Blood on the Snow

Intro

In the northeastern reaches of Darkwood, 50 miles from the coast of the Frozen Sea, a community of 400 hardy souls scrape out an existence in the forested valleys along the edge of the Ozgarn Mountains. They call themselves the Nord, descendants of seagoing explorers from Icelund.

You are of these people.

The village of your birth is in a thickly-treed valley bottom and protected by a ring of 10' thick thorn bushes and sharpened spear-like stakes pointing outwards. This mostly keeps the wolves and trolls away.

A trout-filled creek, which surges up to 5' deep, 30' across in spring, runs through middle of village, requiring a simple wooden bridge. Your huts are built of mud and branches, though one squat stone building houses King Valgard and his family.

Domesticated dairy goats and sheep wander around in the village, and daily foraging trips into the forest bring back berries, nuts, and venison. A dozen horses are used for occasional heavy labor.

The elevation is 5000', and snow remains on the ground well into early summer.

Late most summers, tax collectors from Nottingham pay a visit, and an uneasy negotiation takes place over several days. They often bring spices, small tools, and trinkets to soften their demands for what little gold and gems the village has pried from the ground over the previous. Some in the village question the value of compliance, but Valgard says it is necessary as long as the Nord inhabit these lowland valleys.

It was not always so; the Nord inhabited the rocky crags of the Ozgarns for generations. It is a sad tale, known to you all, that brought you from those heights.

One summer morning, instead of tax collectors, a different Nottingham group arrives: Bishop Salvatore, four soldiers, and two elven rangers, all on horseback.

They meet with Valgard and his advisers all day, and the feast that night, King Valgard, flanked by the newcomers and Elder Einar, makes the following statement:

 We are the Nord.

 100 years ago, ours was a proud people. We worked high in the mountains, 
 the mighty Ozgarns. We worked the land, the harsh and frozen crags, along 
 side the dwarves and hobgoblins and stone giants in a fragile peace. We 
 hunted caribou and musk ox and wolves and mammoths, and mined precious 
 metals from the mountains, and drank joyously in great mead-halls constructed  
 among the cliffs of timbers as thick as a man is tall.

 Our forge, Brannjern, turned out weapons of steel that never broke, 
 never dulled. Our smiths were legendary in their prowess, and to this day,
 Nord Steel, forged in Brannjern, knows no equal.

 Our king in those days, our sovereign leader Asgrim, a mighty warrior, 
 Asgrim Whitebeard,  Asgrim Bloodletter, father to a dozen sons, led our 
 men to victory in countless battles with beasts of the mountains – orcs, 
 ogres, formorians, worg, and ice trolls.

 Some said it was Asgrim's greatsword that made him undefeatable on the battlefield; 
 others said it was his great ruby ring. Both had been passed down over 16 generations, 
 since even before our people crossed the Great Water to this land.

 But Asgrim was to be defeated, and our people nearly destroyed. The ring and sword 
 of Asgrim were not enough to save us.

 One dark afternoon in January, Asgrim led our strongest fathers and brothers and 
 sons into a new valley beyond a deep blue glacier. 

 What befell them is unknown, but all were slain and left to freeze on the ice.
 Our strongest bloodlines were extinguished that afternoon, and we Nord have
 been struggling to regain our former stature since that day.


 You all know Elder Einar. He is the last survivor of that tragic event on the
 ice. As he approaches the dimming of this life, he has made his wishes known to
 me. The Nord must reclaim the Sword and Ring of Asgrim from the battlefield in
 the valley of his doom. 

 And now the opportunity is upon us.

 We have transferred treasures to the tax collectors of Nottingham since I was
 a child. Many have asked me, and before me, my father, King Fromund, why we do
 so. And the answer is here, today. 

 These men of Nottingham, Bishop Salvatore and his soldiers and guides, have come
 to us today to help regain our ancestral treasures.

 They will accompany a group of our strongest Nord on an expedition to the 
 Valley of Doom to find our fallen fathers, put their bones to rest, and bring
 home Asgrim's greatsword, ring, and the rest of the Nord Steel.

King Valgard himself suffers from asthma, and doesn't do well at high elevations. He knows he cannot lead the party, and so must choose a representative to lead the group, preferably a blood relative.

Character Creation

150 points to spend

max 100 on attributes
max 50 disadvantages
max 50 advantages

Skill Template for all:

Tracking - minimum 1 pt
Survival (Woodlands) - minimum 1 pt
Wrestling (a Nord pastime) - minimum 1 pt

Recommended attributes: ST, HT (gene pool)

Recommended advantages: Talent (Outdoorsman), Fit

Recommended disadvantage: Sense of Duty (Nord)

Appearance: The Nord are a big-boned Scandinavian-type people. Think Vikings.

Magic: The Nord rely on axes, leather, and spears more than magic. But, combined with a 5-point Unusual Background Advantage, one level of Magery is permitted, as are spells from the following colleges:

• Plant
• Weather
• Earth
• Fire
• Food
• Healing
• Making & Breaking
• Protection

Equipment: Nord Steel, forged in Brannjern, is not present in the village; it was all lost with the decimation of the warriors beyond the glacier in the valley of doom. One exception: the king's own blade, Ulvtand, which he will lend to his personal representative, the strongest warrior. It is a Thrusting Bastard Sword, and imbued with special characteristics typical of Nord Steel:

armor divisor: 3
+2 to skill
+2 to damage
Shatterproof

• Armor is limited to furs and leather. Winter clothing is required.
• Weapons: spears and axes are typical, bows and broadswords less so.