The Moot in Mournvale
Chapter 20 of The Redemption of Olvir, the Forgotten
Previously in Olvir, the Forgotten: Olvir learns that Rooksbay plans to expand the city to include Woadmark Field, the site of an Iron Pillar, which is sacred to the Mournvale Clan. Can Olvir prevent bloodshed over this move?
Remember that I curate a Substack page with all the content related to Olvir the Forgotten, where you can catch up on anything you've missed.
To make non-combat interactions more engaging, I introduced “Social Moves” by a Reddit user called piyompi. I see these were posted seven years ago, so I’m unsure if this person is still around, but I thought I should acknowledge my source!
This resource provides a set of new Moves to advance debate and discussion. It proposes using a “Persuasion” Tracker as a social equivalent of the normal Ironsworn Progress Track.
Enough with the preamble, let’s get on with it!
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Olvir considers his options and determines there is no option but to head for the Mournvale Clan and try to negotiate a better option than heading directly into all-out war.
[ASK THE ORACLE] Does Sindri know where the Mournvale Camp is? No. She believes it is roughly North-East, but doesn’t know any specifics. OK, it’s a start…[UNDERTAKE A JOURNEY: Miss] Unsure of the camp's location, Olvir heads to the Iron Pillar, a tall, jet-black monolith standing in splendid isolation in a field to the North-East of Rooksbay. There is no sign of the Clan.He suspects that Clan members will probably visit the Pillar regularly, so they might be further away from the city in that direction. He continues along the path beyond Woadmark Field.
[UNDERTAKE A JOURNEY: Weak Hit] There is no sign of the Clan, but he does meet a traveller on the road. Perhaps he can help?Note: I took the NPC from The GM’s Book of NPCS by Jeff Ashworth. He is a Dwarf called Gilford Brazenhand, described as “a shirtless dwarf of considerable girth whose amber eyes stand out above a beard that blends almost seamlessly into a chest covered in pitch black hair, carrying an intimidating pole with a pick axe on one end and a hammer on the other”
I envision Gilford as a dwarf who has tired of using the pickaxe and hammer to break rocks and is seeking something more adventurous.
[ASK THE ORACLE] Is Gilford willing to team up with Olvir in a potentially dangerous quest to negotiate with a Raider Clan? [50/50: Strong Yes] He cheerfully joins with Olvir, and as a bonus, he knows the location of the Mournvale Clan, some way down the road where they meet.
Gilford Brazenhand trudged along the trail, shirtless despite the cold; his broad chest was a tangle of black hair and old scars. His polearm—half pickaxe, half hammer—rested across his wide shoulders.
Olvir called out. “Planning to dig your way to Rooksbay, or just trying to scare the road into submission?” Gilford turned, amber eyes gleaming beneath a furrowed brow. He flashed a toothy grin. “Depends. You offering a shortcut?”
“Something like that.” Olvir approached the cheery dwarf. “Name’s Olvir. I’m headed to Mournvale. Looking to speak with the clan. Negotiate, if they’ll listen.”
Gilford’s grin didn’t fade. “You’re either brave…or stupid.”
Probably both,” Olvir said. “But I’m hoping to avert a catastrophe. And I could do with someone who knows how to swing that thing with more than just muscle.
Gilford glanced at his weapon, then back at Olvir. “You know, I’ve been breaking rocks for years for men who never so much as looked me in the eye. Thought maybe it was time to build something rather than break it.”
He held out a thick, calloused hand. “You’ve got yourself a Brazenhand, friend. I know the way to Mournvale. Let’s see if we can keep our heads—and maybe knock a few together if we can’t.” Olvir clasped the dwarf’s hand, the pact sealed with a smile and shared intent. The road ahead might be uncertain, but at least for now, Olvir didn’t walk it alone.
[ASK THE ORACLE] Is the journey to Mournvale uneventful? [50/50: Yes]
The unlikely duo arrive on the outskirts of a collection of tents, marquees and ramshackle huts, bustling with surly-looking raiders busying themselves with manual labour. This must be Mournvale, such as it is!
A stocky man, sweating and cursing as he carries a stack of wooden planks, calls out, “Keep walking down the road, stranger, there’s nothing for you here.” Undeterred, Olvir approaches the man…
[SECURE THE ADVANTAGE: Strong Hit; +2 Persuasion] Olvir tells the man he is an emissary from the City Council in Rooksbay seeking to speak with the Clan Leaders. He appears somewhat suspicious but directs Olvir and Gilford towards a large canopied building at the centre of the camp.
Olvir inquires about the Clan Leader and learns it’s a man named [ASK THE ORACLE] Kestart Strongsmith, described as “wise as an owl, but cunning as a fox.” He appears to be someone who can be reasoned with.
Gilford suggests that Olvir does most of the talking, while Gilford does what he does best and “looks menacing. It’ll be the Ironlands version of 'good cop, bad cop,' right?” Gilford appears to find the reference hilarious and breaks into a hearty laugh. Olvir sighs.
News of the duo’s arrival at the camp has spread quickly, and they are anticipated as they carefully make their way to the main building. “Take a seat at the table, traveller,” a fur-wrapped older man says with a friendly wave, “we don’t get many from Rooksbay out this way.”
Olvir takes a seat while Gilford plays his role flawlessly, standing with arms crossed and a furrowed brow, his trusted polearm at his side. Olvir explains that he has come to discuss a tricky situation concerning Woadmark Field. If Strongsmith isn’t convinced by the story about him representing the City Council, he doesn’t show it.
The Clan Chief suggests they hold a moot with the other village elders in an hour. Meanwhile, he offers the hospitality of the Clan—food, drink, and rest to refresh them after their journey.
One hour later, after crusty bread, cheese, cold meat and a jug of mead…
Strongsmith has been joined at the table by half a dozen men, ranging from a rough-looking, clean-shaven young man who eyes them suspiciously, to a serene, white-haired man clad in robes whom they surmise is blind.
[START THE DEBATE: Weak Hit; +1 Persuasion] Olvir begins to speak, but the young ruffian interrupts, accusing Olvir of being a spy sent to scout out the village for a possible attack. Olvir senses Gilford reaching for his polearm. [Mournvale has initiative; -1 Spirit][REBUTTAL: Miss] Olvir begins to protest, but another man around the table stands and thumps the table. “Why do we need to listen to this intruder? I say we kill them both and send their heads back to Rooksbay as a warning.” The situation is deteriorating. [-1 spirit for a total of three]“Silence,” snaps Strongsmith, his voice surprisingly commanding, and the murmuring genuinely subsides. “This is not our way. We hold the moot to hear views. Then we make a judgment. Not before.” His voice softens, “Speak, friend. But make your words convincing; you can see how our clan regards outsiders.”
[MAKE AN ARGUMENT + Trickster Asset: Strong Hit; +2 Persuasion] Ashencry screeches loudly, which momentarily unnerves some of those around the table, as Olvir clears his throat. He decides to take the direct approach—he senses his opportunity is limited.“I know that you have heard about the plans to extend the city limits to include Woadmark Field. And I know why that offends you. The Iron Pillar is sacred to your clan, and I respect that, believe me.”
Olvir notices some of the elders leaning in to listen as he continues. [+ 1 Persuasion]
“I can intercede on your behalf. Perhaps the city will reconsider. Build somewhere else. Nobody needs to go to war over this. Blood doesn’t have to be shed.”
Olvir senses that some are willing to be convinced, although the young man who spoke up earlier looks unimpressed. “And why exactly would we trust Rooksbay?” he mutters, under his breath, but loud enough to cause murmurings.
[SECURE THE ADVANTAGE: Miss. Olvir “burns” his momentum, turning it into a Weak Hit.] Suddenly, everyone is talking at once. People shouting. Fists bang the table. Strongsmith struggles to maintain order. Gilford looks like he could swing his polearm at any second.
Sensing the situation, Olvir stands and yells, “Listen!” Surprisingly, there is momentary quiet. He has one last throw of the dice before pandemonium—and, most likely, violence—takes hold.
[FINAL REMARKS: Roll against the Persuasion Progress Track: Pass]“This must end. You don’t stand a chance against the full might of Rooksbay if this leads to all-out war. You’ve taken prisoners. A woman. A young girl. They have prisoners of yours—I’ve spoken with Magni myself. Let me try to bring peace between Mournvale and Rooksbay. Or at least try. If I fail, then all bets are off—trust in your weapons and may the gods have mercy on your dead souls when the bodies are piled high in Woadmark Field.”
Slowly and warily, the men around the table turn to look at Strongsmith. He seems lost in reflection. Finally, he speaks.
“The visitor speaks sense, my friends. We cannot prevail against Rooksbay if they send their army against the Clan. We will let him try to broker a treaty.”
[END THE DEBATE + Sway Asset: Weak Hit] Quickly, Olvir whispers the name “Kestart Strongsmith” three times under his breath. Swallowing hard, he asks, “And what of the prisoners? The young girl. The mother? How about a gesture of goodwill?”
“No,” states Strongsmith firmly without even pausing for thought. “They stay… for now! Bring news of a Treaty, and our friend, Magni, and they can go home. They will be well-treated here and not harmed. You have my word on that—“ reaching out a hand to Olvir.
Olvir quickly admits that he has reached his limit for now. He has managed to nudge the door open, at least partially. He still has no idea whether he can strike a deal with the City, but it’s a beginning—at least.
Final Note: The “Social Moves” mechanics worked well for this type of encounter and demonstrated the flexibility of the Ironsworn system. My thanks go to “piyompi” for the ideas, and I am now inspired to develop my own Move set for various actions and encounters in Olvir’s journey.
Olvir has brokered a fragile truce with the Mournvale Clan, but he hasn’t even made contact with the leaders in Rooksbay yet, let alone convinced them of anything. The vow is barely half fulfilled…
This was a fun read. D&D, and games like it, are supposed to have the three aspects of Combat, Exploration, and Social, but it seems like Combat is the only one that gets attention in rulebooks. I always like to see examples of games that put some structure around Social besides "make a Charisma check".