The Yule Log RPG

[littlemanpoet]

Greenbeard had lain down on his high bed. Wenda and Mara had stayed on the ground, tucking themselves underneath two fir trees, making a soft bed of the many years' fall of needles.

Wenda could feel it coming. It was not far away.

Pada and Muna stood close to each other as two peas in a pod. Their noses twitched and their wide eyes betrayed fear and the awareness that something that threatened their lives was near.

Fir Hill was not enough to hold back the shadow. It had felt so near most of the day and night, but now seemed remote. It was not; rather, it had diffused itself over great spaces so as to be harder to detect. Suddenly it closed on Fir Hill.

Wenda's lips betrayed a bare hiccup, but Mara saw the whites of her eyes. Her face darkened.

"Wenda! Wenda!" Mara cried fearfully.

The shadow found the two-souled woman. The other woman would be next, then the Ent. It wanted this second soul, sweet to the taste, all mute fear and despair. It consumed.

Wenda seemed to be choking in her sleep, her body shaking and fighting against itself in seeming, her arms flailing.

"Araròma calls you, foul beast!" cried a sharp voice from very close by. Of a sudden Wenda's contorting body fell back and she seemed as one dead.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Owl had been exceedingly busy for the past few hours, not only preparing for the attack that must be made, but soothing disgruntled egos and straightening ruffled feathers. He had hurried over when Wren had questioned Tevildo's motives and, with the help of Mori and Stamo, brought some semblance of peace between the smaller birds and the cat. The songbirds were poised on the topmost eaves of the Inn, each pair balancing a small kettle filled with oil that was intended to be dumped onto the wolves.

Tevildo's old hunting buddies had unexpectedly reappeared at the Inn, either because they had a second sense for sniffing out a good fight or simply didn't want to remain outside with a pack of ravenous wolves loose in the neighborhood. Tevildo had deserted his post with the songbirds and had resumed his spot at the head of his feline gang. The cats were positioned in the middle branches of the tree, ready to spring down and lend their sharpened claws once the larger beasts had brought the pack to bay.

The howling of the wolves was becoming louder and more insistent as they sped across the plain and approached the outer gate of the courtyard. Owl had hurriedly slipped through one of the still open windows and flew above the Inn in large sweeping circles, keeping a close eye on what was happening below. At that instant, he saw the lead beast approach the old stone wall that ran along the perimeter of the Green Man's courtyard. The creature leapt the stone fence with two great bounds and began streaking through the outer garden.

With a great hoot and cry, Owl bellowed out a warning, "Everybody ready. In your place. We must fight for our burrows and our nests, for our little ones, both two legged and four legged. Everyone together now. The battle is upon us." With that, Owl dived towards one of the advancing beasts, pressing forward with his claws to strike and tear at the pair of gleeming yellow eyes.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Once he had leapt the stone fence, Nilak was pleased to discover that he was standing directly in front of the Inn. Inside that building must lie a sumptious feast, nearly free for the asking. He had a particular weakness for the young cubs of the two-leggeds. Surely, there would be a few of these little ones hiding under their bedclothes.

Nilak's gold eyes peered steadily into the night taking in the entire yard and even the lower branches of the trees. For one instant, it appeared as if the courtyard was entirely deserted. Perhaps the two-leggeds did not even know that they were about to attack. But then, out of the darkness, he caught a jumbled glimpse of several hazy figures, half hidden in the shadows, concealed behind whatever cover they could manage to find. What Nilak saw pleased him immensely. With the sole exception of one large and rather awkward looking bear, most of the others looked to be small and weak opponents, scarcely worthy of his attention: a bevy of birds, several hobbits with tiny bows, and some disreputable looking cats.

Howling in triumph, the leader of the pack hurled himself forward and called out to the other wolves: "At them, boys. They are weak and puny. We shall feast on fresh meat tonight."

[piosenniel]

Oil and ashes . . .


As the first of the beasts cleared the wall, the smaller birds flew out from the second story windows with their small pouches of oil and dropped them on the wolves. Not all of them hit the target, but splashed on the ground beneath the pack’s feet. And that was alright – the tall men had told them so. The little puddles of oil on the ground could just as easily catch fire from the Halflings’ arrows and make small barriers that would distract the wolves.

Distract the wolves, they would indeed. For now the smallest of birds flew out from those same windows. There were four of them to a linen dish towel, each to a corner. The center of the towel held a light load of ash and cinder from the fireplace.

There were four towel formations which launched their attack against the foe.Soon a number of the wolves were yowling as their eyes were assaulted by the dust and scratched by the cinders.

Wren flew down in a mad dive bomb of the nearest wolf's tail once his load of ashes were dropped. And a number of the other small birds assisted him, much like a swarm of bees rushes in to sting an offending intruder.

There were, of course, casualties, as the great beasts snapped at the small defenders. But many of the little birds were able to find places on the wolves, especially about the tender ears where they could peck and rip at the flesh. And some, though not all of these brave birds survived, were able to grab hold of a bushy eyebrow and peck out a nasty yellow eye or two . . .

[Arry]

It was hard to wait. The wolves had begun to come over the wall, and Willem could barely control the urge to shoot at them. He stood stock still as did his brother, though, and arrow nocked in his bow; the string pulled back to h his ear.

‘Wait, wait,’ whispered Andwise. ‘They will fly out soon.’

And no sooner had the words left his lips than a cloud of birds flew from the windows just below them, the little pouches of oil clenched firmly in their little feet.

Birger stepped near with an oil soaked brand and plunged it into the live coals. It caught flame and he quickly transferred the flames to the arrows of the Halflings.

‘Make them count – Madoc, Willem.’ Andwise spoke low, keeping his eye on the wolves below. He let loose his arrow, striking the left flank of a wolf just jumping down from the stone wall.

The beast yelped in anger and in pain. And in his attempt to roll and put out the fire, the wolf managed to ignite several puddles of oil on the ground.

Willem and Andwise sent their own arrows flying, too; one hitting a wolf, one glancing off the haunches of another to go skittering onto the oil-soaked ground.

One more round of flaming arrows flew toward the foe from the Halflings’ bows. There were smoky, flaming patches on the ground below, and a number of the wolves were panicked from their own singeing.

Then, with a gesture to Birger that they were done, the three archers moved a little closer to the edge of the eaves and began to fire at the wolves with the remainder of their sharp-edged arrows.

[Rose]

As the wolves began to leap the stone wall into the Green Man’s back courtyard, White Paw and his two brothers closed in behind them from the right. The brown bear, on silent paws for one so large, swung in from the left. The four defenders loped along silently behind the nine wolves.

The last two wolves in line were keeping watch as their fellows leapt in ones and twos to the top of the wall and over. They were just turning, themselves, to follow after the pack when they were hit hard from behind.

With a might swipe of his big, sharp-clawed paw, the bear hurled the wolf nearest him against the wall. The wolf was not killed, but he was stunned and he struggled to find his footing as he shook his head, trying to clear it from the impact. With a roar the bear’s massive, muscular body was upon him. With a loud crunch he snapped the wolf’s neck in his powerful jaws. And for good measure he shook the now limp body with a fury and flung it over the wall.

The other wolf had launched himself against the bear hoping to drive it from his packmate. White Paw hurtled himself toward the attacking wolf’s hind legs, knocking him down for a moment. The hound’s snapping jaws hamstringed the wolf on one side and the beast turned, biting savagely at White Paw.

White Paw’s two brother’s barreled into the side of the wolf and brought him fully down. As the wolf turned to lunge and lifted his head to bite at them, White Paw scrambled forward to seize the wolf by the neck. It was a bloody struggle, the three hounds against the big wolf. But at the last, the lupine body lay still and bleeding onto the blood-muddied snow.

‘Well done!’ the bear growled turning toward the gate in the wall. ‘Now come, wolf-banes! There are more inside to be killed. With a roar he rushed to the gate and opened it with a swipe of his paw. Behind him the hounds ran, bloodied, howling loud at the promise of another kill.