Session 1: Fools before the Tower (Ending Jan 12)

Shadow and the Ancient Forest Wardens had watched the group's approach in complete silence, their strange fur concealing them between the trees and in the underbrush. Shadow's dominant hadn't let it out of sight since their conversation; now, Shadow is lying politely next to where the larger wolf sits. Shadow glances up at Autumn's First Hunt and then averts its eyes respectfully. It stands to go alert Taft of their presence, but the dominant wolf's lip instantly curls, flashing its huge, white teeth at Shadow. The gesture is not a threat, but a clear reminder: Do not go to the humans. We hunt only our ancestral foe, that which threatens all.

Shadow flops down again, rests its head on its paws, and sighs dejectedly. It has little idea of what the humans' plan is and how to help, but it is glad to be nearby at least.

Taft spends the day carefully preparing the ambush site. Not everything goes perfectly - some people stumble in the mud, and they do their best to cover excess footprints. They cut blinds in the forest for the spearmen and warriors to hide behind. The blinds work well, but Taft is less confident with the firelanes they've cut through the reeds. In order to keep it looking natural, he and the archers had to leave up a fair number of reeds. It forces them to hide closer to the trail than he'd like.

Vasil walks through the streets of Kallbacken toward Taft's house. It is eerily quiet - not a true quiet, but the quiet of a man holding his breath. The animals still snuffle in their pens, and the birds chirp in the trees - though even these seem muted. The wind still blows through the Singing Stones. What is missing is the sound of people. There is no chatter, barter or work. No creak of a wooden cart, nor hammer on nail. There are no shrill cries of playing children. Those who remain in the village - the young, the elderly, the infirmed, they make themselves small. Hiding behind the windows of their homes, bracing for the oncoming storm.

Reaching Taft's home, he finds it empty. Vasil curses. He is late.

As he walks towards the planned ambush site, Vasil's stomach reminds him I'm fucking hungry!
He pauses, sighs, and turns. Vasil lets himself into Tarin the Butcher's shop, and helps himself to some cured meat. He eats quickly, and without pleasure as he walks. If I am alive when this is over, I will sharpen Tarin's knives in thanks for the stolen meat.

Kallbacken is not a large village, so Vasil arrives at the gate quickly, though he takes the long route in order to avoid the banner. It is not long before he approaches the ambush site. He has stashed the last of the meat in the pocket of his apron. Seeing Taft, Vasil approaches...

As the afternoon wears on, Taft is distracted by a possibility that had not initially occurred to him:

What if rear members of the Tower group escape, and run back towards the Ridge, and tells others of the ambush?

If this happens, the ambush might do more harm than good, and cause a rapid response against Kallbacken.

He silently curses himself for not thinking about this earlier. Humans were not like deer, which could be tracked for days through the bush after they were ambushed. Here, he had to think that The Tower might have lines of communication in place.

They had to be cut off.

After everyones' orders have been given, Taft returns to his position in the marsh, at the Easternmost edge of the archers. Taft is positioned to see the Tower first, and to have sight of the last of them. But its not enough. He needs to be in position to block the trail.

He nudges his old friend Bhon, who is positioned near him.

"Old friend. There is one more thing. I am cursing myself for not thinking of this: I do not think we can let anyone run back to the Ridge. I am going to sneak further Eastward, and closer to the trail. I will hunt down any stragglers, or any who will retreat. Will you come with me?"

As Vasil makes it to the gathered group of hunters, it’s plain to his eyes that there are no wolves here. Even his newfound friend "Shadow" is nowhere to be seen. Gripping his spear, not just weighted well in his hand, but also beautifully and artfully made, a sort of rustic ornatesness, he listens to the plan.Taft and Bohn make their way slowly across the solitary traverseable path through the muddy bog. The two of them reach an ambushable position on the other side, content to focus their fire on those attempting to escape. Crossing the bog, they spot the shapes of gigantic creatures hidden beside and inside it; the wolves need make no blinds to find themselves almost invisible, their fur being a natural camouflage.

Autumn’s First Howl has organised the wolves into a line parallel to the path the others will take. Quite unlike how the pack normally works, it is not beginning with a Howl and a Chase, instead content to co-opt the human tactics, so long as it aids the pack’s goals. Autumn’s First Howl puts Winter’s Third Bite in the location closest to the hunters, and puts itself on the far side. The net is ready.

Vasil fast realises he is of little help when it comes to setting up the ambush, and so quickly sets to improving and reenforcing the blinds constructed by the village, using his knowledge of mending and carpentry to do so. He keeps his spear within arm's reach at all times...

He wishes he'd paid more attention to the training the caravan guard had received, lamenting his lack of ambush tactics. The drills played around the background of his memories, but all he could see were the broken wheels and busted armour that had filled his days with the company.

Eirikr leads a small platoon of villagers to the forest where the ambush will be taking place. He grips his axe in his right hand, his body trembling with fear. He looks at Freyr for a moment, squeezing his hand tightly. Hopefully, he or Taft didn't die today. Hopefully their losses would not be in vain.

Bohn immediately halts at the sight of the huge wolves, but Taft presses close to him and whispers,

"There is nothing to fear. This is a good sign. The Pack has decided to ally with us, for now."

Taft feels elated with relief. The presence of the Pack is a sign that his instincts were correct. He feels aligned with the land once again, after a long straining day.

He takes a deep breath crouches at the edge of the Pack, maintaining a respectful distance.

Winter's Third Bite catches his eye for a moment. There is a recognition, and a camaraderie, between them.

Taft breathes slowly.

We are all hunters, here. There is nothing to do, but listen. We will act and speak as we were meant to. We will know when the time is right.

He looks up to the grey sky. Feels the cool breeze. Nods silently to Bohn, who lies beside him. Checks his weapons, and waits.

Silent as the wolves.

The pack moves as one, stalking unseen through the trees like the shadows of the Taft's hunters. Autumn's First Hunt lifts her nose and sniffs the air before her body tenses and lowers, ready to leap into action. The pack mirrors their dominant; they can all smell the enemy nearby. Yet, even as they tense, Autumn's First Hunt looks from side to side at them all, warning them with her teeth: no action until an ancestral enemy appears.

Shadow feels a bit bored with its leader's insistence on waiting, but it stays still in the appropriate position, ready to fight. It feels eyes on it and glances up, only to find its gaze locked with Taft's. A slight smile touches the man's lips, and Shadow twitches an ear and cocks its head in response.

Then, the wolf vanishes back into the overgrowth, to where it will be best hidden and in a vantage point to surprise any enemies it might be allowed to attack.

The stomping sound of people trekking through the forest, out of step. It's clear that they're making an attempt to be silent, but you all hear them before you see them. Twelve figures, each adorned in the same armour, the thick jackets, walk purposefully. You spot two of them first, carrying swords, with unstrung bows across their backs, who come up to the bog and turn back, waiting to bring the others to safety. These scouts, and the leader who stands in the middle of the group, Taft is close enough to recognise as the three who entered Kallbacken. The other nine Interlopers carry spears; these they hold confidently, even as they start to cross the "bridge" over the bog.

As the Interlopers start passing the bridge, the forest around them erupts; arrows, and a stray cheer, start flying from the Kallbacken side. The soldiers, despite their armour, panic; they all seem to be looking at their leader for support. She is looking around, perhaps in shock, perhaps for an opening.

A howl comes up from the wolves, they seem to be fixated on something stood on the mud itself, as they circle around to a spot where it seems nothing stands; they are out of range of the spears, and seem to be ignoring the humans.You can smell the air thicken as the metallic scent of the warriors come, but you also notice the tang of the spiritual. As the arrows begin flying, the pack have already pinpointed two spirits, which smell of stone and wailing to you. The pack Howls for the Ancestral Jaw, in unison, and circles the two spirits, which are not affected by mud, and so walked alongside the bridge.

Taft glances at the wolves to note the location of Shadow, then looks away. He is aware that something odd is happening around the wolf pack, but this is not the time to be distracted.

He draws his bow and carefully aims at the back of the leader of the Interlopers. He aims between the shoulder blades, just to the side, where the heart would be.

He holds his breath for a moment, offers a silent blessing to the wind and the land, and fires as he exhales.

Vasil remains hidden behind a tree, placing himself adjacent to the archers, along with some other village fighters.

OOC:

Intent is to stand in the path between the enemy and our archers, but not blocking the archers line of sight.
When their footmen engage us, the archers should still be able to shoot them. Vasil is standing his ground, hoping to gain advantageous position, and if possible, surprise.

Vasil stands among the spear line, at the edge of the bridge, shoulder to shoulder with the villagepeople. His spear's wicked point gleaming, ready, he plants his feet, and readies himself to plunge the point into the first enemy who closes range.

The soldiers find their footing, and as Vasil comes to defend the bridge, they begin to clasp their weapons more confidently.The wolves strange dance seems to be evolving, they worry at an invisible foe, in a strange and bizarre dance, as one leaps forward and drives a set of massive jaw at the air, and then that one's opposite partner mimics the movement.

Taft looses his arrow at the very moment that another member of the Tower retinue steps in front of their leader. The arrow glances of his shoulder, leaving only a minor wound.

Taft falls to the ground and presses himself into the muck and ferns. He whispers to Bohn, who passes him another arrow,

"My aim was true but I hit another. And I did not even fell him"

Vasil grits his teeth, and steps forward onto his strong leg, driving the spear forward with his legs and core. He looks into the panicked faces of the men before him. I have worked hard to make this place my home. You will not take that from me.

Shadow chases after the scent, howling as it runs, and aims to tear off the largest chunk of spirit.

The spear thrusts seems to be mimicked time and time again by the flying of arrows after arrow through the air. In a few seconds that last an age, the villagers capitalise on the panic of these Interlopers. Before the group have regrouped enough to mount any sort of defence, six of their number lie dead.

The arrow that missed the leader snaps off in the armour of one of the scouts. The scouts back off to side side closest to their ridge, stepping on the mud now as if it were solid ground. They string their bows as they go, bending the wood against the bank. The leader's gaze drops to the arrow, and she turns to look towards the hills on which Taft hides. She steps back, carefully, along the log, and her voice rings out loud and clear. "Retreat in good order. Make for the trees."The wolves tear at a first prey, and then, swiftly, bear down on a second patch of mud. The taste of spirit-essence and cold, grey, stone fills Winter's Third Bites mouth as the wolf tears at the flesh of a creature as large as a human. As the wolves leap on their second prey, the faint outline of fallen rocks, arranged haphazardly. can be seen where they downed their first one.

The largest wolf howls, turning to face the retreating soldiers, and the following words form in Vasil's mind "The Wolf Will Hunt The Spirit-Taken".

Time dilates, slowing and racing at once. Vasil yells as he plunges the spear into the belly of a man, who stands frozen in fear. Moving to a second - this one a woman - has some time to react, seeing her comrades felled on both sides. Vasil takes a half-step, feinting a blow toward her forward knee. She moves to block, swinging her weapon low, but her fear leaves her slow in her response, as Vasil presses his rear hand to the base of his weapon's pole, levering the point high, and drives it into the enemy's neck.

An arrow soars across the bog, planting itself into the shoulder of a Tower soldier. The solder jerks, fumbling his attack, and is quickly stuck with a spear and a pitchfork bore by the two farmer's sons.

The Tower's soldiers begin to turn heel, as Vasil sees Sulo cut down one more, shouldering his foe into the bog below.

Half a dozen of their enemy incapacitated, dead or dying, the village militia begin moving forward in pursuit of the now fleeing enemy. Vasil moves with them, functioning more on instinct than thought.

Moving one foot after the other, Vasil is struck with a thought,
The Wolf will hunt the Spirit-Taken...
It takes him a moment to realise, that was not his thought, but a voice in his mind. Vasil's eyes quickly meet those of a large grey wolf, who stares back into his with intent. What intent Vasil did not- an arrow flies past Vasil, breaking his train of thought.

Adrenaline overtaking the strange sensation, Vasil moves to catch Sulo and the others, who are chasing the enemy.As with any chase for Vasil, it is reasonable to call for a test of his bad leg.

The majority of the Kallbacken defenders fight with the village at their back, but Taft and Bohn are on the far side, behind enemy lines.

In spite of the snarling and screaming all around him, Taft finds himself in a place of calm.

His instincts recall decades of hunting, and he falls easily into the rhythm of stalking, watching and waiting.

Lying deep in the ferns, he keeps his eye on the leader of the Tower. Lying on his belly, he backs slowly into the trees. They will soon be standing near where he shot his first arrow. It is a good place for cover. Taft will be waiting deeper in the forest, and this time, when he fires, he won't miss.

He whispers to Bohn,

"Stay well back. We are separated from our fellows, so we need to be ready to run if they find us. I am going to fell the leader."