Wolves Upon the Coast - Session #11
Gather around the fire, my friends, and lend your ear once more as I tell you the latest tale of my brothers and I as we set sail upon the Brimuxi once more. This will be my final tale, for now, in the world of Luke Gearing’s Wolves Upon the Coast continue! If you want to catch up on our last session check out the recap. And as always, our system of choice is T. Thomas Giant’s As Above, So Below, an OSR hack inspired primarily by Cairn and Into the Odd.
Due to a change in my personal schedule I’ll be stepping away from this campaign indefinitely, so this will be my last session report - barring any random weeks I’m able to pop back in with this group. It’s been a lot of fun writing these recaps and interacting with folks. Hopefully I’ll have a similar creative outlet pop into my lap soon so I can continue flexing those creative muscles.
The Crew of the Brimuxi
Gripard the Near-Sighted - Hails from Faroe. He willingly signed on to Snori the Craven’s crew to avoid starvation. Understands some arcane secrets.
Gull the Wanderer - Hails from Ruislip, in the northwest. He is of humble stock, but his kin did not appreciate his talents. Their parting of ways was mutual, but it wasn’t long before he was captured by the Norse.
Haoelkbaeolker “Bulkor” the Foul - Hails from Littitie. Also called Bulkor, he was banished by his kin for being a general nuisance and ass. It is a wonder we haven’t killed him ourselves.
Lurg Who-Laughs-At-Death - Hails from Littitie, a faraway and distant land. A proud, barbarian warrior - he is slow to trust others, including members of the Brimuxi’s crew. He has earned a new title thanks to his courage in the face of a horde of reanimated skeleton warriors.
Pádraig the Skald - Hails from Mar, a coastal land to the east of the North Sea. He was betrayed by his mentor, who grew jealous of Pádraig's growing popularity amongst their kin, and sold to the Norse as a galley slave.
The Eleventh Voyage
We began our day discussing the potential job offered to us by Nesimi, the captain of the guard for Sicara, the fishing village we stumbled upon. Thieves from the nearby village of Meza had stolen goats from Nesimi’s people and she desired justice or vengeance or somesuch thing. The details were of little import to me - I wanted the glory of battle, and of course the glint of plundered wealth. Nesimi promised us a reward of silver in addition to whatever goods we stole from the Mezans, but she had two rules: no killing and no unnecessary theft. She wanted the people of Meza to flee their villages and never return, but at the end of the day they were her countrymen… plus too much violence and looting and the local lords would need to respond.
Gull the Wanderer agreed to these terms. Lurg and I were less enthusiastic about the restrictions, but the rush of battle would hopefully be reward enough. Before we set out I cast my rune stones, beseeching the wisdom of Rúna, the Crone, Vegir, the Son, and Daudi, the Faceless. The gods spoke to me, promising wealth, prosperity, and potentially a place to call home. They said that our crew merely needed to stay true to ourselves and we were emerge from this raid victorious and laden with gold and lucre.
We traveled west and north, making our way to Meza as the sun crawled across the sky. We arrived near Meza and found it to be a village of stone buildings - upsettingly resistant to flame. Ermelandus of the Christian Court of King Roderik recommended that we simply sneak into the village and steal the goats, but I felt that his plan lacked a certain level of showmanship. We debated back and forth as to our path forward, yearning for tools and skills we didn’t have at our disposal. There was even talk about working for the people of Meza and attacking Sicara, but this was quickly shot down. Finally Gripard the Near-Sighted recommended that we sneak in under cover of night, just after the moon past its zenith, and on the way out I would use my magic tooth to summon a fogbank to cover our tracks.
We watched the town for the rest of the day in an attempt to get a sense of the village’s size. It became clear that Meza was a fair-sized settlement and that we would not be able to strongarm our way through this job. Finesse and cunning would carry us this night. As my companions prepared to steal this town’s goats I stalked through the streets in search of any guards or watchmen. My hunt proved fortuitous and soon I found myself face-to-face with one of the sentries. Thinking quickly I charged and hurled my spear butt first, striking the guard in the temple and dropping him immediately. The Faceless One was with me! I bound and gagged the man, stole his strange bronze sickle, and continued my search.
Meanwhile my companions managed to wrangle several goats, stringing them together until they had ten of the annoying creatures tied to one another. Confident that Nesimi would be satisfied we decided to retreat from the village, making our way back toward the outcropping of rocks wherein we had initially hatched our plans. Just as we thought that we were home free Daudi saw fit to change our fortune from good to ill and placed a sentry along our path. They shouted something in Noose, to which Gripard replied with the very same word (he later told us he accused the guard of being a thief) before giving me the order to unleash my foggy breath. I complied, filling the air with a thick fog that coalesced, occasionally taking on the shapes of faces and reaching hands (I must confess it also stank of my own breath, which is not pleasant on the kindest of mornings).
We stumbled through the sudden darkness, making our way north to the neighboring woods so as to lose any potential pursuit. The sounds of breaking twigs and branches suddenly filled the air and within seconds we found ourselves bumbling into a warty, green-skinned creature the shape and size of a human child. I spotted a similarly-sized shadow, but it quickly melted into the sylvan darkness. The one we could see tried to flee, but Gull and I stepped forward and attacked. No goblin would escape me! The goblin and Gull exchanged blows once more before my companion smote its ruin beneath the trees.
With the goblin dead and its companion fleeing deeper into the woods we continued our journey, returning east back to Sicara. We returned to the road as the sun began to peek over the horizon. The guards greeted us with unhappy shouts as we closed the distance, goats in tow. As before we were made to wait along the coast until Nesimi was summoned to meet with us. She gave us the chorded silver necklaces and bracelets and warned us that we shouldn’t try to sell these goats to nearby villagers, nor would she buy them herself. It mattered little, as Gull had plans on using these creatures as bait for the Yisharu. We gathered some new information about the foul monster, namely that when engorged on blood it would become fat and lazy - easy pickings for us to pepper with arrows and strike with blades.
Our oarsmen loaded the goats onto the Brimuxi and we set sail, our ship cutting through the waves with great haste!
But alas, dear friends. Night falls and I fear that I must continue on my journey through these lands. Perhaps we shall see one another again and I can continue my tale. Until then, keep your blade sharp and may the Gods favor you!
