:Sohan will seek cover, prepare her bow, and fire at any enemy within targeting range:
Hrothgar will keep an eye out for any threats to Cyrus’s life and deal with them with whichever of axe or crossbow appears most expedient, but otherwise Cyrus is welcome to do his own killing. If Cyrus mounts up at any time, so will Hrothgar.
Naimar will follow Sohan’s lead and take cover and prepare his bow.
According to this post, he does. She says she fears him because he knows she ran.
According to her she does. She told us he’s going to want to know why she ran, and why she got married to him in the first place. Ironhall already knows his marriage is a sham.
I think it better if we turn Wilfred into Ironhall as a prisoner. It gives him something to bargain with. After all, Shedlund is clearly moving against him, he’ll want all the assets he can get. Plus, the idea of murdering in cold blood someone who poses no real danger to us is something I don’t really like. It sends a bad message. Shedlund will know we did it, and the Faramond name risks being sullied as untrustworthy murderers.
I’m not going to get OOCly involved in a discussion as to how much of the truth Ironhall knows. You all can feel free, though.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Faramond. M’lady’s entire plan rests on using his allowing her to be kidnapped as grounds for war.”
“Most wise, m’lord.” Offers Choke.
Cutter disagrees. “Honor before reason, eh? Delacroix is the enemy. He’d feed you your balls without a second thought if he was given the word.” He appeals to the others in the party. “He’s dangerous. As soon as we tell Ironhall the truth about Shedlund’s plan he’ll tell him it was us that delivered Mildred into her hands- even knowin’ the truth about her kidnappin’. I thought you bluebloods were supposed to be masters of intrigue.”
“You keep your mouth shut!” Roars Choke.
“Just because it’s a Faramond at the other end of your leash don’ make you a noble.”
Baldur’s usual carefree demeanor turns into a frown. “Ah Cutter, dear Cutter, spoken like a true thug. First of all, who knows what we are going to tell Ironhall, or whose side we shall take, if anyones. Last I remember, we were denied entry to his keep and practically expelled from his lands, although after the incident I can’t entirely say I blame him. And on top of that, as you so sarcastically put, there is the matter of…” No sooner has Baldur said that when Týr pokes his head out of Baldur’s coat. He scampers onto Baldur’s head to get a look at his surroundings.
“It appears brother has something to say.” Baldur looks as if he is concentrating intensely for what feels like a very awkward 30 seconds, the silence only interrupted by almost inaudible ‘mmms’ and ‘yesses’ from Baldur. During this time, Týr turns a few circles on Baldur’s head and starts pawing his hair.
“Oh my… I am afraid brother is very angry. I have not seen him this way for quite some time. He bemoans how far the noble Faramond name has fallen, that now we would consider petty murder of a fellow noble. He says that while we have lost our lands and our keep is in shambles, we still have the Faramond name, and you all shame it with your conniving ways and casual bloodlust. Furthermore, Sir Delacroix has done nothing to offend our honor, and his house has treated us with nothing less than hospitality.” While Baldur says this, Týr runs to a nearby tree on the edge of the forest and looks down upon the party.
Baldur turns to Cyrus and says flatly, “To Cyrus, brother says that your expertise in warfare has sharpened your sword but not your wit. Wilfred may prove useful” Baldur then turns to Týr and says in a much happier voice, “Yes brother, patience is a virtue.”
Next he turns to Cutter and says again sternly “No harm shall come to Sir Delacroix, is that understood? If somehow harm befalls him, brother and I will be…” He pauses briefly, “terribly dissapointed.”
“What?” Baldur turns sharply towards the branch Týr is on. Turning back towards Cutter, "Brother says in this matter he shall punish any transgressors personally.
Turning back towards the trees, “Now brother, is that really necessary? Yes, I know you are still more than capable…But…But…OK fine, have it your way. Show them your fury!”
Baldur makes a series of hand gestures and Týr runs towards him, stopping a foot away. He faces Cyrus and Cutter, rises on his hind legs, and begins clawing the air vigorously. After four seconds of this, Baldur interjects. Baldur’s face is sad and stern. “Brother, stop, that is enough.” Týr stops and scampers back onto Baldur’s shoulder.
“I am afraid all this excitement has tired brother terribly. We need some time alone.” Having said that, Baldur walks into the woods. He takes a seat on a decaying tree trunk perhaps twenty meters in. Whether he is visible or not depends on the density of the forest. He stays within earshot of any large noise.
Every post with Tyr i end up laughing my ass off. Autolycus, keep up the hilarious posts.
Cutter is disgusted. “Followin’ this loon is gonna get the lot of you killed.” He prepares food for himself during the wait, an occasional dark glance thrown Baldur’s way.
Wilfred and his guards return shortly thereafter and the party breaks camp.
I’ll be posting more later tonight.
Same. 
I’d considered channeling some of Mugatu’s speech from Zoolander.
“Sharpened my sword, indeed,” Cyrus mutters no nobody in particular.
*The party breaks camp and continues snaking its way south through the Greatwood. Eventually they arrive at the East Ironway, a well-trodden dirt road wide enough for two wagons to pass one another without leaving the trail. As the party moves west they encounter more and more fellow travelers. Most are pairs or trios of men or an occasional merchant caravan. Before long the forest thins, thought not clearing completely, giving way to small patches of farmland, all in disuse for the winter. In the distance the Greyhorn Mountain looms like a giant, dominating the horizon. Storm clouds gather around the peak ominously. On the fourth evening after having left Little Shedlund the party arrives at Ironhall. The small town is surrounded by a simple stone barrier as tall as a man. Here and there along the wall is the glow of hanging lanterns. The party passes through an entrance into the town, their number and armament prompting a runner sent scurrying ahead to the keep. A small number of mailed guards watch them pass but don’t move to intercept.
Castle Ironhall is an exceedingly simple yet imposing stone structure half-buried into the face of the mountain. It stares down at the town like a grim, emotionless face. The grey and blue banners of Ironhall flutter weakly from a pair of towers rising from the keep’s heart.
The town itself is smaller than Little Shedlund but its buildings are of superior construction. Several of them are made of stone- a rarity among peasant dwellings and businesses in Tiribunus. Most businesses are beginning to close at this hour but if there’s anything in particular the party needed it could likely find an obliging merchant or craftsman. The largest of the local inn-taverns is a squat, two-story log structure with accompanying stable called the Pissing Witch. It’s likely the Faramonds and their band could use their noble status to acquire free (or at least discounted) lodging and stabling for the night if they so wished.*
It’s up to you guys to decide what you’d like to do. You can either head in for the evening to discuss your plan of attack for the morning or you can make for Castle Ironhall immediately. Either way, I need to know what you’re going to say in order to gain entrance to the castle and an audience with Lord Ironhall (“We wish to speak with him!” won’t work - it didn’t work last time), whether you’re going to try to delay bringing in Wilfred, etc. Feel free to be as detailed regarding your introductions as you’d like. This will likely be your last chance to talk privately among yourselves before you’re in the presence of Ironhall.
I was in the woods. Am I to assume that somebody came and got me or that I heard everyone leave and ran to catch up? Half-serious question.
Also, does it matter what our last ‘misadventure’ was in Ironhall, as you put it?
No.
Half-serious answer.
But really, you all can assume that you camped at the pond for as long or as little a time as you’d please. One of the others would have been sent to let Baldur know that it was time to get a move on before they actually left.
You guys can feel free to determine on your own what your plan was when you went to Ironhall the first time. Maybe you going to propose an alliance, maybe you were looking for handouts, but regardless you were turned away at the door. Now you presumably have an actual reason for being here and you’ll be able to get him to open up- though the precise wording is up to you guys.
"Why don’t we head to the tavern and unwind for a bit? We’ve been through a lot lately. "
*The Pissing Witch is a long log structure in northern Ironhall in the shadow of the keep itself. The muddy ground around it is littered with drunks and loiterers. The roar of the tavern is clearly audible from outside but everything goes quiet when the party enters. The main room is packed with perhaps three dozen burly peasant men and a handful of serving girls and whores. Choke is the first through the door. After briefly appraising the silenced patrons he heads for the bar to make lodging and stabling arrangements with its keeper. Next comes Cutter, who stands by the door and lets the others pass through. Choke drops a pair of copper pieces (taken from the corpses of the men the party killed earlier) on the counter for the owner as an afterthought. The owner calls for a servant boy who he sends out to see to the group’s horses. When all’s said and done two large, connecting rooms upstairs have been offered and the group heads up to inspect them. Though not luxurious by any definition the rooms are a definite improvement over the cold and muddy ground that’s sufficed thus far.
Food and drink are to be brought up to the rooms shortly and the owner assures everyone that their horses will be likewise cared for. It’s currently early evening and the party has the rest of the night to make their plans.*
All the characters are free to act on their own during this period. Feel free to interact with the patrons downstairs, just tell me what your characters ask or say. You may include or exclude Wilfred and his men at your discretion.
Cyrus, to Wilfred - “I am not a subtle man, as I suppose you’ve already realized. But I’m not so dense that I don’t know why you’re here. I recognize a spy when I see one. Just remember, the ones you’re watching, are watching you too. I don’t care about anything except my family, and if you or Mildred or the Baroness herself try to sabotage us, you’ll have to answer to me. Faramond has nothing left to lose. Remember that.”
“Well I shall head down to the tavern and see what the gossip around town is. Just fill me in on the plan whenever I get back.” Naimar said to the group as he headed out the door.
Well, one of us is misinformed. Just be prepared for anything. Ironhall may not be very accomodating to us if he knows his wife wasn’t actually kidnapped.
Exactly, Ironhall doesn’t need to know when we found out that Mildred wasn’t kidnapped. Saying we escorted her back to her sister after saving her because she requested it is not something that would be out of reason to do. She is of higher station than us, after all, and it’s not as if Ironhall was forthcoming as to his situation.
And while he doesn’t have much reason to believe us, he’ll have even less reason to believe his enemy.
I think the important thing, though, is to meet with him without Wilfred and his men. However, if we just flat out do this, chances are Wilfred will leave and report back. We need to somehow alert Ironhall that he needs to keep Wilfred here at least until we have spoken to him…
I think we need to send him a letter. We do this discretely without Wilfred’s notice. We request an escort to his castle and explain why we need one. We impose upon him that Wilfred is not to be trusted and should be kept at the inn at least until we have talked with him.
How’s something along these lines sound?
*Lord Ironhall,
I am Henry Faramond, youngest son of the late Godrick Faramond, Lord of Hammerfall. By older brother Baldur and I request to meet with you on an matter of utmost urgency. It involves the kidnapping of your wife, the Lady Mildred. I have some information on that business that you will find most interesting. I dare not say more until we meet, for fear of this letter falling into the wrong hands, but you will not regret hearing what I have to say. We would like to meet with you tomorrow morning.
However, there is one little problem. We travelled here with Sir Wilfred Delacroix, a noble in the service of Lady Shedlund. We don’t trust him, and neither should you. It is important that he not be allowed to leave the town until after our meeting. If you want, we will accept an armed escort to your castle tomorow morning from our current lodgings at The Pissing Witch. At the same time, you should post some guards to insure Wilfred doesn’t leave town.
The sooner we meet, the better it will be, for reasons that will become apparent. I propose an hour after sunrise. We will be downstairs in the tavern having breakfast.
Henry Faramond*
1.) Naimar learns that since Mildred’s disappearance people have been vanishing into the woods around Ironhall. There are whispers that the place has been cursed.
2.) Naimar learns that there is a man in a corner selling blacksap[sup]1[/sup].
1 - Blacksap is a poison extracted from an uncommon flower in the Northern Provinces. Blacksap exposure is potentially fatal and is known for inducing bloody vomiting.
“That sounds like a splendid plan young-brother. Now, I am in the mood for a drink.” Baldur goes downstairs towards the bar area. Before he reaches there, he looks downward towards his shirt pocket and says “Now brother, please stay hidden. If these rabble see us here together, they might think we’re crazy.”
He then proceeds to the bar and asks the barkeep for two of his finer ales.