Year 487 Summer Campaign

[Geoffrey]

From the back, Rodric fought hard not to scoff at the Centurion.  Letting the saxon dogs run so they could regroup and continue to harass your own country side...

Cedwyn's question caused him to raise an eyebrow but he said nothing.  Given what they'd seen of the Praetor, was there any doubt that there would be no quarter?

[Valka]

Wordlessly Valka nudged her horse towards the sick tent upon the centurion’s announcement and left the men to deal with him. After securing Arne in an open area she knelt next to him and took a knife to her palm before grasping the Freya Idol necklace around her neck that Arne had carved for her. Gently she placed the bloody token of his affection around his own neck and prayed in quiet whispers with her hands above him.

The moans and sounds of the sick and wounded in the tent drowned out her whispers and Arne’s shallow breathing. As badly wounded as he was the Romans were all far worse. She had no doubt that some of the physicians were skilled but would they even glance at her husband when she was gone? If she herself fell tomorrow would he wither away and die here? Would a soldier kill him or a Saxon?

The gods would not look favorably upon the fledgling Northmen band if she stayed behind tomorrow. Odin had been with her today; Valka could not deny the battle at dawn, not when the gods walked amongst them here. If not Arne’s sword, then her spear must be there.

Valka looked down to Arne's helpless form, her brows deeply furrowed. She bent down and placed her lips upon his, tears filling her eyes. The shield maiden couldn't leave him with the Romans but nor could she stay. She spoke to Arne in their native tongue as if it were the last she might ever see him.

“If I do not return tomorrow, lead our people to prosperity,” she whispered, gripping his hand and nearly choking back tears. “Raise our daughter well. Make me proud. And piss on the Praetor and all these foreign Kings. I claim these Saxons for you,” she thumped her chest with a fist, “and by Freya’s will I will see you in Valhalla, my beloved. ”

“But you will make it home first.”

Her crimson stained hand snatched up the greatspear at her side, the blade still covered with Arne’s dried blood.

“I must go now to make sure of it. Freya, witness me…”

[GM Craig]

What's everyone else doing tonight? Valka is kneeling beside Arne in the sick tent.

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn will be cleaning and checking his gear, making sure Peredur is well taken care of and restingfor the battle. Then checking in on Arne and Valka.

[Geoffrey]

And here I thought Cedwyn would confine Rodric to the tent. Guess he's going for another walk.

[GM Craig]

Can I get an Awareness or Recognize roll from Rodric please? Your choice.

[Geoffrey]

OOC: Rodric awareness roll result 4 vs skill 13, success.

[Valka]

Valka orate (gimme)
1d20 <= 15 v 15 ... success

[Arne]

(OOC:  I think the Orate is a critical success if your roll matches what you need.)

[GM Craig]

Rodric takes a leisurely stroll through the camp. The place is busy, clearly preparing for battle. In the chaos, it is actually fairly easy to move around.

During your walk, you spot Valka. She is... stalking? though the camp with obvious purpose, and you follow her discretely. You comes to a an area where you see a small number of Saxon prisoners are being held, guarded by a couple of guards and a knight. Valka stalks right up to the prisoners, sizes them up, and picks a rather burly looking fellow. She hauls him to his feet with ferocity, and starts to haul him away. The knight calls out to her with a "Hey!"

Valka rounds on the knight, and just glares at him. "I am taking this prisoner." There is a challenge in her voice. The knight swallows, considering his next words carefully. After a moment, he waves her away. He says, apologetically, "Praetor was going to kill them anyway." He then turns away, apparently relieved when Valka stalks off, driving the prisoner before her.

[Geoffrey]

Rodric wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know but he followed the northern woman, as descretly as he could. 

[GM Craig]

Valka drives the prisoner out of camp, down to the riverbank.

Do you continue following?

[Geoffrey]

Yes

[Artaigne]

Artaigne moved to Cedwyn's side as he was working on his gear.  "As your 'aide' sir, I feel it would be my place to ask if we should take this coin we found and see what kit we might acquire to better outfit us for the execution of battle on the morrow.  I do not know what we may find or be able to afford in this den of snakes, but it seems prudent to at least venture forth, with your permission.'

[GM Craig]

While Sir Cedwyn and Artaign contemplate trying to use denarii to try and pry some war gear out of the Malhaut army, Rodric follows Valka and her prisoner to a small hill overlooking the river. Once there, Valka hauls back her spear and whacks the unsuspecting Saxon in the back of the head with the butt. He collapses like a sack of grain. She then pulls a length of rope from her satchel, whips the end over a branch of the tree, and affixes the other end to the Saxon's feet, and secures his arms behind his back. She then starts to haul on the rope, lifting the Saxon into the air, feet first.

[Any actions from Rodric?]

[Also, not trying to interrupt Sir Cedwyn and Artaigne - keep exploring that if you wish.]