success
5 x 3 = 15 Damage – 6 AR = 9 Damage
One injury taken, 9-3= 6 Damage + 1 Piercing = 7 Damage
Beron Injured, 2/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries

--- Beron Charge (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
8 x 2 = 16 Damage – 7 AR = 9 Damage.
1 Wound Taken, Ramsay 3/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 1/3 Wounds

--- Ramsay Attack 2 ---
Rolled 22 vs CD 8, Three Degrees of Success
5 x 3 = 15 Damage – 6 AR = 9 Damage.
Two injuries taken, 9-6 = 3 Damage
2 Health -3 Damage = -1 Health. Beron Slain!

--- Ben Bones Action: Sprint (Greater) ---
Rolled 17 vs DC 12, Two Degrees of Success
22 yards moved

--- Hal Attack 1 (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 7 AR = 1 Damage
3-1= 2 Health. Piercing 2 Activated, 1 Wound taken.
Ramsay 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 2/3 Wounds

--- Owen Attack 3 (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
6 x 2 = 12 Damage – 7 AR = 5 Damage
1 Wound Taken. Ramsay 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 3/3 Wounds
>>
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>>4574319
As Beron charges at Ramsay holding his sword with both hands, an arrow strikes him in the abdomen, piercing deeply. You follow its trail quickly to see that the younger man who smelled had taken Ramday’s advice, and struck at Beron before he reached Ramsay. Beron’s attack does not slow, though, and his forceful downward slash breaks through Ramsay’s stumbling guard. It bores through his hideous gorget, and drives into his neck.

However, the bastard sword gets stuck in the gorget, and despite Beron’s attempts to free it, it does not budge. Ramsay cackles madly, and uses one hand to push the arrow in Beron’s stomach deeper. Beron cries out in agony, abandoning his sword and dropping his hands to his stomach to stop the intrusion. Ramsay wields his sword like a butchers’s cleaver, and uses the opening to hack repeatedly at Beron’s neck, attacking once, twice, thrice, until his armour gives way, and you hear the sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking. Beron’s hands drop to his side, as his body shudders to the ground and he lets out wet and bloody gurgles. One more man dead on your watch, you think with despair.

Ramsay, still laughing uproariously, pulls out Beron’s sword from his neck, and eyes you with a challenge. “I know it was you, ‘Hal’” he says, rolling your name on his tongue, “You killed my men yesterday. You’ve killed my men now, and my girls. I can forgive you for the men, but not for the girls. Helicent, Grey Jeyne, Maude, Sara, Willow. After I’m done with you, I’ll take one girl from your little village for each of mine you’ve killed. Maybe I’ll start with your sister, pretty thing that she is. And you can have her afterwards, Reek.” He says to the stinking man to his side, who grins lecherously.

Your anger which had drained away returns in full force, and you worry how Ramsay knows so much about you, especially your sister. Perhaps something you could ask him when you held a blade to his neck. Bellowing with outrage, both you and Owen fall upon him, weapons now glistening with blood.

He counters your assault aggressively, but try as he might, he cannot block both of you, and in trying to do so his attention becomes divided, and his movements uncoordinated. While he’s distracted parrying your stiletto, Owen digs deep into his knee with the pointed end of his weapon. He falls to his other knee with a groan, and you exploit the opportunity to sink your dagger into the gap where his gorget had been damaged. You learn from Beron’s mistake and withdraw the dagger quickly, before it can get stuck. Ramsay still does not let go of his sword, however, and you ready yourself for one more round.

-----

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Fighting. Also, Ramsay will burn his Destiny Point next round to remove all injuries and restore his health back to full. Do you burn your own destiny point to negate the effect of Ramsay's destiny point?
>Yes, burn destiny point
>No, keep destiny point
>>
>>4574321
>>Yes, burn destiny point
>>
Rolled 3, 4, 6 = 13 (3d6)

>>4574321
>Yes. Burn destiny point.
With all the casualties we've taken we don't stand a chance if he's back at full health.
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 6 = 11 (3d6)

>>4574321
>Yes, burn destiny point
>>
>>4574335
Don't forget to roll!

Some trivia: Ramsay rolled 33 out of 36 on his roll to kill Beron. 6,6,6,6,5,4. Fucking crazy. If he had one less injury he'd have four degrees of success despite a wound and three injuries.
>>
Rolled 4, 4, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>>4574335
>>
>>4574343
>>4574344
>>4574349
>13
Alright, safe to say he's dead. But not just yet. I'll start rolling then writing. Might take 1-2 hours.
>>
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Round 7
Order of Initiative: Reek ->Hal ->Owen ->Ben Bones ->Ramsay

--- Reek Attack 1 (Owen) ---
Rolled 18 vs CD 11, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 1 AR = 7 Damage.
Two Injuries Taken.
Owen: 1/15 Health, 4/5 Injuries

--- Hal Attack 2 (Ramsay) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 7 AR = 1 Damage
Ramsay 1/9 Health, 3/3 Wounds, 3/3 Injuries
*Piercing 2 Activated*, Ramsay Defeated.

--- Owen Attack 4 (Reek) ---
Rolled 12 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
6 x 2 = 12 Damage – 3 AR = 9 Damage
1 Injury Taken, 9-3 = 6 Damage.
Reek: 3/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries, 0/1 Wound

--- Ben Bones Action: Sprint (Greater) ---
Rolled 14 vs DC 12, One Degree of Success
21 yards moved

------

“Lord Ramsay, no! How dare you touch him, you worthless louts!” The man, Reek, wails, as he abandons his bow for a longsword, and moves to fight you. The display of courage belies his appearance of a sickly coward, and his devotion to Ramsay is evident. Birds of a feather…

“Finish him, Hal. I’ll handle this.” says Owen, and advances towards Reek with his mattock raised. Wary of more surprises, you look around for the old bowman, but it appears he had less confidence in Ramsay than Reek, and abandoned them both for dead. He’s running back down the hill, a shield strapped to his back. The same shield which Beron brought up, taken from his dead opponent.

Ramsay tries swinging his sword one last time at your head, but his movements have slowed to a crawl, from exhaustion or blood loss you cannot say. You deflect the blow easily, and wrench the sword from his hands, throwing it a good distance away. Your elbow is paining from the wound, so you stomp on both his legs to break them, ensuring that he won’t be giving up any time soon. Ramsay howls in pain, still defiant, but you pay him no mind. He does not deserve the mercy of a quick death. You'll take your sweet time with him, but you have to finish this fight first.

To your side Owen is locked in a fierce duel with Reek, who has a frenzied look in his eyes. Seeing you break Ramsay’s legs, Reek becomes enraged and attacks Owen with renewed vigour. He is unexpectedly skilled with his sword, and his fighting style is very similar to Ramsay’s. He uses his sword more like a large blunt knife, hacking and slashing more than dealing precise strikes. He delivers a broad cut to Owen’s chest, simple clothes not impeding the sword at all. Although the cut is not too deep, Owen mewls in anguish. On his part, Owen rends into Reek’s hip where the armour offers little protection. You have to step in now, before your last friend can be taken from you.

-----

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Fighting. Roll high (12 or above), it would be a shame to survive this far then get killed by fucking Reek.
>>
Rolled 5, 6, 4 = 15 (3d6)

>>4574398
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 4 = 8 (3d6)

>>4574398
Let's go
>>
I'm getting a pretty major headache adjusting to these new glasses. Looking at screens feels like torture right now. So I'm going to take a break and rest my eyes for a few hours. I'll try again in 7-8 hours, see if I can get the fight done. If you survive, there's one more plot point to go through.
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 1 = 11 (3d6)

>>4574398
>>
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Round 8:
Order of Initiative: Owen ->Reek ->Hal ->Ben Bones

--- Owen Attack 5 (Reek) ---
Rolled 13 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
6 x 2 = 12 Damage – 3 AR = 9 Damage
1 Wound Taken. Reek 3/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries, 1/1 Wounds

--- Reek Attack 2 (Owen) ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 11, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 1 AR = 7 Damage.
One Injury Taken, 7 – 5 = 2 Damage.
1 Health -2 Damage = -1 Health, Owen Slain!

--- Hal Attack 3 (Reek) ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 7, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 3 AR = 5 Damage.
One Injury Taken, 5 – 3 = 2 Damage.
3 Health – 2 Damage = 1 Health.
Piercing 2 Activated, One Injury Taken.
Reek 1/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 1/1 Wound

--- Ben Bones Action: Sprint (Greater) ---
Rolled 16 vs DC 12, One Degree of Success
21 yards moved

-----

Round 8
Order of Initiative: Ben Bones ->Hal -> Reek

--- Ben Bones Action: Sprint (Greater) ---
Rolled 13 vs DC 12, One Degree of Success
21 yards moved

--- Hal Attack 4 (Reek) ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 7, One Degree of Success
4 x 1 = 4 Damage – 3 AR = 1 Damage.
Reek Slain!

-----


Owen and Reek go for another round of blows before you cam jump in the fight. Although Owen is slowing down considerably, you watch with alarm. He’s been hit pelted with arrows, attacked by hunting hounds, and now bleeding rapidly from his chest. The wounds are taking their toll, and his blows seem to have less power behind them. But he still has some tricks left up his sleeve. He feigns an overhead attack, then quickly brings his weapon low, hooking the pointed end behind Reek’s feet, then sends him off his feet with a sweep. Reek falls to the ground, and his head cracks audibly as it meets the hard earth. Then he lays still.

Owen, thinking the fight to be over, drops to the ground to catch his breath, and tries to stop his chest from bleeding by wadding up his torn clothes into makeshift bandages. You come to a stop behind Reek, Owen being on his opposite side, when you see his arm moving. You cry out in warning and try to stop him, but the reach of your weapons is too short. By the time your stiletto reaches his throat, Reek has buried his sword inside Owen’s chest, deep enough that the point is sticking out from his back.

Owen, who was already on the ground, collapses backwards with a grunt. You roar with rage and pounce upon Reek, digging both your weapons in his torso, his neck, any part that is vulnerable. By the time you’re done his body resembles a block of cheese with the number of new holes you’ve made in it. The stench is worse than ever before.
>>
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>>4575245
But the damage has already been done. You sheathe your weapons and rush to Owen’s side, but he has already stopped moving. Your last friend has been taken from you by these monsters. He was always too eager to jump into a fight, despite having more brawns than skill. You recall his words to you yesterday, that he was never meant to be a farmer. On a whim he was ready to go to Winterfell and sell his sword, even though he didn’t have one.

He was unskilled with weapons like the other two farmers who ran, not wearing more than sturdy clothes to protect him. But still he came with you here, on your word. He wanted to go back to the village and fortify it, using your superior numbers and knowledge of the terrain as advantages, but you convinced him to walk willingly into the trap. You look around the field in despair, with the bodies of your friends strewn around. Carrion birds have already started circling overhead, eager to get a bite out of the fresh carnage you’ve caused. The old man has run far into the distance now, weaving carefully through the traps they set for you.

But the bodies draw your attention once again. Why were you the only one alive? Why had the Gods punished you for your audacity by taking away everyone but you? You told them before coming here that you were wolves, not lambs being led merrily to their slaughter. But it turned out that you were the wolf, and the others the lambs. You hold Owen’s hand in yours, and weep long and sorrowfully into his chest, cursing your luck.

By the time your tears are dried, the sun has begun to set, orange hues framing the sad scene before you. You’ve arranged the bodies of your friends on the trail peacefully in a line, armed with their weapons resting on their chests. You used whatever cloaks or cloth you could find to cover their bodies for now, to protect them from the vultures, who’ve already started feasting on the bandits’ corpses. Ramsay is still alive, because you tossed some makeshift bandages to him too, if only so you could question him with a level head. His extensive armour has protected him from the scavengers so far.

You kneel down to face him, but he’s passed out from his wounds. Perhaps you could take him back to the village and heal him enough to ask questions. Or you could kill him right here. But it was clearly a mistake not to deal with him when he was awake and conscious. If you killed him now, you would be robbed of the slow, painful death you promised to give him. There was also the question of Reek calling him a Lord. Was he truly Lord Bolton’s son or was he just a bandit appropriating the title? Would you anger Lord Bolton by killing Ramsay? A massacre of this scale would reach his ears, surely. Would you be better served by stringing up Ramsay and presenting him to Lord Bolton as a bandit you had captured? Question and more question puzzled you, and there were no answers forthcoming. All you knew was that you had to decide now.
>>
>>4575247

What do you do?
>Take Ramsay back to the village to heal him (to question/kill/turn him over)
>Kill Ramsay right here

Important vote, so I'll leave it up for a while. I used the second roll (11) to finish up the fight. That +1 to Reek's Fighting due to Superior Weapon killed Owen, getting the necessary two degrees.
>>
>>4575250
>>Kill Ramsay right here
Ideally right fucking now before he wakes. Although we can wake him up and make it slow if anon's are desperate.

If we let him live and it turns out he is the son of a lord then either he survives, holds a grudge and comes back to torture our sister, or he tells people he is Roose's son and that we attacked without provocation and Roosie is forced to flay us all or admit that his son was acting a brigand.
If we kill him now before he tells us what he is then we have no reason to involve Roose and Roose has no pressure to acknowledge what's happened.
>>
>>4575250
>>Kill Ramsay right here
>>
>>4575250
>>Kill Ramsay right here
>>
>>4575250
>If we kill him now before he tells us what he is then we have no reason to involve Roose and Roose has no pressure to acknowledge what's happened.
The old man will 1000% sure tell on us.

>>4575250
>Kill Ramsay right here
Remove that filth.

I'm thinking with the kind of baggage Hallis acquired his only option now is to take the black and hope that Roose doesn't wipe out the village with our family. And forever watch his back for bolton assassins.
>>
>>4575448
>The old man will 1000% sure tell on us.
Yes, I was hoping we'd get an opportunity to track him down once Reek was dead but it seems we've lost that chance.

It might not be the end of the world though, depends on how pragmatic vs sentimental Roose is feeling when he gets the news.
I see 3 key motivators for Roose here
>1. A desire not to lose face by admitting his son was an unhinged psycho,
>2. A desire not to lose face by recognising that a group of his serfs rose up in rebellion (albeit a justified and unintentional one) and attacked their betters,
>2a A need to enforce order and punish said serfs if he has to recogonise their 'rebellion',
>3 Any genuine love for his son.
If Ramsey lives then his existence forces Roose to confront what his bastard did and that a group peasants attacked him. The obvious option is to conceal it - hang us +/- our family/friends/little dog and tell everyone we were the brigands who launched an unprovoked attack on his boy.
If Ramsey's dead then the easiest option (certainly the most pragmatic option) is to brush it under the carpet. He doesn't lose face by admitting his son was a monster and he doesn't need to enforce order because we weren't a group of peasants attacking a noble bastard, we were just executing some nameless brigands who certainly didn't include his son. If he punishes us then people will wonder why - maybe he feels emotional enough about the death to do so but I'm hopeful he'd just shrug it off as something Ramsay brought on himself. He'd might have to kill Ben Bones if he really wants to brush it under the carpet.
>>
Alright, this seems to be going unanimously for killing him. I have some plans for the weekend, so I'll take some time with the next update, no later than a day. Also I want to reply to some posts, but it's impossible without giving out spoilers, so I'll settle for thanking you for the thoughtful and well-reasoned posts.
>>
>>4575250
>>Kill Ramsay right here
>>
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>Kill Ramsay right here

You take off Ramsay’s ghastly helm as you ponder over your decision. He is an ugly young man, with pink and blotchy skin. He has a small mouth and a broad nose, and he wears a garnet shaped like a drop of blood in his right ear. He cannot be older than Kyra, you think. That reminds you of his words, of the repugnant acts he promised to visit upon your family. This man cut down Beron single-handedly, and his arrows felled Rickard and Tommard. You think of Beth, what were you going to tell her when you went back home alone, without her father with you? Will she even look at you anymore once she learns of your folly?

Anger returns to you once more, at yourself, at your cursed luck, at these bandits, and finally at Ramsay laying before you. Son of a Lord or no, this man was too dangerous, and too vile to let live. Bringing him into your own home to be healed was unthinkable, not with Kyra and your mother still there. No, you would kill him here and now, and remove all possibility of him returning to torment you. If he was just an upjumped bandit with delusions of grandeur, as you suspected, then the matter would end with his death. But if he was truly Lord Bolton’s son… perhaps you could take Hother up on his offer to go to Winterfell, maybe even flee across the narrow sea. You could think about that later when your rage had cooled some.

The decision made, you bring the point of your stiletto to Ramsay’s chest and start pushing it in towards his heart. His fleshy torso offers little resistance as you slowly penetrate it further, blood starting to leak from the fresh wound. In his last moments, Ramsay wakes up with a piercing shriek, and his hands come up to push away yours. But he has grown weak to his injuries, and the slow descent of your blade continues despite his screeching protests. Perhaps you’ll derive some satisfaction out of his death after all.

Just as you’re about to pierce his heart, he whispers two words, perhaps his last. “Your eyes”, he murmurs, and his body stops still as if he’s seen the Others themselves. You lock your eyes with his, which you hadn’t really noticed before. They are widened almost comically, and what you see makes you pause as much as him. He has small, close-set eyes, but what’s most distinctive about them is their colour. They are pale, almost white with small specks of blue, like two chips of dirty ice. Just like yours. You blink in confusion and stare at them, and slowly see the light go out of them, just as his arms fall back to his sides.
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>>4576037
You look downwards to see that you had driven the stiletto all the way into his heart. Yet his body did not so much as twitch in its shock. Was this just a coincidence? It had to be, there was no other way to explain this. Only your father had eyes similar to yours, and you were sure he was not the type to father bastards on mistresses. He loves your mother too much for that, even if he does not say it. You are in a daze yourself as you close his eyes, the less you could think about them the better. You had no time for more questions right now.

You glance at the setting sun and consider your options. The carrion birds were out in full strength, picking at the corpses of the other bandits. If you left Ramsay’s body as it is, they would surely pick it clean in time. You could also bury or burn it to further hide the evidence, if he was truly Lord Bolton’s son.

Then there was the question of the old man who ran away. He headed East towards the abandoned mine. Where Torrhen wanted to go, you think regretfully. The old man was fast, but he did not seem the hunting-sort to you, would he know his way around the forest without the hounds? You knew these woods intimately, and the fastest way to the mines from here involved veering off the trail for a ways to avoid the ravine near the mine. Would the old man know this? If the bandits had indeed made their camp at the mine, perhaps you could intercept him before he ran off with whatever stolen goods they had looted so far or to inform others of what transpired here today.

But that would mean going off in his pursuit for the night, and leaving your family clueless as to your whereabouts. They were worried as it is, would the remaining villagers send out a search party in the night for your group? The smell of blood and flesh would attract wolves in the night, and you doubted your father’s capability to fight them off. You hoped the wolves would leave the bodies of your friends alone, where they were covered in heavy clothes. The pain in your wounded arm pulses once more, reminding you that you were not in a good shape yourself. You do not how well you would fare in another fight today after the beating you've taken.

Once again, you’re left with questions and assumptions, and very little time to decide.

What do you do?
>Stay here and bury or burn Ramsay’s body to erase evidence
>Go to the abandoned mine in the hopes of stopping Ben Bones before he can leave
>Go back to your village and heal.
>Something else (Write-in)
>>
>>4576042
>Go back to your village and heal.
Hallis has no capacity for further fighting. I say leave the body to the wolves.
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>>4576042
>>Go to the abandoned mine in the hopes of stopping Ben Bones before he can leave
We're a damn hunter and we're pretty fresh as far as injuries/wounds go. I'm pretty sure we could track Benny Boy down and put a couple of arrows in his back without much risk. We'll stay at a distance so we can disengage easily if it turns out there's more than just Ben back in the cave.

I'm hopeful that our family and the rest of the villagers will trust us enough to stay at home. They know we were hunting dangerous bandits, leaving the women and children of the village undefended to go roaming through the woods at night in a small group is a terrible idea. If they're worried about us having been hurt then they must know that any group they send out after us (which will be much smaller and MUCH less well armed) will just get in the way.
>>
Leaving it open for a few more hours. I really don't want to proceed with just two votes.
>>
>>4576302
What's the summary of Hal's state? I swear I saw him taking a wound previously but now I only found an injury at round 4.

In the case it is correct I'll join in stalking Ben.
>>
>>4576042
>>Go to the abandoned mine in the hopes of stopping Ben Bones before he can leave
>>
>>4576639
Hal is at 1/3 injuries and 1/3 wounds. No destiny point, but I'll award you two more glory points for a total for 4. (You can use these for a +1B on a test).
>>
Alright, calling it. Give me 3 rolls of 4d6-1 for Survival (Orientation). The more degrees of success you have over Ben Bones, the faster you find him.
>>
Rolled 3, 5, 4, 2 = 14 (4d6)

>>4576712
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 2, 4 - 1 = 9 (4d6 - 1)

>>4576712
>>
Rolled 3, 2, 6, 5 - 1 = 15 (4d6 - 1)

>>4576712
>>
>>4576714 12
>>4576720 7
>>4576725 13
Not too good, barely one degree. Give me 3 rolls of 3d6-1 to see if you can sneak up on him (for a +1D advantage).
>>
Rolled 5, 2, 6 = 13 (3d6)

>>4576733
>>
Rolled 6, 3, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>4576733
>>
I'll be back with an update in 9-10 hours. Sorry for the slow speed of updates, but I have a lot on my plate this weekend.
>>
Rolled 6, 6, 2 = 14 (3d6)

>>4576733
>>
>>4576733
Perhaps it is time to use lucky?
>>
>>4576795
You can't get better than two sixes >>4576792
>>
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>Go to the abandoned mine in the hopes of stopping Ben Bones before he can leave

You decided you would go to the mine first. If there was any chance of stopping the old man, it was there. You didn’t want him to escape and come back with more brigands to continue the cycle of bloodshed. And if they were indeed working with Lord Bolton, then you didn’t want the man to tattle to the Lord about who exactly killed his son. If that happened, then not only you, but your family, perhaps even your entire village would be danger. Lords could go to any length to preserve their reputations, your father told you once.

So you force your exhausted body to trudge eastwards, towards the abandoned mine. You hope that the villagers have enough sense not to come looking for your group when you don’t return by nightfall. You had taken most of the men capable of fighting with you, and what was left was green boys and old men, even less armed than you. They would have no chance of fighting off wolves in the night. With a prayer above, you move along the trail, passing trees and the plains.

It takes you two hours to come to the fork in the trail where one path leads to the ravine, and the other is a winding way to the mine. You see fresh footprints moving towards the ravine. So the old man had gone down the wrong course. Good, that meant there was still a chance of you catching him in time. You increase your pace just a bit as the trail moves through dense thickets and stiff climbs along the hills. The bandages you wrapped around your slashed elbow have become completely soaked. You beseech the gods to give you enough strength to see this through. The gods of stream, forest of stone have been cruel to you today, but they also let you live, perhaps to finish this task.

When you arrive at the mine finally, the sun has gone down completely. The waxing moon above is obscured by clouds, leading to very little visibility. Thankfully, your eyes are unnaturally keen, more so than others. You have no difficulty seeing even in the dim light of the hidden moon. You ponder over that thought as you move closer to the palisade wall around the entrance to the mine. Your eyes, how did Ramsay have the same eyes as you?

Gods, you fervently hope that you did not become a kinslayer unknowingly today. You’d have to ask your father about this, without implying anything untoward. With a sudden realization, you remember that the man in the alehouse yesterday, Hother, had also stared long at your eyes. What did he say again? That you looked like someone he knew? Perhaps he was working with Ramsay as well. That would explain how he knew your name and your friends.
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>>4577689
You shove your thoughts aside as you approach the palisade, a fire burning in the middle of the ring of small huts and workshops outside the entrance. Torrhen was right, this was indeed their camp! You hear loud voices ahead, and instinctively duck lower to the ground and draw closer to the opening in the enclosure. You can hear a heated argument taking place, interrupted by a dog’s howl.

The Others take them, there were more hounds left?! Cursing your luck, you adjust your position until you can see them in the firelight. There are two men and the hound, behind the campfire, at the entrance to the mine. You recognize the old man immediately, though he looks exhausted and frazzled. The other man’s face is obscured by his hood, but his dark heavy cloak gives him away. It’s Hother! Speak of the Devil… The old man’s shouting interrupts your thoughts.

“I told you I got lost! I’m no woodsman, I relied on the girls to guide me through. And they killed all of them, the bastards.”

“And you just ran like a coward? Leaving Lord Ramsay alone?” The other man accuses.

“I didn’t leave him alone; Reek was still fighting. I’m no fighter either, Alyn, there was nothing I could do for Ramsay. When I saw three of them attacking him at once, I legged it. These weren’t no farmers; they were well armed and armoured. I still killed two with my bow, but I didn’t stand a chance up close.”

The hound starts howling again, this time in your direction, and the man crouches down to pet her. “Calm down Alison, we’re just leaving.”

“Lord Bolton is going to have our hide for this, Ben. He told us to watch over Lord Ramsay and see that he does not make too much trouble. And now we’ve gone and stirred a hornet’s nest. Killed half a dozen villagers and lost all of our men. Did you see him fall at least?”
Hother, or rather Alyn, asks. Deception seems to be par for the course for these men. And Gods, they were working for Lord Bolton indeed! The Wall was becoming more and more of a possibility in your mind by the moment, if you were even that fortunate to be offered the choice. But something roots you to the spot you’re kneeling at, desperate to hear every last bit of information they divulged.

“No, I told you, the last I saw was three of them attacking Ramsay.” Ben says. Then a sudden realization dawns upon him. “He.. He couldn’t have survived, could he? Two against three?” He asks in horror.

Alyn looks at him contemptuously. “You pray to the Gods that he didn’t, Ben. Because if he did, then he’ll find you and take your fingers one by one. Then he’ll flay you, and when you’re about to die, he’ll feed you to Alison.” He looks down at the hound with a smirk.
>>
>>4577690
The old man stumbles as if he’s struck by lightning, and stammers. “No, no. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Gods be damned, he would! Alyn, we have to see it for ourselves. If he’s alive I’ll tell him I went to you for help. Yes… yes. You and Alison, I came here to fetch you two to help him!” He cries in desperation.

“Do not think to involve me in your schemes, Ben. You could barely find your way here, and now we have even less light to find our way back. If the villagers did kill him as you say, who knows how many of them are still there, laying in wait for us? No, we’ll take this to Lord Roose and pray that he won’t flay us and mount our heads on the walls. I have already gathered all we need to carry. Just help me saddle up the horses and we’ll move.”

Somehow you had completely missed the horses housed in the small stable on the far side of the enclosure. If these men left mounted, you’d never be able to catch up to them. You had to make your move now.

>Stealth (Sneak) Test. Rolled 11 vs DC 12. Failed!

You take your position behind a pile of boxes near the entrance and ready your bow. Unfortunately, in doing do, you step over a broken plank on the ground, which breaks under your foot with a loud noise. The others immediately turn towards you, weapons unsheathed. The hound, Alison, is already bounding towards you, teeth bared. Fuck, not again.

Your hidden advantage is gone. The enemies stand at a distance of 40 yards from you. The dog will sprint for one round and charge in the 2nd round. Sour Alyn is clad in hard leathers and wielding a superior longsword. He and Ben Bones will sprint for 2 rounds and charge in the 3rd round. Due to ‘Shadowy’ lighting conditions, the others will take -1D on all tests. Due to your ‘Night Eyes’ benefit, you avoid this penalty.

What do you do?
>Stand and Fight
>Try to Run
>>
>>4577691
>>Try to Run
RIP us
>>
>>4577691
>Try to Run
Leg it.

Idk how fast it is gaining on us, but perhaps try to lure the dog away, create distance between it and the other pursuers. Have them get lost in the woods if we manage to slay the beast.
>>
>>4576801
I meant using lucky on the survival roll but I was late.
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>>4577691
>Try to run
If they follow us in the dark then there's a good chance they'll get spread and isolated. The hound's probably going to catch us but once it's dead we can double back and hunt the other two.
Every turn they spend sprinting after us means another turn they need to spend sprinting back to the camp before they can even begin saddling their horses and with our eyesight we should have a mobility advantage in the undergrowth.
>>
>>4577691
Changing my vote - can we loose a single arrow at the hound before we leg it?
>>
>>4577801
Yes, actually. You'll take your first round to shoot at the dog, and others will sprint for 1 round. They'll be one round of sprint + 1 round of charge away at the start of the second round. You'll need to get a 10 on a roll of 3d6-1 to kill the hound in a single shot. After that we'll resolve this as a chase (pg 210) where you'll need three points of advantage in conflict Athletics tests to escape.

Good write-in. Use 1st round to shoot at the hound?
>Yes
>No

I'll count your vote >>4577801 and wait for at least one more since we have three players atm.
>>
>>4577810
Yeah sure.
>>
Alright give me 3 rolls of 3d6+3, DC 9, 14 to kill in one shot. (4D -1D Wound -1 Injury +4 Great Hunter)
>>
Rolled 4, 2, 6 + 3 = 15 (3d6 + 3)

>>4577834
>>
Rolled 4, 2, 2 + 3 = 11 (3d6 + 3)

>>4577834
>>
Rolled 3, 6, 4 + 3 = 16 (3d6 + 3)

>>4577834
Let's go
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>>4577839
>>4577848
>>4577859
>16
Alright, you got her in one. Writing!
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>>4577861
Perfect. Now we just need to build our lead a little (and lure the bastards a little further from their camp) then we can turn around and starting shooting.
Ben can't take any wounds or injuries and Hother doesn't have a bow so I think it's fair to say they're fucked once that hounds out of the picture.

If they start to turn back we always shout out that we left Ramsey alive and tied up, their fear of him would almost guarantee they'd go back to check and that means we'd have another chance to ambush them if they flee. Hopefully we'll be able to finish it here.
>>
>>4577867
I'll incorporate some of this, but another ambush is unlikely. They'll be on the lookout, so it'll be a conflict test. They both have Awareness 4+1b, while you're rolling with only 2d6+1b-1 for Stealth. Even after -1D due to the darkness, the odds are stacked against you.
>>
>Write-in: Fire once at the hound then run

Rolled 16 vs CD 9, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage. 9 Health – 10 Damage = -1 Health
Alison Slain!

You assessed your options in the moment you had. Fighting all three of them was out of the question. Besides all of them being unhurt, and two of them being well-rested, your own arm was still wounded. Running away was the only path before you then. But you knew that the hound was far faster than you. It would catch up with you even before you ran ten yards. Your left leg throbbed in pain, as if to remind you where Helicent had clamped down on it yesterday. You did not have a fool’s chance of outrunning that bitch.

A thought strikes you then, if you killed her first, you would still have a chance of getting away from the men running behind her. Yes, you decide, that is your best chance, and nock an arrow. You do not have much time to properly line up your shot, but you aim as quickly as you can. You cry out in pain when you put pressure on your injured arm to pull the string taut. You loose with a heave.

Perhaps the Gods guided your hands, for even with such a hasty aim, the arrow flies straight into the bitch’s snarling mouth, and pierces through the back of her head. One moment she’s leaping at you with full speed, the next she’s crashing to the ground with a thud. You sigh in utmost relief, at least you won’t be hunted down in the forest by a trained hound.

The old man, Ben, curses at you, “Bastard! You’ve taken all my girls. The Others damn you, I’ll kill you myself!”

He runs at you with a speed defying his age. You act quickly and turn around, putting away your bow and heading straight towards the treeline to the north, back towards your village.

As you start to run away, you shout back at them, “I tied up your Lord Ramsay on the hill, to be eaten alive by the crows and vultures! Run after me or him, the choice is yours.”

You bluff, hoping at least one of them will be afraid enough to abandon your pursuit and go after Ramsay. Unfortunately, both of them do not so much as stop a moment to think, and continue advancing on you. They have decided to finish you first, then. Oh well, it was worth a try. You grind your teeth and run for your life.

----
We’ll resolve this as a chase (pg 210 in the rulebook in the OP). The first one to gain 3 points of advantage wins. Since Ben Bones has 2b in Run (i.e. Base movement 5 yards) you’ll be resolving conflict tests against him. For having 1 more movement than you, he gets +1D. We’ll take -1D on both sides for the treacherous terrain. Lastly, due to the darkness, he’ll take -1D. Since there is not much happening in between the ‘rounds’, I’ll take all 3 rolls at once, and apply modifiers afterwards. If they catch you, we resolve this as a fight.

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Athletics (3D -1D Wound -1D Terrain). I’ll take the best die from each roll.
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 6 = 11 (3d6)

>>4577874
>>
Rolled 1, 3, 5 = 9 (3d6)

>>4577874
Let's see how we can fuck this up
>>
Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)

>>4577874
>>
>>4577875 5
>>4577884 4
>>4577891 5
Failed in all 3 rounds unfortunately. You were rolling 1d6-1 against his 2d6. A fight it is then. Writing.
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>4577902
>>
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Chase:

Round 1: Rolled 5 vs 12, Ben Bones +1 Advantage
Round 2: Rolled 4 vs 11, Ben Bones +1 Advantage
Round 3: Rolled 5 vs 12, Ben Bones +1 Advantage

Ben Bones: +3 Advantage, Catches up to Hal

--- Ben Bones Free Attack ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 10, One Degree of Success
4 x 1 = 4 Damage -3 AR = 1 Damage.
Hal Damaged, 8/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries, 1/3 Wounds

You run recklessly, using every last ounce of strength you have, stepping over fallen logs and planks. Hother… Alyn, and the old man race after you, catching up slowly. Perhaps it is your exhaustion from the day, perhaps it is the wounds and scrapes you have accumulated, or the pain from your left leg, or perhaps it is the pure rage fueling Ben, but he’s gaining on you.

Thirty yards. The stitches in your leg are screaming from the sheer pressure you’re putting them under.

Twenty yards. You look back to see that Ben has exchanged his daggers for a longsword, which he’s waving wildly over his head. Your strength is flagging.

Ten yards.

You jump over a steep rock instead of taking the winding route to the trees. You misjudge your landing, and land on just your left leg. The stitches give way entirely and burst open, tearing yesterday’s wound fresh apart. You scream with agony and fall down, clutching your leg. A blade grazes your neck, alerting you to Ben’s presence. It seems he has caught up. Alyn is not far behind, looking ready to rush you if you provide an opening.

"It looks like you're the only one left, eh, Hal? This is what you get for not coming to Winterfell with me." He goads you, then adds with a lecherous grin, "Then we can have the run of the girls in your village. Without any interruptions."

You grind your teeth in anger and frustration, and ready yourself for what might be the last fight of your life.

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Fighting.
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 3 = 10 (3d6)

>>4577910
>>
>>4577910
dice+3d6
>>
>>4577920
In the options field, newfren.
>>
Rolled 3, 3, 3 = 9 (3d6)

>>4577910
>>
>>4577923
>>4577917
I'm thinking this may be a turn to use our lucky reroll or some glory.
>>
>>4577909
>>4577917
>>4577923
That only gives you one degree. Use Lucky or a Glory point for this? >>4577909
You need 14 and above for two degrees. For both opponents.
>>
>>4577928
Use both.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>4577928 Alright, rolling for this.
>>4577909
You need 5 or 6 on this roll.
>>
>>4577931
It worked! That gives you 14. Two degrees of success. Writing. If the fight drags too long, I'll start asking for 6d6 to resolve multiple rounds at once.
>>
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Round 1:
Order of Initiative: Sour Alyn ->Hal ->Ben Bones

--- Sour Alyn Charge (Hal) ---
Rolled 11 vs CD 10, One Degree of Success
7 x 1 = 7 Damage – 3 AR = 4 Damage.
Hal Damaged, 4/9 Health

--- Hal Attack 1 (Ben Bones) ---
Rolled 14 vs CD 8, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 2 AR = 6 Damage.
Piercing 2 Activated, 2 Damage.
Ben Bones Damaged, 1/9 Health

--- Ben Bones Attack 1 (Hal) ---
Rolled 10 vs CD 10, One Degree of Success
4 x 1 = 4 Damage – 3 AR = 1 Damage.
Hal Damaged, 3/9 Health, 1/3 Injuries, 1/3 Wounds

Alyn charges you just as you’re getting up, slamming into you with all his weight. Although he does not use his blade, the force of his blow is enough to send you tumbling down the hill, down towards the treeline. You get a few scrapes and scratches from sharp stones strewn about. Ben runs after you once again, eager to get another hit in, but you were correct in your initial assessment that this man was not made for war.

He attacks with the longsword like a green boy holding a wooden sword. Even though his blade hits your stomach, it does not penetrate. Neither does the man follow up with a second strike to seize the opportunity. His loss then, you think, as you use your dagger to trap his sword in its place, and lunge with your stiletto towards his chest. The thin blade goes through his leather armour like a hot knife through butter, and cracks a rib or two before going in deeper.

You withdraw it quickly, leaving Ben bleeding from his lower chest. The man wheezes violently, but continues on, ready for more.

----

Give me 3 rolls of 3d6 for Fighting. Also, who do you attack?
>Ben Bones
>Sour Alyn

BTW, Ben's CD was 8, actually. Sour Alyn's is 9.
>>
Rolled 6, 3, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>4577949
>Ben Bones
Everyone's an irredeemable cunt, no point in communicating with them even.

Btw, did you skip rolling bluff because it was pointless with 2 dice?
>>
Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)

>>4577949
>Benny Boy
Man needs to die.
>>
Rolled 2, 4, 3 = 9 (3d6)

>>4577949
>>Sour Alyn
>>
>>4577955
>>4577958
>>4577962
Two degrees again. Writing.

>>4577955
Yeah it was literally impossible with that -1D and -1 due to the injury. Same reason why you can't make a hidden attack anymore.
>>
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Round 2
Order of Initiative: Hal ->Sour Alyn ->Ben Bones

--- Hal Attack 2 ---
Rolled 15 vs CD 8, Two Degrees of Success
4 x 2 = 8 Damage – 2 AR = 6 Damage.
1 Health – 6 = -5 Health. Ben Bones Slain!

--- Sour Alyn Attack 1 ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 10, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage – 3 AR = 7 Damage.
Two Injuries Taken. 3 Health – 1 Damage = 2 Health
Hal Damaged. 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 1/3 Wounds

Unlike Ben, you do not hesitate in pressing your advantage. Not when your life is on the line. You step in close to him and feign an attack on his lower body, and he falls perfectly for your trap. It is as easy as taking a sweetroll from a child, you think harshly. This is one of the simplest feints taught by any instructor worth his salt. You remember Torrhen teaching you and Owen how to guard against it when you were children… You would pity the old man if he had not bragged about killing two of your friends earlier. He may be more interested in the hounds than tormenting humans, but he was no less a monster than the others. You hope he meets his ‘girls’ in whatever afterlife awaits him, and plunge the dagger into his neck, slashing his wind pipe. He falls to the ground with watery gurgles, grabbing at his throat, as if to prevent the blood and air from leaking out.

As you stand over his trembling body, Alyn attacks you from behind, cutting through your armour deeply. You cry out and arch backwards, more pain lancing through you. You bring your weapons upwards to defend against another attack, and inspect your injuries. Your spine is intact, but there is a flesh wound on your back now seeping blood.

“You killed all my friends, Hal. And now it seems we’ve killed all of yours. How about we call a draw and go back to our homes?” He asks with a smirk, showing off his rotten teeth.

“Not a chance!” You growl, “I know you came to spy on us yesterday. That’s how Ramsay knew everything about me, isn’t it?”

“Yes” he replies simply, “and not just yesterday, today too. One look at you, and I just couldn’t look away. I had to come back for more. You’ll make a fine gift for Lord Bolton, enough for him to let me go alive, at any rate. And if Lord Ramsay is still alive, perhaps even a reward” He laughs.

Before you can ponder on what he meant by that, he attacks once again.

---
Give me 3 rolls of 3d6-2 for Fighting.
>>
Rolled 5, 5, 5 - 2 = 13 (3d6 - 2)

>>4577980
Gasp, we're one of the bolton bastards!
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 3 = 8 (3d6)

>>4577980

>>4577994
I'm not sure it's that simple,
>Only your father had eyes similar to yours, and you were sure he was not the type to father bastards on mistresses
>>
Rolled 2, 1, 1 - 2 = 2 (3d6 - 2)

>>4577980
>>
>>4577994
>>4577996
>>4578016
Using all 3 rolls. There will be no need for using lucky or glory points, unfortunately. Stay tuned, the update is almost finished.
>>
Round 3
Order of Initiative: Sour Alyn -> Hal

--- Sour Alyn Attack 2 ---
Rolled 19 vs CD 10, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage – 3 AR = 7 Damage, 1 Wound Taken.
Hal Wounded. 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 2/3 Wounds.

--- Hal Attack 3 ---
Rolled 8 vs CD 9, Attack Failed!

Round 4
Order of Initiatives: Sour Alyn -> Hal

--- Sour Alyn Attack 3 ---
Rolled 16 vs CD 10, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage – 3 AR = 7 Damage. 1 Wound Taken
Hal Wounded, 2/9 Health, 3/3 Injuries, 3/3 Wounds.

--- Hal Attack 4 ---
Rolled 2 vs CD 9. Attack Failed!

Round 5
Order of Initiative: Sour Alyn -> Hal

--- Sour Alyn Attack 4 ---
Rolled 18 vs CD 10, Two Degrees of Success
5 x 2 = 10 Damage – 3 AR = 7 Damage.
2 Health – 7 Damage = -5 Health. Hal defeated!
>>
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>>4578033
Alyn’s attacks are fast and unrelenting, pushing you on your backfoot. You try to parry with your dagger and stiletto, but he uses the superior reach of his longsword to swipe at your legs, which your weapons are not long enough to guard. The first time he does it, you jump back, but you accidentally put even more pressure on your wounded leg. A spasm of pain jolts through your body, which Alyn immediately notices. From then he attacks your legs with increasing frequency, never letting up.

You try to close the gap and gut him like you did to Ben, but Alyn has clearly been trained in the art of the sword, perhaps even better than you. He stays out of your reach and deflects your stabs, or simply steps aside. You realize he’s toying with you now, and for the first time in your life regret not using a sword instead. If only you had a longer weapon… You maneuver closer to Ben’s fallen sword, but Alyn sees it coming.

He swings at your legs once more, but this time your legs freeze up, and refuse to jump back. The blade cuts through your right leg, which had been bearing most of your weight by now. You collapse to the ground with a shout, but turn around quickly on your back to face your opponent. Your stiletto lays at your feet, having slipped your grasp in your fall.

Alyn kneels over you, sword by his side, and taunts you “I went to your house today, after you left.” He starts, and even that is enough to set you struggling to kill him. You jab your dagger towards his right eye, but he turns at the last moment, and it only grazes his forehead. Alyn seems unfazed, and simply twists your arm until your yelp and drop the dagger in pain, which he throws away.

“Don’t you worry, I didn’t do anything. Yet. Just some information gathering. Also stopped by the butcher’s shop. Beth’s a comely girl, Hal. I wonder why you haven’t married her yet. Well, your loss, my gain. I’m sure she’ll need some comforting when she finds out her father is dead. And I’ll be there for her.”

He grins as he brings his face close to you, washing you in his sour breath. You wrinkle your nose in disgust and try to punch him, but he easily blocks your strike. You have lost too much blood today, and there is no energy left in you. You slump back down, and Alyn gives you a triumphant smile.

“That’s the spirit! Now tell me the truth about Lord Ramsay, or I start plucking out your eyes.”

You do not even have the stamina left in you to be shocked, and tell him the truth before he carries out his threat. “Ramsay is dead, you bastard. I killed him myself. He’ll be picked clean by the carrion birds by the time you reach him.”
>>
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>>4578034
That makes him frown. “I knew you were bluffing before. You’re not one for deceit, Hal. Still, that complicates my plans. I’ll just have to present a different story to Lord Bolton. And I have some information he’ll appreciate greatly. Perhaps I’ll join the King’s party in Winterfell after all. What do you say, Hal?” He asks you, smiling horribly once again. Gods, if he could just stop.

“Why haven’t you killed me already?” You ask in a monotone voice devoid of all emotion. Your mind was strangely at ease, as if it had already accepted your incoming demise. Kyra, your parents, Beth. You know you should worry about them, in the back of your mind, but all it wants right now is to end the pain.

“Kill you? No, you’re worth far more to me alive, Hal. I’m not here to end your suffering, friend. Your misery has just begun.” He gives you a look promising great evil and cruelty, then socks you in the head with the pommel of his sword. Again, and again, and again, until all you can see is darkness.

-----------

So, that happened. The quest has not ended yet, there is one more secret yet to be revealed, and some more suffering in the store for Hal. And some more decisions yet to make, for you players. I have some things to figure out how to set up properly, so I’ll take some time to prepare. I’ll be back either tomorrow or Tuesday. In the meantime, I’m here to answer any spoiler questions you want to ask, what different choices could have led to, what if you had rolled better, etc. Other than the most obvious one about your heritage, of course. That’ll be revealed in time.

It’s also time for some feedback, since we’re at a pivotal point. What have you liked so far? What have you disliked? Is there anything I could have done differently that would have increased your enjoyment? My aim for this one-shot was not only to tell this story, but also to improve my craft in preparation for a longer quest, so any help is appreciated.
>>
>>4578036
I enjoyed the style of writing itself but never feeling like we and Hal had a chance of succeeding detracted from overall experience. Obviously some of the more poorly thought through decisions are to blame there and they can be attributed to the fleetness of the quest (which in my opinion only makes players vote with less regard for consequences).
The use of mechanics was fair and in no way overbearing, however the odds were always stacked against us and I'm unsure whether anything could've gone differently after any of the fights have begun. It seemed that rolls didn't matter at all during battles.
>>
Alright, so what the fuck is up with our eyes? Are we descendant of one of Viserys's bastards or something? Do Targ genes show up more prominently if they skip a generation?
>>
>>4578036
I enjoyed the quest. You've got a good writing style with vivid descriptions and clear characterization.

I would've preferred faster posts but the audience was slow to post as well so I guess there's not much you can do about that.
The last fight seemed a bit rail road-y what with us not getting a chance to use lucky or glory to beat Alyn.

Personally I liked the level of challenge. Despite what anon said about the odds always stacked against us we managed to triumph up until the end. A lot of the quests tend to be too easy for my taste, here I felt like our life really was on the line.

I'm hoping the question about the eyes is still to be revealed. If we got our eyes from our dad does that mean he's a Bolton bastard or is there something else I'm missing?
>>4578251
I'd have expected purple if we were of Targ blood
>>
>>4578919
Thanks, I'm glad people enjoyed my writing style, because personally I wasn't too happy about it when I was writing. I would have preferred faster posts too, but I was waiting on rolls a lot of the time, and my schedule became too busy unexpectedly. I was supposed to have this month free, but things didn't work out that way. Also my sleep cycle is fucked up, so there were some days when the votes were in but I couldn't stay awake for another update.

>The last fight seemed a bit rail road-y what with us not getting a chance to use lucky or glory to beat Alyn.
Damn, I really didn't want to give that impression. I should have clarified it in the post itself. I ran the numbers in the background, and even if you got the highest roll possible in each roll, you wouldn't be able to beat him. So I compressed the play-by-play fight to a single block.

I wanted to give a real challenge, because you were a bunch of villagers up against trained men-at-arms of House Bolton. You were still able to beat two of the three fights, and even in the last one if you had stayed put instead of running, you could have won with high rolls.

As for the other thing, you're very close. It will be revealed soon. I'll remind you this is not exactly canon, so I'm taking a few liberties.

>>4578054
The odds were indeed stacked against you, as I said above. But you still beat 14 out of the 15 enemies you faced. You almost succeeded! If you had taken one less injury or wound, you might have won here too. Player choice definitely played a large part, anons were too eager to walk into a known trap, then the rolls to discover it were not high enough. In hindsight, I should have prompted for using Lucky or your glory points for that stealth roll to get more degrees of success. If you had chosen to go back to the village, there would have been more fighters available. If you went to the mine first, you could have laid a trap for the Bastard's Boys when they got back tired in the evening. If you had gone to Roose Bolton, well.. you're going to him now.

I'm working on the update, reading Roose's appearances in the books, doing some wiki diving, so this might take until tomorrow (Tuesday).
>>
>>4578941
>Damn, I really didn't want to give that impression. I should have clarified it in the post itself. I ran the numbers in the background, and even if you got the highest roll possible in each roll, you wouldn't be able to beat him. So I compressed the play-by-play fight to a single block.
Ahh, fair enough then.

>anons were too eager to walk into a known trap
Yeah, I wish we'd headed to the mine first.
At least we murdered Ramsay and Reek. Roose could hang us the moment he claps eyes on us and I'll still be pleased with the outcome of that fight.

Looking forward to the big reveal.
>>
>>4578036
The moment Ramsay showed up I never thought that we would made it out alive. So killing him and making it this far is a pleasant surprise.
>>
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“Quietly, Hal. Approach as close as you can to get to get a clear shot, and no further. They have better hearing than you.” Torrhen whispers. He looks younger than you remember, but you don’t dwell on it.

You crouch low and move towards the stag with your bow in hand, as silently as possible. You’re wearing a mud brown cloak with leaves and branches sewed all over, to blend in with the forest. Torrhen wants you to do this all on your own, so he stays back and watches your progress.

The stag is a magnificent creature of its kind, with antlers longer than your leg. This type of catch does not come easily, but Torrhen has tracked the beast for weeks, and now wants you to take the prize. You know why he does this for you, he sees you as a younger brother, and his apprentice. He was an only child, his mother having died in childbirth.

You take careful steps forward, watching the stag’s head intently. He’s drinking from the stream, and so far hasn’t turned your way once. A few more steps, and you have a straight shot. You nock an arrow and aim at the point where its shoulder meets its midsection, just as Torrhen taught you. You take a deep breath to steady your hands, but something’s in the air which tickles your nose badly. Despite all your attempts, you can’t stop the sneeze from escaping you. You accidentally release the arrow and fall down to the ground. Damn it, without a doubt you must have spooked the stag.

Torrhen approaches you quickly, without any regard for the noise he’s making, so you ready yourself for him tanning your hide. But when he offers you a hand up, a beaming smile adorns his face. Seeing your confusion, he turns you around to face the clearing. You can only gawk with your jaw hanging open, seeing the arrow which had gone straight through the stag’s eye, felling him in one shot. You whoop at your dumb luck and jump with joy, celebrating your greatest prize yet. Your energy is so infectious, even Torrhen joins in, bouncing with you towards the stream.

The scene dissolves suddenly, and you find yourself looking up at the ground. At your feet is the morning sky. The hour of ghosts, if you reckon. That can’t be right, you think, and try to get your bearings. Your back is bent at an awkward angle, and you’re moving slowly along a trail. When you try to move your arms, you find that they are bound tightly. A few experimental kicks make you realize that your arms and legs are bound together, around the horse to which you are tied. You turn your head to the side to see where you’re going, and what you see frightens you to the bone.

You see a strong fortress on a hill. easily the largest structure you’ve ever seen in your life. It has high walls jutting out of the cliffs, topped with triangular merlons so sharp they look like teeth to you. The towers rising behind the walls are massive, to you they appear as if they’re kissing the sky itself.
>>
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>>4580266
But what scares you are the banners, flying tall and proud from the towers and the walls, a pale pink serving as background to a flayed man in red. Bolton banners. You’re at the Dreadfort. Gods! You panic and struggle in an attempt to get free, and that’s when the pain returns. Your back, your arm, even your head, all the pain comes rushing back at once, and you find yourself drifting into darkness once again.

--

You see the stranger at the alehouse, talking in hushed tones with a visibly nervous Quentyn. As you approach them, the stranger turns, shifting his hood back. It is Hother.., no, Alyn. His eyes scan your face, then widen in surprise, fixated at your own eyes.

“You.. you..” he stammers out, then the scene dissolves.

--

You feel yourself lying on a comfortable bed, and your armour and clothes being removed. There are three men surrounding you, one in dark robes, and two in armour. Before you can get a look at their faces, your vision swims again, and you welcome the sleep with open arms, eager to get rid of the pain.

--

You’re back at the alehouse, and this time you’re speaking... something. It hurts your head to focus on the words, but eventually you hear them clearly. “Say, Hother, have we met before? You looked startled when you saw me, as if you recognized me. I’m sorry if we’ve met and I don’t recall you.”

He turns back to you, his gaze drawn to your eyes again. “It’s nothing to worry about, Hallis. You look a lot like someone I know, a… friend.” He nods his head again, “Someone I was not expecting to see here. That’s all.” And the scene dissolves again. You scream in frustration, what is happening to you?

--

Then you scream once again, this time in pain. You’re back on the bed, and your wounds are burning up, as if they have been set on fire. You look down to see the man in robes pouring boiling wine over your wounds. He does it again to the slash on your elbow, and you howl in agony, tears flowing freely.

“Hold him down, damn it! I can’t work with him flapping about.” Your tormentor orders the other two. He sounds like an old man. Your body gives up in surrender before he puts you through hell a third time. The darkness seems more welcoming each time.

--

This time you know it is a dream, but that doesn’t wake you or stop it from playing out. You’re back at your house, playing with Kyra again, but she looks like she’s two and ten. Your body moves on its own. You’re a silent spectator, watching it happen like it’s happening to someone else. You pull a coin out from behind Kyra’s ear, and her face lights up with wonder and astonishment, looking at you in awe, as if you’re one of the Heroes of long past. Despite yourself, you laugh. A simpler, happier time, you think wistfully.
>>
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>>4580268
But then you’re wrenched from the memory again, grinding your teeth in helplessness. You’re on your stomach this time, and powerful hands are holding down your arms and legs. A pain lances through your back, and you feel a needle piercing your flesh. The wound in your back, you realize.

“Hold on lad, this is the last one. Then you can have the milk of the poppy.” The man in the robes says. You tilt your head around to see that he has chain around his neck, made of many links of different metals. A maester, you realize. They want you alive, at least. You wonder if it would be better if you died, you’ve heard the rumours about House Bolton and what they do to their enemies. It is the fear, more than the pain, which makes you pass out this time.

--

You’re asking your father something this time, “Pa, you ever know a man named Hother? Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and mouth full of rotten teeth?”

This is from yesterday, you realize. Your mind is playing tricks on you, playing out memories from years ago and then from previous day.

“No, I can’t say I’ve ever met such a man. Why?”

“When he saw me, he became startled, and kept looking at my eyes. Told me I reminded him of a friend.”

Your father looks at you sharply, and bites out “Over the years some guards on patrol have looked at me funny when they noticed my eyes. I don’t know why, but I’ve learned to keep up my hood and lower my head whenever I see a man in armour, you’d do well to do the same.”

Wait, you’re sure the conversation was longer than this. A few meaningless sentences, perhaps, but there was more. Why were you only dreaming some parts and forgetting others? Before you can think on it, you’re pulled into consciousness once more.

--

You’re in a different room, with a small and comfortable bed. The window is barred from the outside, and the door is reinforced with metal. It is open now, though, and you can hear voices from just outside.

“Will he live?” A small and soft voice asks. You have to strain your ears to even hear it.

“For now, my lord.” Another voice replies, the maester, you think. “I’ve patched up his injuries and gave him milk of the poppy to speed his recovery. He’ll be in and out of consciousness for a while.”

You should be shivering with trepidation that Lord Bolton is outside your room, but somehow you can’t focus on it. It’s like your mind is wrapped in a thick blanket, preventing you from thinking too hard.

“How long?” He asks, and there is a slight pause. The maester eventually breaks the silence. “Weeks, my lord, at the very least. Might take months.”

“We don’t have months for this, Uthor. I must leave for Winterfell soon to greet the King. Treat the young man, in my absence. I’ve had my spies report from the south. If we want to move forward with our plan now, he may be our only option left. Otherwise we wait for two more decades.”
>>
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>>4580272
There is a lull in the conversation, then finally he calls out, “Walton.”

“My lord.” A gruff, blunt voice replies, coming closer to the door. You hear armour clinking.

“Take some men and see to this village. You know what to do. Stay here and take your time, you won’t be needed in Winterfell.” Lord Bolton says.

“I will see it done my lord.” There is a silence and then shuffling of feet. Everyone has been dismissed, it seems. The village. There is something important there, which should make you worry. But for the life of you, you cannot focus on it enough without hurting your head.

The maester moves inside the room, and you can look at him clearly now, in the daylight streaming in from the window. His head is almost completely bald, but he has a great white beard reaching down to his chest. He does not react when he sees you awake, as if he was expecting this. He brings a goblet full of thick, white liquid to your mouth, and simply forces it in. You startle at the sudden action and try to resist, but your body refuses to comply, laying still. You can only watch helplessly as you’re forced to swallow the tasteless liquid. Your mind suddenly feels heavy once more, and you drift off to sleep.

-----

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 (3D + 1B) for the maester’s treatment. DC 12 for 1 wound, 17 for two wounds. If you recover faster, you’ll be able to move around earlier, possibly before Roose returns. Since this is technically the maester’s roll, you can’t use Lucky or Glory Points.
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 5, 6 = 16 (4d6)

>>4580274
I really like how you tie in the character's benefits with the story. Even my earlier complaint about votes can be attributed to the character's drawback. Shame our friends had listened to us.
And again, the writing is very enjoyable.
>>
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Rolled 4, 4, 5, 2 = 15 (4d6)

>>4580274
Good stuff QM, I like how you made our dumb decisions bite us in the ass hard without making it too unbalanced.
At the very least Roose isn't out to kill us as of right now for whatever reason . Maybe our father was his bastard brother or something similar. Either way the fact he had his own personal Maester treat us and the fact we aren't getting horrifically tortured Griffith-style is a good sign.
>>
Rolled 5, 1, 2, 6 = 14 (4d6)

>>4580274
>>
>>4580283
>>4580329
>>4580331
I'll use all three rolls. You get all three wounds and injuries healed by the third week, giving you one week before Roose comes back. Thanks for the feedback, and I'm glad you're enjoying! And don't get too excited just yet.

Next update might be in a few hours, might take longer. I don't know yet, I have 20 tabs of the wiki open, and the number is only increasing.
>>
>>4580329
>At the very least Roose isn't out to kill us as of right now for whatever reason
Yeah, but I'm pretty sure our village and entire family just got wiped out.
>>
>>4580427
Probably yeah, though there's a slight chance he spared our family so he could use them against us as hostages so we'll do what he wants.
Also
>If we want to move forward with our plan now, he may be our only option left. Otherwise we wait for two more decades.”
Seems to be directly referring to the time it takes to birth, raise and groom a heir.Maybe he'll have us LARP as Ramsey and shrug off any suspicions or witnesses that could testify the fact we aren't via a good old beheading.
>>
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You stare in fascination at your left foot being cut open. After coming under so much strain in the fighting, the stitches had come bursting apart, mangling your flesh. The maester works with a careful precision, repairing the damage as best as he can, humming now and then. Either he has not noticed that you’re awake or he does not care, likely the latter. You should feel the sting of the needle going through your skin, you know, and the burn of the boiled wine being poured within, but you don’t. Somehow that doesn’t bother you, even though it should. These days your mind is in a daze, and you look and hear and feel, but do not perceive. Sighing, you close your eyes and settle back down.

Some time later, the maester starts putting away his tools one by one. It looks like he’s done for now. A loud clinking noise alerts you to the presence of an armoured man entering the room.

“Walton”, the maester acknowledges the newcomer, “I take it the task is done?”

You crack open your eyes to get a better look at the man. He’s a tall and dour soldier wearing a suit of mail armour, and carries a spear and a longsword. His hair is long and dark, flowing over his shoulders.

“Yes, I brought Ramsay’s body back. What was left of it, anyway, the crows didn’t leave much.” he replies and lowers his gaze to you, so you quickly shut your eyes. “I put the family in the dungeon, but they’re not in good shape. You might want to look them over.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Walton. That is a privilege only Lord Bolton enjoys.” The maester answers curtly. “I’ll send a report to him along with a raven. You did not face any trouble with the others?”

“None worth mentioning to my lord about. It looks like our hunter here took most of the fighting men with him, and got them all killed.” Even with your eyes closed, you can feel both men’s judging eyes on you.

“All that were left were old men and green boys, we took care of them easily. Burned the rest after we’d had our fun with them. The miller’s daughters were feisty, I tell you.” He says amusedly.

The maester grunts in distaste. “You have a wife here in the castle, man! Have you no shame?”

You dare to open your eyes once more, to see Walton shrug. “My lord instructed me to make it look like bandits were responsible, so we did as bandits do. Killed the men, fucked the women, then left them all in ashes. And the best part is, we’ll be celebrated for getting rid of the bandits! By the way, a few of my men were injured, so I’ll need you to treat them too.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll do that. The man who brought in Hal, Alyn. You did as Lord Bolton asked?” The maester asks in a clipped tone.

“Yes, I let him have the butcher’s daughter, Beth, or some such, to distract him. In the middle of his rutting, I drove my spear through both of them. He had it coming, running his rotten mouth like that."
>>
>>4580973
"Imagine making demands of Lord Bolton in his own castle. What did he think, asking for a fief and a knighthood, that it would go over well?” Walton snorts, and even the maester chuckles, despite himself.

But your mind is elsewhere, focused on a word. Beth. Beth, you know that name. You care about that name, and the village. But why? You wrack your brain, trying to focus on your memories, but it is like punching wool, and you only sink deeper and deeper, until you know no more.

--

Kneeling over Ramsay, you bring the point of your stiletto to his chest and start pushing it in towards his heart. His fleshy torso offers little resistance as you slowly penetrate it further, blood starting to leak from the fresh wound. In his last moments, Ramsay wakes up with a piercing shriek, and his hands come up to push away yours.

Just as you’re about to pierce his heart, he whispers two words, “Your eyes”, he murmurs. You lock your eyes with his, which you hadn’t really noticed before. He has small, close-set eyes, but what’s most distinctive about them is their colour. They are pale, almost white with small specks of blue, like two chips of dirty ice. Just like yours. You blink in confusion and stare at them, but somehow your arms have lost all force behind them.

Ramsay pushes your blade away from his throat with contemptuous ease, and unimaginably, sits up straight, his throat still bleeding freely. When he speaks, his voice is clear, and his eyes sharply trained on you. “Why did you kill me, brother?” He asks, and this time, your vision does not grow dark, but brightens.

--

More and more light streams into your pupils until you’re blinded completely, seeing naught but white. After an agonizingly long time, the light recedes, and your sight starts coming back, in bits and pieces. You find yourself peering at the maester, who has a bright lamp in his hands. He turns to the side and sets his lamp on a table you hadn’t noticed before. By the lamp’s light he starts writing in a journal, the scratches of his quill breaking the silence.

“I..” you begin, intending to ask him something. But when you try to speak no words come to your tongue. What did you want to ask him about? Something in the village, you were sure there was something important there, but your mind is so foggy that you can’t remember what. You cry out in frustration as you try to go through your memories.

The maester puts down his quill, and gives you a pitying look. “Calm down, lad. It’s just the milk of the poppy at work. It allowed you to escape the pain when I was stitching up your wounds, but it fills your head with clouds, even when you’re awake. You may also get strange dreams, you would do well to ignore them.” He says in a grandfatherly way.

You ask the only question that comes to your mind. “How long?” You do not elaborate further, but the maester realizes what you’re asking about.
>>
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>>4580977
“About a week and a half since you were brought here. Your injuries are healing up quickly, but your head has undergone a concussion, that will take longer to go away. I will confine you to the bed for another week at least.” He says, and brings a goblet full of that mind-dulling substance to your mouth.

You protest weakly, angling your mouth away from the goblet. The maester tuts disapprovingly, and tries to sooth you.

“Just one more time, I promise. I’ve been weaning you off of the poppy. Now that the worst of the pain has passed, we can switch to dreamwine. It will still dull the pain, but it won’t affect your mind as much.” He says placatingly, and brings the goblet to your mouth once more.

You can’t tell if he’s telling the truth or only saying this so you’ll drink without struggling. You could simply drink this now to make him think that you’re compliant, lulling him into a false sense of security which you could exploit. But it would also mean a few more days of your mind being mush most of the time. There were important things you needed to do, to know about, which you could not do with the poppy affecting you. Perhaps you could ask about starting the dreamwine today, but it would be a difficult ask, especially in your state. If you failed you could draw the maester's ire.

--

What do you do?
>Drink the milk of the poppy, to appear compliant
>Ask for dreamwine instead, it will be difficult, but you needed your mind to be clear

The second option will be a persuasion check with a hard DC, but no penalties from wounds or injuries.
>>
>>4580981
We don't know our vices or virtues yet, right?

>Ask for dreamwine instead, it will be difficult, but you needed your mind to be clear
Its time we started deciding for ourselves.
>>
>>4580981
>>Ask for dreamwine instead, it will be difficult, but you needed your mind to be clear
>>
>>4580981
>Ask for dreamwine instead, it will be difficult, but you needed your mind to be clear
>>
Alright, give me 3 rolls of 4d6 for Persuasion (Convince). (3D+1B) DC: 17.
>>
>>4581277
Forgot to use the name. And my ID appears to have changed again.
>>
Rolled 1, 5, 1, 6 = 13 (4d6)

>>4581277
Shit, I assumed it'd be 15.
6% chance?..
>>
Rolled 5, 3, 1, 2 = 11 (4d6)

>>4581277
>>
>>4581280
Base 12 + 5 (one full degree) because you have to focus really hard to even formulate coherent thoughts

You have 3 Glory Points left. You could re-roll a one in your roll with a 16% chance of getting the necessary 6. Want to do it?
>>
>>4581288
>Want to do it?
Lets do it.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>4581290
Alright. You need a 6 on this roll.
>>
>>4581296
Not your lucky day, unfortunately. I'll wait for one more roll.
>>
Rolled 2, 1, 1, 2 = 6 (4d6)

>>4581277
>>
No dice. But for that 14 you avoid the maester extending your dose of poppy for another week.

This final arc is giving me much trouble writing, ironically, even though it's all coming together now. Unlike GRRM, I can't go back and rewrite to change or add a little detail, so it's taking more time. Thank you for the patience for the considerable delay between updates. I'll sit down for a few hours, then try again in 12-13 hours.
>>
This has been bugging me for a while, and I may misunderstand the timeframe but since it is the time when Robert visits Winterfall, shouldn't Ramsay and Theon have been unacquainted yet?
>>
>>4581355
Good question. I don't know how familiar you are with the books, but Theon is not the first Reek. In fact, he's not even the second. The original Reek (who's real name may have been Heke) was a man-at-arms at the Dreadfort, sent by Roose to live with Ramsay. He taught Ramsay how to fight. This is the man you guys killed. In canon, he and Ramsay are caught by Rodrik Cassel's men while out on a 'hunt'. Ramsay exchanges his clothes with Reek, so when they're caught and Reek is killed, he's assumed to be Ramsay, and Ramsay is brought to Winterfell's dungeons as Reek.

He pretends to be Reek when Theon captures Winterfell, then convinces Theon to free him. The rest of the story you know.
>>
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>Ask for dreamwine instead, it will be difficult, but you needed your mind to be clear
>Rolled 14 vs DC 12, 17

“No”, you rasp, your voice hoarse from disuse. The maester looks at you expectantly. Slowly you force yourself to form words.

“I cannot think under this daze you put me in. I need to know what’s going on. Why am I here? What’s going to happen to me? Please, you cannot smother me again. Give me the dreamwine, but no more of this.” You break into a fit of coughs as you finish speaking.

“My orders are to help you heal boy, not to help you think.” The maester says in an irritated voice. “You shall have all your answers and more, when Lord Bolton decides, and not a moment sooner. I have determined you need one more dose of the poppy, so you shall receive one, unless you profess to be more learned in the healing arts than me?” The maester asks you condescendingly.

You try to think of a reason for your request that he’ll consider, but nothing comes to your mind. There is something, just on the tip of your tongue, but your mind is too disoriented to remember what it is. Trying harder only worsens your headache, so you slump back to the bed in resignation, and allow the maester to put you to sleep.

--

You are in a large cavern, surrounded by darkness. There is no source of light, but your eyes are not hindered by that obstacle. The silence is overwhelming, and there is strange pressure on your ears. You look around to get your bearings, but see nothing. No, wait! There is a faint light in the distance, deeper into the cavern. As you start walking towards the light, your feet make splashes, making you realize that you’re standing in shallow water, dark and murky.

When you approach closer to the dim glow, you see tall shadows surrounding it, almost in a circle. Closer inspection reveals them to be trees, old oaks and tall pines. In the middle of the circle is another tree, older than all others. It has a wide trunk, thick and sturdy, but its bark is a smooth white, like bone. You don’t even need to see the blood-red five-pointed leaves to know that it is a weirwood, sacred to those that hold to the Old Gods.

You approach the other side of the tree, from where the light is coming. It is a face, carved into the trunk of the tree, that gleams so brightly. A heart tree, you realize! These were only found in the Godswood of major houses, or beyond the Wall. You drop to your knees in front of the face, praying to the gods of river, stream and stone. You had sent many prayers to the Gods these past few days, prayers to keep you alive, prayers to keep your family safe, to let the souls of your fallen friends rest peacefully. You do not know how many of them were heard or answered, but such is the will of the Gods.
>>
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>>4582059
You look up to see the carved face closely, but it is less of a face and more of a haunting skull. The bones are protruding prominently, there is no hair, and the nose is missing. But the most captivating part of the carving is the eyes. Glowing bright orange, they give off an eerie glow. You had not seen any heart trees before, but from what you had heard, the carved faces were not supposed to look like this.

As if sensing your thoughts, the face suddenly moves, terrifying you so greatly that your body stops moving, frozen in its place. The skull moves from side to side, then forwards, as if flexing its bones. Slowly it detaches from the heart tree with a creaking noise, stepping towards you. That’s when you notice that it is not just a face, but an entire body, grey and skinless, its core glowing that same shade of orange. You’re about to pass out in horror when it looks you in the eye and speaks to you, in a thousand spectral voices at once.

“He’s coming for you Hal, and he won’t stop. Not until he has devoured you whole, mind, body and soul. But you must resist.” It warns, but you just blink in confusion. Was this an avatar of the Gods? Or your mind playing tricks on you again? The maester told you to ignore the dreams, but something about the otherworldliness of this one draws you in.

“Who’s he? Who’s coming for me?” You stammer out. Your mind is too frightened to think twice about taking advice from a creature out of your mother’s tales.

“He has a thousand names, and none. But you shall know when the time comes. What is important is that you turn the trap back on him, or else he’ll annihilate your soul.” The body groans. You cannot make head or tale of the cryptic words, but you try anyway.

“I’ve already tried to turn the trap on my enemies once, and paid dearly for it.” You say bitterly. “I cannot do it again, not when my family’s life hangs in the balance.”

“Your family is already dead, boy!” The voices snarl, hundreds at once, stunning you into silence. “Or they will be, soon. They are beyond your help now. Only you remain. Mourn them, if you must and fight on.”

Tears spring to your eyes quickly, but you refuse to believe the voices. This must be a fever dream, nothing more. Your fear turns to frustration. Soon, your vision starts constricting, and you sigh with relief that the dream is ending. But the… thing shouts out one last warning to you.

“When he comes for your soul, he will be at his most vulnerable. Strike him them, and not before.”

You shake your head with disbelief, the crazed ramblings washing over you. “Who are you?” You ask, as your sight dwindles to a single point. The dream lasts long enough for you to hear its answer.

“I am … you.”

--
>>
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>>4582060
Only fragments of the dream remain when you wake, and your recollection is fleeting. That day your dose of poppy is replaced with the dreamwine. It tastes sweeter than you expected, and you detect hints of honey. You shrug, if it lifted the fog in your head, you would drink even pisswater. Two more days pass before you can focus on a thought for more than a moment without a headache.

The first thing you do when you can think clearly again, is bombard the maester with questions about your family and your eventual fate, but the old man maintains a stoic silence. You glimpse looks of pity and sadness upon his fate sometimes, but he’s quick to replace them with a stony face, revealing nothing. At the end of the week, he declares your injuries sufficiently healed that you can walk again. Apparently, it’s important for a full recovery to do a few exercises every day and go outside for a walk. You are being treated exceptionally well for a prisoner, you think.

You brighten at the news, eager to be let out of this room and on your feet again. Perhaps you’ll catch a glimpse or a floating conversation about what happened to your family. Were they here in the Dreadfort? You know you heard them being mentioned, but you cannot recall what was said. For once you’re thankful for the wine-induced sleep, else your worries and nightmares would never let you sleep again.

A routine is established in the coming days, where a Bolton man-at-arms in full plate takes you outside for a walk every morning, and the maester helps you with some exercises in the evenings. The walk is not exciting as it seemed at first. Your room is situated in a lower level in the maester’s tower, and your daily route takes you along the walls of the castle, up to the portcullis over the main gate, then back again. You peer over the sharp merlons at the lifeless countryside, hoping for escape, but your gruff guard pokes you in the back with the butt of his spear. You tried to talk to him, but you could not get a peep out of him. It seems everyone has been ordered to talk to you as little as possible.

A manservant helps you with dressing for the day and cleans your chamberpot. You try to coax some information out of him at first, but the timid man is afraid of you for some reason, and does not answer any of your questions. Your clothes and boots are stored in a locked cupboard in your room, the key to which hangs from the servant’s back pocket.

One day you’re impatient to step out in the sun, so you stand behind the servant as he retrieves your clothes, willing him to go faster. What you see brings hope to your frozen heart once more. The lowest shelf is steeped in shadows, but that does not prevent you from seeing your torn and tattered armour shoved in there, along with your boots. You search for it with excitement, and yes! You can see the handle of your stiletto poking out from the pile.
>>
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>>4582063
The servant seems wholly unaware as he shuts the cupboard and hands you fresh clothes.

At the end of the third week of your confinement, Maester Uthor lets slip that Lord Bolton was going to return within a week. That hastens your plans. If you wanted try something, you had to do it before he returned. He had taken a substantial portion of the garrison with him, leaving the Dreadfort thinly manned. Although you hadn’t been harmed yet, that was sure to change when Lord Bolton returned. You could only hope for a swift execution for killing his son, but knew there were much worse alternatives.

You ponder over your options. You could try to escape during one of your walks outside. Although the guard was heavily armed and armoured, it would also slow him down. But he was not the only guard in the castle, and at any point there were at least a dozen archers spread along the walls. Then there was the matter of evading the search parties.

You could also try to get into the cupboard to retrieve your weapons. There were a number of ways you could do that. You could overpower the servant in the mornings, or steal his keys. But your action would be quickly discovered that way. You could also force open your stitches, and when the maester came to patch them up, you could swipe some of his tools to pick the lock later. The method was painful, but it would allow you to retrieve your weapons on your own time without being detected.

But all of these attempts carried with them a risk, that if you failed Lord Bolton would be angered by your abuse of his hospitality. You could not say you were ill-treated yet in your time at the Dreadfort, and you had eaten more than a fair share of bread of salt by now. He could take it out on you, or even on your family, if they were really here. Could you really risk that? So lastly you could just bide your time patiently and hope that your good behaviour would convince Lord Bolton to grant you some manner of mercy.

--

What do you do?
>Escape during the morning walk
>Get your weapons back from the cupboard
>Do nothing and stay compliant
>Something else (Write-in)

If option 1 is picked, there will be a further vote on whether you want to escape outside or visit the dungeons first. If option 2 is picked, there will be a further vote on whether you want to overpower the servant, steal his keys, or steal the maester’s tools and pick the lock. You are free of injuries and wounds for the purpose of the tests. You have two Glory Points remaining.

Finishing a story is turning out to be much harder than starting one, I’m all over the place trying to get this right. Tell me if you find something off.
>>
>>4582066
Question is if Hal is more tenacious or reasonable.

What if we don't try to escape but sneak into the dungeons to check on our family's fate?

I don't want to antagonize the maester because we may need his help after we've been flayed for the escape.

>Escape during the morning walk
>>
>>4582066
>Get your weapons back from the cupboard
>>
>>4582150
>What if we don't try to escape but sneak into the dungeons to check on our family's fate?
And then go back to your room? Sure, but if you succeed, they'll know you can give them the slip, so you'll be placed under constant watch and bound with a rope when out on walks.
>>
>>4582066
>>Escape during the morning walk
>>
>>4582066
>>Do nothing and stay compliant
Guys, please. We've made enough bad decisions this quest. Attempting to escape will guarantee our family's death whether we succeed or fail. If we remain compliant for now then we may be able to bargain for our sister's life at least.
>>
>>4582236
I was leaning towards the option but I'd like to know if they are alive even.
>>
>>4582248
It's all about the risk, and how much you're willing to take on. You asked if Hal is more tenacious or reasonable. Time to decide.
>>
>>4582259
Fair enough, I'm changing my vote from
>>4582178
to
>Do nothing and stay compliant
Time to finally do something smart this time
>>
I'll be back in 8-9 hours to start writing. The vote is open until then. We're in the endgame now.
>>
>>4582248
Finding out whether they're alive doesn't mean anything if we don't have a way to use that information. Don't want to blow our one escape attempt only to get cornered in the dungeon.

That said, if there's anything we can do now to improve our chances in the future. We should try to memorise the keep's layout on our next morning walk and maybe identify where the dungeon/barracks/stables/other key structures are. If we can find a spoon or something to file into a shiv then great otherwise maybe sneak a good sized rock down our britches on the next walk, wrap it in strips from our bedclothes and you've got a handy flail.
>>
>>4582348
That's doable. In fact, let's do it right now. Roll an Awareness check to see if you can identify potential items you can use as makeshift weapons. Then you can decide whether to pick them up or not. If you go ahead with using them, it will be substituted for the 2nd option in the vote, but with lower risk of discovery (since you aren't patted down every day).

Give me 3 rolls of 5d6 (4D + 1B) for Awareness.
>>
>>4582358
>>4582348
This also goes for identifying guard patterns, buildings etc. So basically this roll will give you more information to work with to decide this vote. I should have thought of this myself, sorry about that.
>>
Rolled 4, 5, 6, 4, 1 = 20 (5d6)

>>4582358
Let's see how we can fuck this up.
>>
Be back in 8-9 hours, get the rest of the rolls in by then.
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 1, 1, 5 = 17 (5d6)

>>4582348
Can't threaten Hal with harming or torturing his siblings if he knows that they are already dead.

>>4582358
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 2, 6, 5 = 20 (5d6)

>>4582358
>>
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You needed more information to take a clear decision. Right now, you were going off on too many assumptions and suppositions. So you take the next three days just to observe, keeping your eyes and ears on alert for any useful piece of information.

You start committing the layout of the castle to your memory, as well as the faces and positioning of the guards. During your morning walks, you are able to keep an eye on all the portions of the castle visible from up above. You notice that there are exactly 15 archers stationed on the walls each morning, with a captain taking his place above the portcullis guarding the main gate. Each archer was equipped with a longbow and a quiver carrying a dozen arrows, as well as a longsword.

The walls stood higher in some places, and lower in others. There was a particular section of the walls only 30 feet from the hill below. It would be a nasty fall if you jumped from here to the ground below, but you reckon you could still stand and run after landing, albeit with a few broken bones. If only it was winter, then a layer of snow below would protect you from a fall, you think wistfully. But alas, it was the waning months of summer still, and you could see no freak summer snows on the horizon.

Every morning the castle is filled with grunts of soldiers in the practice yard. You can count around two dozen men-at-arms in training armour, practicing their skills with the sword, mace and pike on wooden dummies. They stream in from a building close to the inner keep, which you speculate is the barracks. It is a long way from the barracks and the training yard to the gates, so any response to mischief at the gates would be slower than normal.

A large stable is situated near the entrance to the Dreadfort, housing at least two dozen warhorses and a variety of other breeds. A tower near the entrance gate provides access from the walls to the stables below, but it is guarded by at least two archers and the captain. If you could somehow find your way to the stables, you would have to deal with the stablehands, steal a horse, and ride away before others in pursuit caught you. That was a tall order, you think with a grimace. Your experience around animals was limited to those you hunted, and the occasional dog or hunting hound. It was not impossible, but incredibly difficult.

Your efforts to find any weakness find fruit when you notice a pattern. Every morning, just when you are walking back to your room in the maester’s tower, one of the archers guarding the entrance gate is replaced for the day shift, and his replacement walks up to chat with the Captain. If you had to guess from their expressions, they were friends. That provided you with a window of opportunity where you had to deal with only one guard, and hope to be quick enough that you could escape below before the others could rush to you. Even then you would have to deal with the others in the stables.
>>
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>>4582831
You have no clue about where the dungeons are, nor do you catch any stray words indicating whether your family was in the castle. Most of the residents of the Dreadfort were a quiet and brooding lot, you think, speaking only when necessary, adding to the dark and oppressive atmosphere of the castle. If you had to guess, the dungeons would either be beneath the castle, or in one of the massive towers you were not allowed to enter.

There are other things you notice. You were fed well once you weaned off the milk of the poppy. You had three full meals a day, of a variety of dishes. Fresh bread and bacon, along with roasted onions dipped in gravy. Mushrooms, kissed with garlic and bathed in butter. Wedges of cheese served with honeyed wine. You imagine this is what lordly feasts look like. You think with wry amusement that you are being fed like a pig is fattened up before slaughter.

The dish that catches your attention is cubes of cheese, roasted in butter and served with a sour sauce. Not for their taste, which was exquisite, but the long iron skewer they were mounted on. Perhaps an oversight in their attempt to serve kingly banquets, but now you had a weapon in your reach, which could serve as a crude version of your stiletto, though poorly. You could also use it for picking locks. To that end, you found that the blunt knife provided to you to spread butter on bread had a loose handle. You could detach the handle and use the long straight piece of metal on the opposite end as a tumbler.

You were left mostly alone when eating your food, and the door was locked from the outside. This provided a way to get to your weapons without attracting too much attention. But it would take time. The dishes served every day were changed randomly, and you didn’t know when the exact combination of dishes would be served that allowed you access to the tools you needed.

Lastly you detect looks being directed your way, more than normal. Out on your walks from the guardsmen, from the maester when he came to direct your exercises, from the servant who dressed you and served you. Looks of pity, looks of fear, and most disconcertingly, looks of scorn. You do not know what to make of them, other than to put your guard up, and prepare for what was coming.

Lord Bolton’s day of arrival loomed closer and closer, and you had still no news about your family. How much could you risk to escape? Would they be punished even if you succeeded? These questions weigh heavily on your mind at night, when you gulp down the dreamwine gratefully. At least the dreams have stopped.
>>
>>4582832
What do you do?
>Escape during the morning walk
>Get your weapons back from the cupboard
>Do nothing and stay compliant
>Something else (Write-in)

If escaping is picked, there will be a further vote on whether to jump down from the walls (Which will inflict 10 damage to you – of which up to 5 damage can be negated with an Acrobatics test) or to escape from the main gate on a stolen horse. Or maybe to try to find the dungeons first.
If getting your weapons back from the cupboard is picked, there will be a further vote on whether you want to overpower the servant, steal his keys, steal the maester’s tools and pick the lock, or use the utensils to pick the lock (new option).
You are free of injuries and wounds for the purpose of the tests. You have two Glory Points remaining.

Sorry for the delay, but 'tis the Season! Merry Christmas, everyone!
>>
>>4582835
Wait for a meal with useable utensil, unlock our equipment and use darkness to our advantage to explore the lower parts of the castle. As it is understaffed, it is likely we won't encounter too many guards along the way.
Perhaps we'll even find a servant entrance.
>>
>>4582861
>use darkness to our advantage to explore the lower parts of the castle
You can do this if this option is picked, but I'll warn you that the DC for picking the door lock will very high (but not impossible). And if you get caught sneaking around, the consequences will be the same as if you got caught running away.
>>
>>4582883
Which door?
And I get the warning but would the MC know this?
Seems like every action but sitting on our hands comes with a stiff warning.

I'm inclined to vote for doing nothing now because you're telling we're likely to fail or there will be dire consequences.
>>
>>4582886
The door to your room, which is locked more securely than others, will have a higher DC than the door to the cupboard.

The warnings are actually in-character for Hal and not my advice to you (other than me warning you about high DC on a test). The fear of consequences conveyed in the story text is based totally on Hal's perception and thoughts, not QM's words. It is entirely possible that in reality Roose does nothing bad even if you're caught breaking some rules, or even rewards you for showing some spunk.

Or on the opposite end, that he will or has already had everyone executed, so you sitting and doing nothing might be wasting an opportunity.

The point is Hal does not know. I've tried to portray the frustration and uncertainty of not knowing. Although you can draw some reasonable conclusions from what's been written so far.

Sorry if I've been unclear or unknowingly pushing you into a particular choice. Thanks for highlighting that.
>>
>>4582897
I guess I'm feeling as uncertain as Hal, so it was a success.

Alright, I'm not so confident in our ability to pick a tough lock so lets proceed by overpowering the servant.

Do we know if a guard escorts the servant whenever the latter visits us?
>>
>>4582835
>Do nothing and stay compliant
I feel like we've done too much stupid shit so far, let's fix this.
>>
>>4582835
>>Do nothing and stay compliant
>>
>>4582908
>Do we know if a guard escorts the servant whenever the latter visits us?
There is a guard patrolling on the same floor as your room.
>>
>>4582835
>>Do nothing and stay compliant
>>
Safe and cautious it is, then. I'm going to turn in for the night and get an update tomorrow morning. Merry Christmas again! The next part is going to be wild. Stay tuned!
>>
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>Do nothing and stay compliant

In the end, with barely four days left before Lord Bolton’s arrival, you decide that you’ve come too far in your innocent act to play rebel now. The risks are too great, you think morosely. If your captors deigned to see you treated so well, it’s likely that your family is here too, somewhere in the castle. Any attempts to escape or cause mischief would pose far more danger to them than you, given the good care you’ve received. They clearly have a purpose in mind for you, although you don’t know what it is. You’re not sure if your family is as essential for that purpose.

So, thinking of Kyra, your mother and your father, you send a prayer to the Gods to look after them, and continue as you did. You go for your walks in the morning, do your exercises with the maester in the evenings, and go to sleep with a daily dose of dreamwine, playing the perfect part of the docile and cowed prisoner. All in the hopes of a more lenient judgment for your crime. But at night, just when you’re about to doze off, you worry if you’ve wasted an opportunity for naught, if your family is already dead. Sleep takes you before you can ponder too long on that question.

The night before Lord Bolton’s imminent arrival, even the dreamwine can’t get you to sleep properly. You toss and turn, and wake up covered in sweat, imagining all sorts of horrible things you would be subjected to. Being flayed slowly, having your skin peeled piece by piece, and a cloak being made out of it. It is almost dawn by the time you’re finally exhausted enough to fall asleep. Thankfully the servants do not wake you up on your usual time.

--

“The meeting went well, my lord?” a voice speaks. Another of your dream? You thought they had stopped with your intake of the poppy.

“As well as it could, Uthor.” A soft voice speaks, and you have to concentrate harder to hear it properly. It sounds vaguely familiar. “The King has grown as fat as he’s incompetent, just like my sources said. He is more interested in drinking and whoring than being King. All the better for our goals. I talked to the second sons and uncles of the Lords who had attended. Some of them are amenable, given the proper incentives.” He speaks cryptically.

“And Lord Stark..?” the first voice tries changing the subject.

“Was on edge, and more suspicious than usual. When you sent me the report on Walton’s work, I came to him immediately. Gave him the story we agreed upon, of a group of bandits sweeping in from Hornwood lands, destroying an entire village before we could stop them. He didn’t seem convinced. I wouldn’t be.” Somehow the man doesn’t seem too concerned about this.

“It was the best we could come up with on such short notice, my lord. If Walton had shown some restraint-“ the voice is cut off before it can finish the sentence.
>>
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>>4583478
“No, it is my fault, for letting it go so far. When I sent those men with Ramsay, I intended for them to keep an eye on him and check his worst impulses. I did not know he would turn them so easily into his enablers and collaborators. A lesson for next time, I suppose. If Ned Stark didn’t cling to his honour more dearly than his wife, I would be worried about him sending spies into my lands.” A chuckle is shared by the speakers, along with another voice that hadn’t spoken yet. A moment passes.

“Moving on, the King appointed Stark as his Hand, like we expected, and will take him south, leaving young Robb Stark in charge. It is a boon for our plans, Uthor. The whelp is barely four-and-ten. The other lords were already eyeing him like a pack of hyenas looks upon a cornered lamb. I shall not be left behind. He is green and untested, it is only a question of how much we can take before his father realizes. If only Stark wasn’t going with both of his daughters as well… but that point was moot after Ramsay’s death anyway.” He says with a sigh.

“About that my lord, I believe we should discuss the condition of young Hal then.”

The maester’s drawl finally convinces your mind that this was not a dream. But you don’t want to rise just yet, so you turn to your side to pull the blankets over your head. However you find that not only are you not in your bed, but you are standing up, not lying down. You attempt to struggle, but notice that your arms and legs are tightly bound. That jolts you immediately, as the first image that flashes in your mind is of Gareth, flayed and tied to a wooden cross, burning brightly. You open your eyes to see that you are in a dark room, dimly lit by torches ensconced along the walls, tied to a rough surface behind you, protruding from a wall. Although you can see unusually well in the dark, for some reason the walls are covered in shadows to your sight, and that irks you greatly. That has never happened before…

Looking forward, you see three men in the room, huddled around a bench with some tools and an open book on the top. You recognize Walton and Maester Uthor immediately. The third man can only be Lord Roose Bolton then. How long were you asleep?

The enigmatic lord is clad in black ring mail and a pale pink cloak, trimmed with white fur. He wields a longsword and a dirk on his hip. Perhaps he had just arrived, and went straight to business, you think with a shiver. He looks completely unremarkable, of an average height with an average build, neither plump nor thin. His face is forgettable, beardless and without any distinguishing features, other than its unusual pallor. The only thing about him that strikes you are his eyes, similar to yours, unnaturally pale and darker than milk, like two white moons. You gasp in shock, hoping that they hadn’t heard you.

--

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 (3D+1B) for Stealth (Sneak) to see if you manage to remain quiet enough to avoid alerting them. DC 12
>>
Rolled 5, 6, 1, 1 = 13 (4d6)

>>4583480
Looking forward to finally getting a clue to what this is all about.
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 2, 1 = 5 (4d6)

>>4583480
>>
Rolled 2, 3, 4, 3 = 12 (4d6)

>>4583480
>>
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>Rolled 12 vs DC 12, One Degree of Success.

You manage to bite your lip hard enough to prevent the noise from escaping, drawing blood in the process. Pain lances through you and you taste copper in your mouth, but the conversation continues as if they haven’t heard you, and you heave a silent sigh of relief. You wager that their tongues would be more guarded if they realized that you could hear them. You close your eyes and try to be as still as you can, keeping up the charade.

“Yes, about him.” Lord Bolton speaks quietly. “Did you check the others, or is he the only one? He can’t be one of mine, I kept a very close watch on the women I took pleasure with.”

“His father has similar eyes, my lord.” The maester replies. Hope surges within you at the mention of your father. If the maester had seen to him then he was alive! “Even closer to yours. The sister’s are less alike, but grey all the same. The mother’s are the dull brown of smallfolk, so it is likely that the father’s line shares blood with you. Upon questioning he revealed that the trait was in his family since his own grandfather at least.”

Lord Bolton lets out a scoff. “My father’s work then. Incredible. More years since his passing than I can count, and he still gives me trouble. Burning in dragonfire was not a fate worse enough for him. I wonder how many others carry the blood of House Bolton in their veins, completely oblivious. And you said that the blood had … changed, somehow?”

The maester answers nervously “Yes, my lord. I observed it first when I visited the family in the dungeons to treat them. Only, the father, Warrick, identified me as a maester from across the room, even before we had lit the lanterns. I conducted some tests on the rest, and found that both the father and the son carry this … mutation, but the mother and daughter do not.” He finishes with a cough.

Lord Bolton ponders over it for a moment, then speaks, “So these two are viable? The old man is out of the question, but the son is worth considering.” What does he mean? Viable? For what? You can already feel a headache coming, trying to decipher these words. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel eyes gazing at you. It takes some effort to maintain your breathing at a steady rate.

“He is indeed viable, my lord. I’ve spent the last four weeks bringing him back to full health. If you were to perform the change now, you would suffer no additional setbacks.” The maester pauses, then continues in an awed voice. “It is truly a marvel, my lord, for the blood to still show in him all these generations later. From what we know of inherited traits, the odds must be one in a million! And yet he shows promise.”
>>
>>4583497
Lord Bolton appears contemplative for a long moment, then speaks. “I do not know if we should commit to the change now. While we have the best opportunity to settle a new heir, it is also the best time to take advantage of Robb Stark’s inexperience. Perhaps young Hal can help us make this decision. Walton, shake him awake.” He orders the soldier.

You panic internally, not knowing if you can convincingly feign waking up. The choice is taken out of your hands, however, when Walton douses you with a bucket of ice-cold water. Your reaction is genuine as you splutter and cough, and you see Lord Bolton coming close to you.

“Greetings Hal. I’m told you killed you my son, Ramsay.” He says in a cold, emotionless voice, as if he was not talking about the death of his own son. “What do you have to say?”

--

What do you answer?
>Deny culpability. Say that it was actually your friend Owen who killed him.
>Try to justify your actions, explain that you killed Ramsay believing him to be a bandit.
>Simply say yes and ask for mercy. If not for you, then for your family.
>Stay silent. He may be toying with you, do not give him the satisfaction.
>Something else (write-in)

Leaving this one open for a little longer. I'm out for lunch with a friend, but I'll try to answer any questions.
>>
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>>4583498
>Yes I did, and I would have done it again a thousand times if offered the chance. Now get on with it, I know who you are, I know this song and dance, I know the stories. Father like son, eh?
or something generally like that (feel free to re-word it better or whatever QM)
>>
>>4583498
>Explain that you killed Ramsay believing him to be a bandit.

Just give it straight. He was a mad dog and had to be put down along the rest of his band of rapists.
>>
>>4583498
>>Try to justify your actions, explain that you killed Ramsay believing him to be a bandit.
Roose is a scheming bastard but he appreciates courage and honesty
>>
>>4583500
Haha, based. Maybe I'll do an omake with that choice after this ends.

>>4583503
>>4583553
Explaining that you killed Ramsay because you thought he was a bandit it is, then.

Give me 3 rolls of 4d6 (3D+1B) for Persuasion (Convince). The higher you roll, the more impact you have. Negative or positive, you'll find out in the next update. I'm sorry for the slow pace lately, but like I said, I'm spending time trying not to fuck this up at the end, we've had a fun quest so far.
>>
Rolled 6, 4, 4, 5 = 19 (4d6)

>>4583587
>>
Rolled 4, 5, 2, 5 = 16 (4d6)

>>4583587
>>
My sleep cycle has improved lately, so I'll grab a bite and turn in for the night. I'll be back in about 12 hours and start writing. Get that last roll in before then. We're really close now, I think only a few major decisions and rolls left now. Then I'll take a couple of days to write up an epilogue depending on which ending you choose.
>>
Rolled 2, 3, 4, 6 = 15 (4d6)

>>4583587
>>4583635
Take your time QM it's fine, this is a pretty slow board afterall.
>>
>>4583497
>If you were to perform the change now, you would suffer no additional setbacks
The hell? I'd assumed Roose would just want another heir but now I'm starting to worry he'll turn out to be a bloody bodysnatching warg or something.
>>
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You take a few moments to compose yourself and form your response. If he received a report from the maester, he likely already knows what happened. Is this another test, then? To see if you’d be truthful to him? Best not take any chances.

“M’lord”, you begin, trying to be as respectful and deferential as possible, “if I may be permitted to start from the beginning?” Lord Bolton gives you a wordless nod, so you continue.

“It started with my sister Kyra and the miller’s son Gareth, running off into the woods alone. My pa’ didn’t like them fooling around with each other without a betrothal in sight, so I went after them to talk some sense into Gareth. When I came upon them, they had been accosted by a group of men and a hound, who talked about killing them. When one of them lay his hands on my sister, I could not abide by that, so a fight broke out, in which all the men and Gareth were killed. I carried my wounded sister home.”

The Lord of the Dreadfort interrupts you here, “These men, they carried no banner or sigils?”

“No, my lord. Their cloaks and armour were dyed black.” You resume your account, “They indicated that there were more of them still in the woods. There was also Gareth’s body to be retrieved, so the next day, I gathered up my friends and the fighting men of the village to head back into the forest.”

You pause at the memory of your friends, poor Owen and Torrhen, and the others you so willingly and eagerly led into the trap. Guilt stabs at you and tears prick at your eyes.

Lord Bolton tilts his head and gives you a curious look, so you clench your hands into fists and persevere, “We reached the clearing where the fight happened, only to discover that the bodies of the bandits were gone, and Gareth’s corpse had been strung up on a cross.”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering how do you say this without implying an accusation? You use some of Tommard’s words to try to placate him, “Not unlike your own banner, my lord. He had been flayed and set on fire. We thought that the bandits were trying to malign your name, so we set out to finish them.”

You waver and risk looking him directly in the eyes, but he does not look too upset. Yet. “The bandits left a clear track, my lord, so we kept our ears and eyes open and followed it.”

“Not very clever, that. Was it your idea?” He remarks, sounding mildly amused.

You close your eyes and will yourself not to show your frustration on your face. You grind your teeth painfully, and answer, “It was, my lord. I had too much confidence after emerging the victor in the last fight. That was my undoing.”

You sigh, then barrel on. “We discovered the trap too late, and by then we were in the position the bandits wanted us in. Their bowmen picked a favourable spot on a hill overlooking us, and had makeshift barriers protecting them from our own arrows.”
>>
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>>4584252
Lord Bolton seems contemplative, even slightly surprised. “I did not expect Ramsay to have a tactical mind. Did you kill him yourself, then?” He asks, his voice finally sounding grave. Perhaps he had not come to terms with the loss until just now. You fumble, not knowing how to answer this without endangering yourself and your family. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, and speaks sternly, “Do not make me resort to more painful ways of finding out the truth. Speak, now.” His eyes bore into you unnervingly.

“I did, my lord. We managed to repel the charge from the bandits, although we lost many of our own to the archers. It came down to me and my friend, Owen, fighting Ramsay and a man named Reek. Ramsay threatened to … take one girl from my village for each of his hounds we killed. He threatened to rape my sister, my lord!”

You are unable to keep your voice down, and some of the outrage spills through, as you relive the intense emotions you felt that day. The others seem taken aback a bit, but recover quickly, and glare at you. You speak quickly, before any of them took action.

“I did not know he was your son, my lord. If I had known, I would…”

Lord Bolton cuts you short once again, “You would what? Would you let him go, if you knew you that the man you faced was my son? The man who promised to rape your sister? Who killed your friends?” He asks, but his tone appears more inquisitive than furious.

--

What do you answer?
>Yes, I would have let him go.
>No, I still would have killed him.
>I would bring him to you for judgment.
>Something else (Write-in)
>>
>>4584253
>>No, I still would have killed him.
>>
>>4584253
>>No milord, I still would have killed him.
He deserved to die, and aside from that I could not have allowed him to seek vengeance against my family.
>>
>>4584253
>No, I still would have killed him.
>>
>>4584253
>No, I still would have killed him.
>>
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>No, I still would have killed him.

Lord Bolton’s words give you pause. Would you have spared Ramsay, if you had known he was Lord Bolton’s son? An image of Kyra lying broken in her bed comes to your mind unbidden, and the answer slips out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“No, my lord. I would have killed him. Even if I knew that he was your son. Perhaps I could have brought him to you for judgment, but one day he would succeed you. And then he would make good on his promise. I could not take that risk, could not gamble with my sister’s life. So I put him down like the rabid dog he was. And I would do it a thousand times over, given the chance. I’m ready for any punishment you have for me, my lord.”

You speak far more confidently than you feel, and look Lord Bolton in the eye, awaiting his judgment.

But instead of becoming angry, his eyes acquire an appreciative gleam. He looks you over from top to bottom, as if seeing you for the first time. “You impress me, Hal. From what I heard, I expected you to be a meek little boy, too naïve and innocent for this world. When I dangled those weapons so close to you and you did not take the bait, I thought you were too timid for what I intended. But it appears that you have a spine underneath after all. Perhaps it was the deaths of your friends that hardened you.”

You fume in anger at the casual jibe, clenching your teeth so hard that you’re afraid they’ll break.

“You’re right, Ramsay was indeed a rabid dog. I had placed some men with him to temper him, but they only ended up emboldening him. If you had not done so, I would have dealt with him myself.”

His words give you some hope, so you look up to meet his eyes, only for him to crush it with his next sentence.

“Still, he was my son. I intended for him to be my heir. You had no right to kill him. I don’t want smallfolk getting ideas about killing lordlings without any repercussions. That is why your village is now in ashes.” He pauses for a moment to see if you would react to his brazen acknowledgment of destroying your home and the village. It takes every ounce of patience in your body to not struggle to free your arms and wring his neck. He smiles thinly when you do not give him the reaction he wants.

“I have lost two heirs in as many years, Hal, and now I’m all that’s left of House Bolton. I will marry and try for another son, of course, but that may take years. I have always believed that boy lords are the bane of any house, and I will not leave my own house to such a fate. Thankfully, I have found new members of House Bolton, no matter how distantly related.”

He says with a grin, and steps up close, so his eyes are only inches away from yours. You recall that the colour you each share is called ghost grey. You lose the intense staring contest, and look away nervously.
>>
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>>4584587
“As you may have guessed, your family is related to mine, through your father’s line. One of my ancestors must have sown some wild seeds, and you are the result. No one will question if I called you another of my bastard sons, like Ramsay.”

You turn your head so fast that the bones in your neck pop. You look at him wide eyes, disgusted with where you know he’s going, but he continues before you can get a word in.

“So I offer you a choice, Hal. Your punishment for killing Ramsay and seven of my men-at-arms, is in your own hands. First option, take your place as my son and heir. You will be the next Lord of the Dreadfort, but so long as I’m alive, you will obey me completely in every action. I may tell you to murder a child, rape a young maiden, marry whomever I wish you to marry, kill in my name, and you will do it without any question or hesitation. In return, I will set your family free, arrange a favourable marriage for your sister, build a respectable home for your parents, and in time, I will ask for you to be legitimized. I will see that they are taken care of for the rest of their lives, but you shall never see them again. I will hold your life in my palm of my hand.”

Your heart constricts in pain, and love lost. Memories of your parents and Kyra come flooding in front of your eyes. The awe in your sister’s eyes when you successfully pulled off a trick, the quiet pride of your father when you brought home a prize catch, and the unbounded love of your mother when you told her your worries, it all dances before your eyes.

Lord Bolton’s soft voice brings you back to the present, making you focus.

“The second option is that I execute you and your father here and now. I don’t want any more children with Bolton blood bouncing around without my knowledge, and no one will ask twice if I say that your father struck a knight. Your sister does not share our common traits, so I’ll let her and your mother go. What they do afterwards and how they survive, is entirely up to them. There are some whorehouses in the Eastern ports that I’ll recommend to her.” He says calmly. You bite your lip again to stop the string of expletives from leaving your mouth. But you realize that you are entirely powerless here. So after a moment, you hang your head in resignation.

“This is not really a choice, is it?” You ask dejectedly.

“No” is the simple answer from Lord Bolton. “Your fate was sealed from the moment you allowed yourself to be dragged here on the back of a horse. But I am giving you the power of deciding your punishment. So what will it be, Hal? Will you go out honourably, or sell your soul to save your family?”

Goose bumps break out all over your body at those last words, something about a warning from a half-remembered dream. A chill runs up your spine, and your ears ring with a thousand noises. You have to decide now, before the choice is taken out of your hands.
>>
>>4584589
What do you do?
>Sell your soul. But your family will be taken care of. You will become the heir to the Dreadfort, and a future Lord, even if you have to Lord Bolton’s bidding.
>Keep your soul. But your family will be broken apart. You and your father will be executed, and your mother and sister will be left on the streets.

--

This is the final choice of this quest. I understand if you're upset like Hal, that this is not really a choice at all. But like Roose says, your fate was sealed when you lost the fight to Sour Alyn. You can only choose how bad it will get. I'll leave this open for a while, and will be answering any questions that you have. You will see your family one last time, no matter which choice is picked.
>>
>>4584592
take the black
>>
>>4584605
if Roose refuses to let him take the black you're a railroading dick who doesn't understand the setting or the North
>>
>>4584592
>>Sell your soul. But your family will be taken care of. You will become the heir to the Dreadfort, and a future Lord, even if you have to Lord Bolton’s bidding.
It was all coming to this.

>I may tell you to murder a child, rape a young maiden, marry whomever I wish you to marry, kill in my name, and you will do it without any question or hesitation.
And why would he need to tell us to do that? Are these just examples of unconditional obedience or Roose intends Hal to do that? With that kind of parenting no wonder Ramsey turned into a monster.

>>4584605
I considered that as well but what becomes of the family then?
>>
>>4584605
And spread the tales about what you saw everywhere? Roose won't let that happen, not after basically admitting to destroying your whole village. This is the one choice I'm not allowing write-ins, unless you present a convincing argument.
>>
>>4584612
so you are a railroading fag who doesn't understand the setting

great

a crow is about as believed as any other criminal with a sob story. few would believe him.
>>
>>4584613
in the books multiple crows talk about how shit their lords were and drove them to crime after this atrocity or that

no one gives a shit because crows are 90% of the time lying criminals
>>
>>4584614
also everyone knows Roose is a murderous psychopath. One more story about him burning down a village won't do squat to his reputation
>>
you're ignoring the in-universe third option open to all criminals to force an edgy false dilemma

roose is a lot of things but he's also a lord of the north who respects the sacred oaths of the Night's Watch and the Wall.
>>
>>4584609
>And why would he need to tell us to do that? Are these just examples of unconditional obedience or Roose intends Hal to do that?
These are the things he may require from you in the future, given his plans. He's laying it all out on the table, what you may be expected to do without any questions.

>With that kind of parenting no wonder Ramsey turned into a monster.
I love to pile on Roose too, but Ramsay was raised mostly by his mother and Reek.

>>4584605
>>4584608
>>4584613
>>4584614
>>4584615
>>4584622
I'm sorry you feel this way, but remember that this is not canon, as I've said multiple times. There's a reason Roose is only allowing you these two choices and won't allow you to take the black, which I've hinted at multiple times in the text (and so far only a single anon picked up on). Thank you for participating in the quest so far. I'd tell you which exact sequence led to this choice, but that's too meta right now. I'll lay out all the cards on the table after the epilogue.
>>
>>4584623
>I'm sorry you feel this way
I'm sorry you're a railroading fag but what can you do
>>
Roose will just forces on you to do something terrible to your family if you take his offer, because the QM is a railroading fag
>>
>>4584630
I'll ask you not to shit up my thread any more, please. I'm saying that there's a reason you're not being allowed to take the black, which has been hinted at multiple times if you read the text carefully. If you are unable to find it, I'll spell it out for you after the epilogue.
>>
>>4584630
You're way too aggressive and annoying desu.

Taking the black is pretty much the same as refusing the offer as nothing keeps Roose from killing Hal and his kin then.
>>
>>4584592
>>Sell your soul. But your family will be taken care of. You will become the heir to the Dreadfort, and a future Lord, even if you have to Lord Bolton’s bidding.
Ask to at least say goodbye to our family. Roose might forbid us from revealing our fate but I'm hopeful he'll let us tell them we love them.

>>4584623
Please ignore the fag throwing a tantrum.
Not only is this your story and you're free to diverge from canon whenever you feel the need but we got a pretty clear indication of how seriously Roose takes ancient traditions and sacred oaths during the Red Wedding. The man is, imo, a pragmatist above all and killing us/our family is a hell of a lot simpler and safer than letting us fuck off to the wall.
>>
>>4584592
>>4584649
Speaking of pragmatism, it might be worth pointing out that if he's thinking of quietly killing our family once he's said goodbye this would be a mistake. If he kills them now it does tie up a loose end but it also throws away the surest form of leverage he has over us.
Not to mention any familial regard he might have for his nephew and grand-niece.
>>
>>4584667
Of course the leverage argument is a lot less compelling if he's decided to warg us before war breaks out.
>>
>>4584649
>>4584667
Excellent suggestions. If this vote wins, I'll try to include them.
>>
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>>4584592
>Sell your soul. But your family will be taken care of. You will become the heir to the Dreadfort, and a future Lord, even if you have to Lord Bolton’s bidding.
>>4584630
You're a fucking retard and should stop embarrassing yourself. There's no reason why Roose should let us become a loose end, especially when we have decent proof of our birth (I,E our eyes). He could kill us right now with zero repercussions and nip any potential problem down the line.
>>
>>4584632
>If you are unable to find it, I'll spell it out for you after the epilogue.
Yeah its called, 'I'm a fag QM'

>>4584644
>>4584692
enjoy being railroaded in the ass

>how seriously Roose takes ancient traditions and sacred oaths during the Red Wedding

Robb betrayed his oath to Walder Frey to marry Walder's daughter. That was the main impetus for turning on him. Roose joined the betrayal because Robb kept betraying his oaths to his bannermen, same as executing the Karstarks without trial. Also, Roose is apparently a willy-nilly kinslayer in this 'canon' too.

>loose end
>proof of our birth

Yeah its not like joining the Night's Watch has been a way of tidying up 'loose ends' too, amirite. You join the Wall and that's it, all claims of parentage or rights voided.
>>
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>>4584699
I don't think I've ever seen someone speed-read a quest this badly before, holy shit.
>Roose is apparently a willy-nilly kinslayer
At best we're like fucking distant cousins, hardly kin-slaying you illiterate sperg. He hasn't even touched them, he's just using our family to strong-arm us into being obedient. He doesn't honestly expect us to pick the latter option because no sane person would.
Also
If he kills us, we will never become a problem ever again. if he sends us to wall however, no matter how small, there is a CHANCE it could bite him in the ass later, especially if we squeal about him burning down villages or whatever. Would you rather take the 0% or the 1%? I think the answer is quite obvious
>>
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The ‘choice’ in the end, is no choice at all. Between condemning your family to death and misery, and ‘selling your soul’, you’d sell your soul a thousand times. That particular phrase is unnerving to you, and makes your hair stand on edge for some reason, but perhaps it is something the high Lords say. In any case, it’s not as if you can do anything about it.

“I’ll do it. The first option.” You say, resignation lacing your voice heavily.

“Excellent.” Lord Bolton’s face acquires a predatory grin, which looks unnatural on his otherwise emotionless face. “You’ve made the correct choice. Now, because you’ve been compliant so far, I’ll allow you to say your goodbyes to your family. Can I trust you to hold your tongue on the nature of our deal?” He asks you seriously. You nod, not trusting your voice to break down. He turns to the others in the room.

“Walton, see to it that Hal’s family is reunited in his room. One hour, and stand near the door. Uthor, ensure that the appropriate arrangements are made, and they are moved out as soon as possible.” He orders, which the two men hurry to fulfil.

He turns to you and starts cutting your bindings, speaking as he works, “I’ll introduce you to the court in a month. You’ll start your lessons with Maester and Walton from tomorrow. Letters first, I can’t have an heir not knowing his letters.”

You are a bit overwhelmed with the new responsibilities being piled upon you. So you ask the question worrying you the most. “My lord, if I’m never to see my family again, how will I know if they are prospering, if Kyra is happy with her marriage?”

“Ah, already learning, I see.” Lord Bolton seems admiring. “You must probe a problem from all angles until all your doubts are answered. Your concern is reasonable, Hal. I will give you a say in who your sister marries, and I’ll ask her husband to ensure she is literate. Then the two of you can exchange letters, provided I read through them first. But you shall not meet her or your parents again after today.”

You sigh as you rub your wrists and ankles, they have chafed a bit when you struggled to maintain your composure. That will have to do, you suppose. As you stand upright and look Lord Bolton in the eye, you vow that if you ever find out that he has not fulfilled his side of the bargain to its fullest extent, you will bring down the heavens on him.

You may die ultimately, but you will take him down with you. Although no words are exchanged, it seems that Lord Bolton has got the message. For the tiniest of moments, he appears as unnerved as you. Then he calls for a guard to escort you to your room. The last thing you see when you exit the room, is that you were tied to the bone-white roots of a tree, coming down into the room from above.

A weirwood.
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>>4584740
The reunion with your family is painful and full of tears, for it is also a farewell. Kyra has recovered fully, although the spark of brightness she carried is gone. Your parents look thinner than usual, but otherwise fine. It appears that they were inside the house when Walton’s soldiers attacked, and were carried out from the outskirts, so they did not see much of the carnage. You tell them that your punishment is working for Lord Bolton for the rest of your life, but they will be compensated for some of the pain caused. The only catch is that they cannot meet you again, or even mention you, but you can stay in touch when Kyra learns her letters.

Your mother does not take it well, and Kyra is outraged at being married so soon after Gareth’s death. There is much bawling and shouting, threats of violence and harm, but your father manages to calm them down by reminding them that the fate they expected was a long and drawn-out death. This was practically a boon in comparison. Although they do not accept it immediately, at least the shouting dies down. All that is left then, is to embrace each other tightly, sobbing quietly.

When your time is up, your father takes you to the corner of the room, and tells you, “You take care of yourself, Hal. May the Gods be with you. I’ll hold down the fort with them.” Echoing his last words on the day you left for the forest to retrieve Gareth’s body. You nod quickly and pat his shoulders, before the tears start flowing again.

Kyra wraps you in a bone-crushing hug, and promises you fiercely that she’ll learn how to write as soon as possible. Your mother has no more words left, except to tell you that she loves you, over and over.

You escort them out yourself when the hour is up, exchanging final hugs and goodbyes, never to see them again. That night you request the maester to bring you the dreamwine.

--

If you allowed yourself to wallow, you would be drowned in your sorrow, so you throw yourself into your lessons with all your energy. Learning history, language and economics from the maester, and practicing the sword and the lance with Walton. By the time Lord Bolton introduces you to the court as his ‘son’, you already have a firm grasp on your letters, and know how to ride a horse skilfully.

Sometimes, when he thinks you are not aware, he gives you looks that no man should give his son, like a wolf looks at his next meal. You stay permanently on edge, and the voices in your dreams get louder. You cannot do much about it, however, so you put up your defenses and sharpen your blades.

It is a good thing too, because in a few months, war breaks out.

--

The good news is, that the epilogue is almost done too. I’ve rolled some final rolls to decide how things end, and I’ll just say that you’ll want to stick around for it. Just doing some final editing. Might be out within the hour, if I’m quick enough.
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>>4584742
Ignore the bitch throwing a tantrum. Roose is willing to conspire to murder people on guest's rights. He won't send us to the wall if he doesn't want to.
>>
-- EPILOGUE --
Three Years Later
The Godswood of Winterfell

The snows haven’t stopped for two straight weeks now. Layers upon layers of wool and fur cannot stop the chill that rattles your bones in the cold. The greybeards tell you that it is the worst winter storm they’ve ever seen. You don’t doubt them for a moment. The wind is especially harsh today, bitter and freezing, seeping into your skin like a thousand knives at once. Especially so since you’re naked and out in the open, tied to the giant heart tree in the Godswood of Winterfell. It has been your home for more than a year now, ever since you took it back from the Ironborn in a daring assault. That had elevated your position among the Northern Lords greatly, and rankled your so-called ‘father’. Perhaps that was why you were in this position.

Roose Bolton glares at you hatefully, standing 10 feet away before a table lined with various tools and implements, surrounded by a small circle of torches. If it wasn’t for your unnatural sight, you’d barely be able to see past him, so dark is the night. The Godswood is empty except for you two, and you imagine that he’s instructed the guards not to allow anyone else in. He breaks the silence finally.

“You found my journal, then. How did you even know to look for it in the first place?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the howling of the wind.

How do you explain to him that you’re visited by a monster in your dreams, claiming to be you, whispering secrets in your ear in a thousand voices, helping you remember lost memories, snippets of conversation you barely heard? So you go for a simpler answer.

“Call it intuition.” You bite out. “You were too careless with your words around me. I always knew there was something wrong.”

“I see. And how much did you read?” He asks you.

“I haven’t even opened it yet. I was busy-“

“With your wife, yes.” He interrupts you. You growl at the mention of her. “I imagine she requires all your attention these days, you are the doting sort. No matter, you’ve pieced it together by now. I don’t suppose you’ll let it happen without interfering?”

“Three years ago, I would. But not anymore. I can’t bear you pawing at my wife wearing my skin, holding my children like your own, knowing you would do it to them too, in time.”

“Please. As if I would hold any children.” He scoffs, “The more attached you become, the harder it gets to change when the time comes. That’s how my grandfather died. After five hundred years of killing his own sons and wearing their skins, he couldn’t do it anymore. So he broke down crying and told my father everything. How the ritual was performed, how to change your mannerisms, how to avoid suspicion. He wanted to die peacefully in his old age, but my father wouldn’t take the chance. He killed him the moment he extracted all the information he could.”
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>>4584764
You sneer in contempt. Of course, he did. The entire line was accursed with backstabbers and kinslayers. You wonder how far the taint went. Roose seemed in a mood for a history lesson, so you ask him. “Was he the first, your grandfather?”

“It appears that way. He did not tell my father about any previous generations having this ability. I have made some enquiries myself, with maester Uthor’s aid, but I’ve reached no conclusion. One theory is that he was a faceless man from Braavos, who took the place of the real Lord Bolton. It certainly makes sense, those assassins can change their appearance at will. Their height, weight, face, voice, everything. And they need the skin of the man they are impersonating, just like us.”

You spit at him at this, “Do not include me in your group of men who devour their own sons.”

Roose just laughs, “If you say so.” Then he continues, “Another theory is that after thousands of years of flaying, the Boltons divined the secrets of skinchanging from their experiments. That seems less likely to me. I’ve flayed hundreds of men in my lives, and received no new insights.”

You shudder at the way he easily dismissed ending hundreds of lives. He notices, and smirks at you.

“Lastly, it is possible that we descend from the line of the Night’s King. The 13th commander of the Night’s Watch. The legends say that he discovered a female Other beyond the wall, and made her his queen. He ruled for thirteen years performing human sacrifices and vile rituals. He was ultimately defeated by House Stark and the wildling King Beyond the Wall, but who is to say that he really died? I’ve ‘died’ at least half a dozen times in my 170 years, and here I stand.” He laughs once again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement, near the entrance to the Godswood. Roose is back to preparing his tools, murmuring in some strange tongue. Was it because he could not see in the dark like you, that he did not notice the commotion? You couldn’t hear anything at this distance, either. You could only pray to the Gods that whoever it was, they’d come to help you. You try to talk to Roose some more, distracting him and giving your potential saviour some more time. He seemed in a talkative mood anyway, perhaps thinking that you’d take all his secrets to the grave.

“How do you decide when to switch bodies?” You ask, and you do not even have to feign your interest. As horrible as this was, it still fascinated you, being able to leave one body for the next, living perpetually.
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>>4584767
“Whenever the body gets old.” He says simply, “The body does not stop aging with the change. It grows weaker too, when it briefly ‘dies’ during the change, and remains pale afterwards. I delay my sons’ marriages until later in life, because wives know their men intimately. They would know if I wore their husbands’ skins.” He pauses to consider something, then gives you a lecherous grin. “Do you think your wife will notice? She looks so distraught these days, in her condition. I’ll be sure to provide her the comfort she needs.”

His taunt works, and you yell obscenities at him until your voice grows hoarse. And then some more. The wind picks up suddenly, louder than ever. You shiver in the cold, wriggling as much as possible to generate some heat. You cannot feel the ends of your arms and legs anymore, and the numbness is advancing towards your core rapidly.

The commotion at the entrance has ended it seems, and you see a few figures advance towards you slowly. You have to divert Roose’s attention for a little longer, so you engage him again, this time having to shout to be heard over the wind.

“Why are you taking the risk, then? You know she’ll recognize that it’s not me.”

Roose takes a particularly sharp flaying knife and comes closer. The hilt of yellowed bone tells you that it’s one of Ramsay’s. A fitting end for you, you suppose.

“Because of you, Hal.” Roose blames you, “For all the crimes I’ve had you commit, the Lords still think you some innocent soul. More and more they look to you instead of me for guidance. Every time I have to make a hard decision, they sneak glances at you, as if you could convince me to change my mind. I can’t abide by it any longer, Hal. If I wait longer, they’ll kill me first and name you the Warden of the North.” He’s shouting in your face by the end, his spittle flying at you. A rare display of emotion for the lord who kills his own sons without breaking a sweat.

There is some truth to what he says, you think. While he was in the south fighting Robb Stark’s war, you were tasked with gathering fresh troops to throw out the invading Ironborn marauders. Your ‘father’ had petitioned King Robb to let you lead the effort to rally men from all over the North, liberating Northern castles from their occupiers. Moat Cailin, Deepwood Motte, Torrhen’s Square, and lastly Winterfell, all had been purged of the Iron Islanders.

Command came to you naturally, somehow. You were overly cautious in the beginning, remembering the time when you got all your friends killed, but your confidence grew as you notched victories. You had killed the fearsome Dagmar Cleftjaw in one-on-one combat, and captured Asha Greyjoy herself. You were legitimized as Hallis Bolton by King Robb for your triumph. The lords of the castles you had freed were overly grateful to you.
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>>4584768
So much so, that even when Roose betrayed the Northmen and sided with the Lannisters, they looked at you with sympathy, not hatred. As if you were a helpless pawn, mislead by your scheming father. That wasn’t too far from the truth, you think. You see the shadows approaching ever closer.

Roose has calmed down a bit, in the meanwhile, and takes a remorseful tone.

“You’ve helped me much in these past few years, Hal, more than I expected you to. Glover, Cerwyn and Tallhart, Stark loyalists all, would die to the last before bending the knee to me. But because of you, now they stand behind us. You’ve united the others with your wife’s help. I was sceptical at first, thinking that your marriage would enrage the Lords, but you’ve managed to bind them closer to you.” He lets out a hollow laugh then.

“I have to admit, I’m envious of you. Of your rapport with the Lords, your closeness with your wife. 170 years of life, and for the first time I’m outshone by my own son. I want it, Hal. I want it for myself. I want it all.” He says with manic energy, looking deranged. His eyes have widened, as if there’s a storm behind them.

“Yes, I’ll wear your skin and be the hero. Hallis Bolton, Warden of the North, with a pretty wife, and a strong son on the way. The Lords will love me once more, instead of plotting behind my back. Perhaps enough to break away from the Seven Kingdoms, then I will be King in the North. A Red King shall rise again Hal, after thousands of years!” Roose appears completely unhinged, with no grip on sanity. You fear for you life, and your vision narrows down to Roose screaming in your face, waving the flaying knife wildly.

He starts discarding his own clothes, revealing a pale hairless body. Then he turns the knife on himself, cutting through his flesh easily, removing his skin. What peeks from within petrifies you. A thing of horror, an abomination from your worst nightmares, looks back at you. A decayed skeleton with rotten flesh clinging to it, its eyes bottomless pits of darkness. Tendrils and tentacles of flesh reach out from the body, its teeth as sharp as razors.

You screech and wail, calling out to the Gods, to the guards, anyone, to save you from this monstrosity. You struggle and shake, trying to get free from your bindings, but only end up chafing your bound limbs raw. The creature pounces on you heedless, letting out blood-curdling screams.

“Give up, Hal! The more you struggle, the more it will hurt. Lie still, and I will spare-“

Whatever the creature wanted to say next, you shall never know, because at that moment a sword made of Valyrian Steel slices through its neck, beheading it in one powerful blow. The body collapses backwards, but the head falls at your feet, its unnaturally long tongue sticking out at you, the hollows of its eyes staring you down.
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>>4584770
You look up in shock to see a knight in full plate, a deep cobalt blue, with a head full of short straw-coloured hair. Your wife’s protector, Brienne of Tarth, stares back at you concernedly, and quickly uses the dagger at her hip to cut away your bindings.

“What? How..?” You’re still dazed as you rub your cold limbs to bring some warmth. Brienne steps aside, letting you see the person behind her. “Hal!” Sansa cries out as she rushes forward, and embraces you tightly, although her heavily pregnant belly prevents her from being as close as she wants.

“Sansa? You shouldn’t be out here in the cold, sweetling.” You say dumbly.

A big smile breaks through her tears, and she appears to be as lost for words as you. Instead, she crashes her lips upon yours, hot and moist, salty with the tears leaking through, expressing what she cannot say herself. You break apart after a long moment when Brienne coughs, reminding you that you were still naked. She wraps a heavy fur cloak around you, and you begin making your way back to the keep, Sansa buried into your side. Brienne walks ahead to give you some privacy, and looks out for any further mischief. You wrap your hand around Sansa’s and intertwine your fingers. No words need to be said as you walk slowly, mindful of your frozen legs.

Whatever happens next, you can deal with it later. Right now, you need to be in your bedchambers, surrounded by the warmth of your family, and more than a few blankets.

You do not spare a second glance for the fallen Warden of the North, the abomination who inflicted so much pain and suffering on you and countless others. The only thing on your mind right now is the feeling of Sansa’s thumb slowly rubbing circles on your palm, soothing you, as if to say, “It’s all going to be alright.”

-- FIN --
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>>4584764
>>4584767
>>4584768
>>4584770
>>4584771
KINO
My only real critique is the lack of choices/ decision-making we had for the epilogue but again I understand why (you wanted to keep this as a one-shot)
Not bad at all QM, the sansa thing at the end there felt a bit off but otherwise everything else was fine
>>
And that folks, is the end. I’ll thank you all for participating. I hope you had fun playing, I certainly had lots of fun writing it. One of my reasons for running this quest was to improve my writing, and compared to my earliest drafts, there is a considerable improvement already, if I say so myself.

My headcanon is that Roose asked Tywin for Sansa’s marriage to Hal as an additional payment for the Red Wedding. Their relationship began with little consent, much like Sansa’ marriage to Ramsay in the show, but they quickly warmed up to each other, falling in love. Hal is still a good guy at heart, after all. The morning after the epilogue ends, Hal will call his parents and Kyra back.

Ask me any lingering questions you have, any loose ends which I’ve not tied up, any spoilers. Give me some feedback, how did you like the end, what parts of the quest you think could have been done better, etc.

I have some more ideas for quests, both one-shots and full-length ones, but I’ll be taking a break for now. This month was relatively free for me, allowing me to run this quest, but I don’t imagine I’ll have this much free time in a while after January. If I do return, I’ll use the same name, and drop a post in /qtg/, so you’ll know it’s me.
>>
The quest is archived at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4560012/
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>>4584770
Why didn't he notice a person in full plate sneaking up like that?

And if he did, put a knife to Hal's throat, what would Brienne do?
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>>4584829
>Why didn't he notice a person in full plate sneaking up like that?
He's severely weakened when he sheds his skin during the 'change'. Also he was going slightly mad, plus there's a loud snowstorm going on. Roose and Hal are so focused on each other in that last moment that they didn't notice anything else.

>And if he did, put a knife to Hal's throat, what would Brienne do?
Attack the hand holding the knife from an angle, probably.
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>>4584780
I like ASOIAF quests with good writing in general and this one wasn't different in that regard.

Looking forward to a new, multi-chapter quest from you. Would it also stray from canon if needed?
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>>4584844
Maybe. Straying from canon in a long running quest might involve keeping track of all the butterfly effects and how they interact with each other. That sounds like a lot of work. The most likely candidate for my next quest right now is another one-shot, with a Braavosi captain out on the sea.
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>>4584780
Good one shot, could use something low stakes and with fewer major book characters next time.
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>>4584780
Exquisite fucking ending (apart from Sansa out of the blue - narratively it makes sense that they'd have married but the show/Sophie Turner killed that character for me and our boy Hal deserves better).

I loved Roose as a skinwalker. I don't know if that's some theory in the fandom but it links perfectly with the family's history and Roose's physical description in the books (also allowed you to write a better final encounter than the purely mental conflict if he'd simply tried to warg into us). There's something very compelling about the idea of these background characters in ASOIAF having their own fully developed stories that are just missed in the novels' focus on the Starks, Lannisters, et al. If you refocused the narrative you could write a series on Bolton skinwalkers or the Brotherhood Without Banners while the War of 5 Kings becomes the background of the setting.
Also the imagery of the Roose flaying away his own skin to reveal his rotting 170 year old original body concealed within is absolute kino.

Few questions
>What would have happened if we'd followed Hother or visited Torrhen at the very start?
>What would have happened if we'd returned to the village or attacked the mine instead of blundering into Ramsay's trap? If we'd let Ramsay live or dragged Ramsay to Dreadfort as a brigand? If we'd returned to the village instead of pursuing Ben Bones? If we'd managed to kill Ben and Sour Alynn?
>Roose says he dangled the opportunity for escape in front of us, did he have people in place in case we'd attacked the maester or attempted to flee?
>When you say you rolled for the ending, what were you rolling for? Just to see whether Brienne made it in time? How else could the epilogue have played out?
>What's up with the creepy face in the heart tree and the 1000 voices?
>...you can see unusually well in the dark, for some reason the walls are covered in shadows to your sight, and that irks you greatly. That has never happened before... What's blocking our sight?
>Is there any way we could have saved the butcher's girl?
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>>4585412
Yeah including Sansa at the end did come out of the blue, but I wanted to show that the story went on and the characters lived their lives even without the players' intervention. Perhaps it would have played better with someone else like Alys Karstark or a Manderly? Anyway, I'm so glad you liked the rest.

>What would have happened if we'd followed Hother or visited Torrhen at the very start?
If you had followed Hother (Sour Alyn), you would have noticed him spying on the village, asking about your family, etc. If you followed him further, he would be meeting up with the others at the mine. If you had gone with Torrhen to the butcher, you would have met Beth, and with a good Charm roll might have got to develop a relationship with her.

In both cases the encounter of Kyra and Gareth with the Bastard's Boys would still have happened, and this would become more of a murder investigation/ rescue attempt.

>What would have happened if we'd returned to the village
There would be more of a defensive battle with most of the enemies using bows and picking off anyone who left the village, making night attacks, etc. If you survived long enough, Roose would hear about it and force them back to the Dreadfort.

> or attacked the mine instead of blundering into Ramsay's trap?
You would have a chance to spring a trap for them instead. Your Night Eyes benefit would come into play in the darkness of the mine. Suppose you managed to sabotage the torches, the enemies would get a -2D on every attack. But the Stealth rolls would be difficult if you took the others in.

>If we'd returned to the village instead of pursuing Ben Bones? If we'd managed to kill Ben and Sour Alynn?
For both you would get a chance to stay at the village, flee to Essos or Winterfell. If you stayed at home, Roose would have come calling.

>Roose says he dangled the opportunity for escape in front of us, did he have people in place in case we'd attacked the maester or attempted to flee?
He still had your family in the dungeons as an insurance. Other than that, the guards he left had high Awareness and Fighting. It would be difficult to sneak past them or fight through them, but not impossible.

>What's up with the creepy face in the heart tree and the 1000 voices?
It's the skinwalker inside you. It's sort of a dark passenger. The maester says in a throwaway line that your genes are mutating. The skinwalker genes are actually becoming more prominent. The one inside you sensed that Roose was planning to wear your skin, and tried to warn you. In the initial draft the last paragraph was supposed to be that you found Roose's journal detailing his history and the procedure to change your skin. But you did not burn it, because the voice in your head did not want you to. It was supposed to be an open question whether Hal eventually succumbed to the monster inside him and the lure of eternal life. But I didn't like that much, so I deleted it and ended on a happier note.
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>>4585478
Cool. Thanks for all that, and for running.
Looking forward to your next quest whenever that might be.
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>>4586346
Hey I forgot to answer a couple questions, sorry about that. I intended to come back and do it but it somehow slipped my mind.

>When you say you rolled for the ending, what were you rolling for? Just to see whether Brienne made it in time? How else could the epilogue have played out?
Lots of things. Your own Agility (Contortionist) skill to see if you could escape on your own. If you had succeeded you would have gotten free by yourself. Also rolled for Sansa's Awareness to notice Hal is gone, Logic to figure out where he would be taken. A failure meant a further delay. Then the fight at the entrance. Roose's Awareness against Brienne's Stealth. That one was a bit tricky but the snowstorm and his weakness gave a bonus to Brienne.

It was possible that by the time Sansa noticed that something was wrong, Roose would have finished his ritual and greeted her in your skin. Would have been extremely creepy, with the last scene being Roose eyeing Sansa's baby bump appreciatively. I'm glad I didn't have to write that.

>...you can see unusually well in the dark, for some reason the walls are covered in shadows to your sight, and that irks you greatly. That has never happened before... What's blocking our sight?
The wall is lined with the skins of the sons of House Bolton, hung there after the current Lord changes his body and wears a new skin. He keeps the previous skins as momentos.

>Is there any way we could have saved the butcher's girl?
If you had gone back to the village at any point. If you returned to the village like Owen said, Ramsay would try to abduct Beth at night to goad you into attacking, so you would have had to protect her then. After you had killed Ramsay, if you returned to the village, you could talk Walton down into just taking you and your family instead of burning the entire village. Or you could have escaped to Winterfell or Essos, in which case you would never know what happened.
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Nice job, m8. Shame you had to deal with that sperg-out near the end by that one anon though.
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>>4586678
Well it wouldn't be a proper ASOIAF quest without at least one sperg-out, would it? Thank you.
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Something has been bothering me, when did Hal learn how to read?
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>>4587037
In the month after he said his goodbyes to his family.
>By the time Lord Bolton introduces you to the court as his ‘son’, you already have a firm grasp on your letters, and know how to ride a horse skilfully.

Did something sneak in earlier? Must have been a mistake. If it's about the good vocabulary and speech, that was intentional on my part. I was so annoyed by writing the garbled speech of the smallfolk in the opening, I don't know how I could have handled 40k words of that, and I felt that it would put off readers too. Sorry if it broke your immersion a bit.
>>
Good job! It was a fun quest to read!



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