The Fellowship consisted of three: a Woodmen name the Eagle and the Archer, and a fair elf, Orphal. The trip, though broke with the hollow howls of the Werewolf of Mirkwood, was pleasant enough the rest of the way south towards the Western Eaves. The weather fair, and the pipeweed fairer still, the trip down the valley of Anduin was fine indeed.
It was a clear July night when they arrived at the Woodman Hall. There greeted as the long lost relatives they were, save for the elf, there was the sharing of news and mead. The company noticed that the men of the Hall were consumed with a recent visit by a group of distant kin from the East Bight. It seems they had a simple request: a folk moot. In which they hoped to be joined to the Woodmen of Western Mirkwood. It seems the town was nearly divided upon the matter of even granting a hearing.
But the Fellowship had other matters pressing on its mind: that of the foul creature they were tasked to follow by none other than Gandalf himself. Many of the Hall men were fascinated by the descriptions of the Grey Wanderer himself, yet it failed to produce much concern above the din of the possible Folk Moot with the East Bighters. In an effort to drum up support, the Eagle, not strictly from Woodland Hall, sought out an elder by the name of Odo to speak with about the creature they tracked, and the need to prepare for it to come this way. Odo was unconerned, but pressed the Company to describe Gandalf. Seeing they could get nowhere, the Eagle asked the Archer, who else they might talk with (for the Archer was from the Woodland Hall). The Archer suggested Alaric. He, however, had gone a hunting.
While the Fellowship awaited Alaric’s return and the Folk Moot vote, they wandered among the trees and hills surrounding the town. Nearly a week later on July the 13th, they met Alaric returning; trusty hound trotting by his side. Well met were the Fellows by Alaric, who shared their concern for dark things lurking amidst Mirkwood. He suggested they speak to all those assembled in a few nights at the Great Hall. They agreed.
At the Great Hall, after all the Elders had spoken regarding the Folk Moot, Alaric introduced the unknown members of the Company, and they had their say. Through Song and Jest, by Oratory and Valor, they urged the men of the Woodland Hall to heed their warning of the dark thing that crept its way toward their fair homes. With their wisdom and words spent, the Woodman of Woodland Hall cheered the Company, and declared that not only would they receive a party of men to help them track this wicked creature, but they would head the party to the East Bight.
The Fellowship agreed since the journey to the East Bight would not press into the Autumn when they feared the foul being would appear in the Western Eaves. Thus they set out the very next morn south to pick up other party members from Woodman Town, and Rhosgobel.
At Woodman Town, the Eagle, received a fair reception, his direct kinsmen so proud that one of their own had been so chosen to give the Folk Moot Invitation to the peoples of the East Bight. His mother, doubly proud of her eldest son, dotted on him by providing some bright journey cakes for their trip. The sweet cakes did just the trick when weather was foul, and spirits were damp. Further south they pressed practicing on the way not only their craft (of walking sticks and archer arrow) but their chance with Song (much to the dismay of their fellows)
In Rhosgobel the clinking of cups and ripping of bread greeted them at the table of Rhadghast the Brown. Afraid were the Company at the thought that they might not share the table with their Wizard friend, nevertheless he appeared to wish them well, and hear of their travels. He appeared grave upon their tell of the creature they tracked, and added his own dark tidings of Orc and Spiders and of the woes farther South.
Early the next morning, as the Sun crept over the horizon the Company set out. The two Woodmen, familiar with the area, could tell that the weather was going to be worse as they entered the Narrows. The wind from the North foretold of violent Late Summer Storms, with possible flood, and certainly mud. As they crossed the threshold and stepped into the Narrows, the Company felt the press of the Shadow upon this darker part of the woods. As they crossed they continued to practice their craft, push the boundaries of their battlefield knowledge, and sing a song in the grey damp evenings to lift their spirits. More often than not they were unsuccessful but the attempts were not unappreciated by those that crowded around the smoldering campfire.
In the first week of August, they stepped from the dim recesses of the Narrows into the East Bight, drinking deeply the fresh air and breathing the bright sunshine of such an open land.
East Bight and Down
Re: East Bight and Down
Nice write up. And I love the name!
Elfcrusher wrote:But maybe the most important difference is that in D&D the goal is to build wtfpwn demi-god characters. In TOR the goal is to stay alive long enough to tell a good story.
Re: East Bight and Down
I ah thank ya! I love "pun-ish" things like that.
Also
Looking for 1-2 more players for my The One Ring campaign: Saturday Nights 6-9PM MST (GMT-7) Any takers?
Also
Looking for 1-2 more players for my The One Ring campaign: Saturday Nights 6-9PM MST (GMT-7) Any takers?
Re: East Bight and Down
Session 3 - sorry it got out of hand we just had so much good dialogue!!!!
Brace Yourself
Within a day the Company was to enter the Halls of Ceawin of East Bight to deliver the Folk Moot invitation from the Elders of the Woodman Lands. Among the company of Men was the young Eagle of Woodman Hall, the reckless Healer of Rhosgobel, and a small Hobbit from the Shire, Milo. The Archer, of Woodland Hall, though present, busied himself with his own pursuits that day.
It was twilight, nearly dark, as the Eagle gazed out into the open area of the East Bight. He was drawn back into memory of a Folk Moot caravan long since passed:
The pillar of smoke rose in the distance, the Eagle's father ran down the green hill; the Eagle followed. At the base of the small valley they were greeted by flies, bloody stench, and dead bodies. The Eagle's father turned to him.
"Quick, get back to the Hall. Let them know our Caravan was attacked; to prepare themselves for attack as well."
The Eagle flew as fast as he could upon his thin legs. Shoving through the heavy wooden doors, he lumbered into the Hall; He raised the alarm.
The Elder of the Hall queried, "What of our good tiding gifts? And the Necklace of my Late Departed Wife!"
The Eagle could say nothing of these things, and was bidden to find out where those items were. Back he sped to his father; together they searched the dead, most of the materials were present. The necklace was not among the goods. They widened their search into the grassy hills, still nothing.
"We must find it Eagle, if we do not, they will not regard our invitation with honor; war may be upon us!" The Eagle doubled his efforts, but in vain. His eye caught a group of ragged men come over the hill; his father commanded him to run. As he did he looked back to see his father felled by a spear from one of the foul men.
The Eagle jolted awake as he noticed two Woodman from the party leering towards the Hobbit, Milo.
It was a week or two since the small fellow named Milo had joined the company. Milo caught notice of them at the meeting at Rhadaghast's in Rhosgobel. Being of small stature it seemed that none but the animals noticed him, so he trailed the Company when they left. However, he did not go completely unnoticed. For some time, the Hound, Wulfred from Rhosgobel, noted a small presence; not foul, per say, but persistent nonetheless. Wulfred mentioned his suspicion of a "thief" to the Healer.
"Well, create a trap, you're good at that, and lets see what we catch!" the Healer replied.
Within the day Wulfred gleeful announced that he had caught something in his trap. The Eagle and The Healer followed him to it. A smallish burlap sack hung suspended from a sapling, a hairy foot wiggling from the opening. With a quick slice, Healer cut the cord binding the bag, and out tumbled a small man. The trio gasped.
"What are you? You seem to be but half a thing!" Wulfred cried.
"I am a Hobbit, not half a thing! I am whole, I am Milo!"
The Eagle and The Healer smiled at one another, it was one of those "Bilbo" things they'd heard about from Rhadaghast.
"Are you related to Bilbo?" Healer asked.
"I am surely! A kin of mine a ways back!" Milo returned.
Healer turned to Hound, "It appears your thief is not!" And Milo joined the Company on its way, much to Wulfred's dismay.
Eagle and Healer sat up as the two Woodmen came within striking distance of Milo. The Eagle flew to their side, and they turned to hear him.
"Listen my fellow woodman, no need to bother Milo. He has no ill regard for you or Wulfred!"
"Keep your tongue in your mouth Eagle, or we shall pluck your feathers. This half a thing has been a thorn in our side since the day he was discovered." The one said.
The other added, "And he accused our dear companion Wulfred of treacherous desires."
"Milo only told of what he saw, namely that the Hound was spending much time with the pouches of Good Will Gifts to Ceawin of the East Bight." Eagle replied.
"He was the quartermaster's assistant, it was his duty!!" The man growled.
"And he needed some rest; with which the Quartermaster agreed." Eagle countered.
The Healer bounded towards the men, crashing into the largest one; rebuffed he declared, "You and your men would do well to watch your words. The Wizard Rhadaghast would be quite angered to hear of our divisions!"
The two woodman peered at each other, and with open face and hand they said, "We want no quarrel with a wizard. We will not press the matter further."
The Brown Wizard's name conjured up their last meeting in Eagle's mind:
"You know, Eagle, this Folk Moot is so important. Why, if men can but forge unifiying bonds amongst themselves, we shall be amazed at their deeds. In all of Middle Earth the magic of men is the most subtle, the most powerful..."
"And the most fragile." the eagle interrupted
"Indeed." the Brown Wizard added.
A small tug at his breeches pulled the Eagle to the present. Looking down, it was Milo.
"Sire, whilst you big fellas were talking, I spied another fellow, the Hound I think, flee from camp. Yonder north!"
The Healer sprung to the pony packs; searched he did through the good will gifts for the one thing that would sink the endeavor if lost: Ignomer's golden bracer. The Eagle and Milo rushed to follow the northwinding companion. The search for the bracer was in vain, but not for the wayward fellow. The Eagle and Milo found the recent rains, and subsequent mud, to provide excellent help in tracking the Hound. Off they set into the dark depths of Mirkwood after the Hound.
The Healer arrived by their side in short order and the Company pressed after the bearer of the bracer. Nearer they drew to him, but a small, fast running, and over flowing river barred their way. With earnestness the Eagle plowed through the small swift river, losing his footing, but flopping to the other side; safe. To ensure the safety of Milo, the Healer and Eagle tied a rope to trees; they forded the river thusly. On the other side they looked about for tracks, finding them, they followed them. The tracks were closer together, tired, and they were sure their prey was not far hence. Shortly they stumbled upon drier ground, and the tracks seemed to be trampled - by Orcs. Around them the trees played tricks as shadows lurked and wind through trees sound liked dark
whispers.
With tracks lost, and orcs near the Eagle called for a night animal to help. From the dark woods a small red furred face peered out. The Eagle bent on his knee, held out some jerky, and the kit fox slid over to him. Milo and Healer watched and listened as the Eagle and fox yipped and yawed quietly back and forth. The fox pointed his muzzle when questioned about the lone man, then growled lowly. Eagle nodded and yapped back. The Eagle stood up, the fox slipped away, and he relayed the fox's news to the rest of the Company.
"Our foxy friend told me there are orcs around, and he saw the Hound."
"Which way did he go, and how far?" The Healer asked as he squeezed his axe handle, tightly smiled and looked for orcs.
"All he could say was 'two bounds of the bunny'”, the Eagle pointed north, “That way.”
The Fellowship marched North with a wide stride hoping to catch the Hound quickly. Ahead they spied a clearing, and the Healer cautioned the Company.
“That would be a fine place for an ambush, especially with Orc about. Quietly now!”
The Companions, with the aid of soft ground, and soft pace quietly arrived at the clearing. As they peered into the area from their dark hiding spots, they saw Wulfred. Surrounding him were three goblins and an Orc. With fowl speech the Orc spoke to Wulfred, then in broken common he barked, “Where are your tribe!” He smashed Wulfred against some boulders. From Wulfred's hand the golden bracer of Ignomer fell; the Orc snatched it up and demanded more.
“Now!”
With swiftness the Company unleashed a volley of spears and daggers. They missed, yet Healer was able to get another volley off, sinking a dagger deep into the chest of a goblin. As the foul group swiveled to defend themselves the Fellowship dashed upon them like the tide. One strike of the Healer’s axe and a Goblin was down. A slash from the Eagle’s axe, across the arm of a goblin, set it to howling. And with his wits about him, Milo stabbed upward, splitting a Goblin deeply.
The evil foes returned the blows, though alone Orc did hit: upon the body of the Healer landed a mighty blow that bent his knee. With gritted teeth and tightened grip, the Healer sunk his axe into the barreled chest of the Orc. The Eagle relieved a goblin of its head; Milo sent his goblin to the the Void. With all its gang gone, the final goblin sought to flee; it tripped on a root and the Eagle dealt with him like any pile of lumber.
Grabbing the bracer and turning their gaze upon Wulfred the Company demanded to know of his witless gamble.
“I want nothing to do with the East Bighters, they will be a pox on our land.”
With wide words they chastened the Hound and returned to their camp. In camp there was much excitement and three tall strange men wrapped in dark furs and foul countenances. One of the troop pointed to the Fellowship as they appeared, the tallest of the fellows rumbled towards them.
“I am Balrac, of Tyrant’s Hill, vassal of Mogdred. We demand a tribute for your safe journey through the Narrows!”
The Fellowship fumbled and wondered what to do, when out stepped Milo, holding a gleaming gem.
“This ought to cover it!”
The men of Mogdred with widened eye accepted the gem and disappeared into the Narrows with a joke on their lips about taking gems from a baby, and news of Orcs about the area.
The Company made it to Ceawin’s Hall, presented the gifts, and deeply impressed the Members of the Great Hall of East Bight with their deeds on the trip and of their efforts to secure the goodwill gifts for the East Bight. The sacred event turned festive as Milo sang to the crowd and the ale flowed. The night grew long, so did the song, and the Halls of the East Bight rang with the goodwill of men.
Brace Yourself
Within a day the Company was to enter the Halls of Ceawin of East Bight to deliver the Folk Moot invitation from the Elders of the Woodman Lands. Among the company of Men was the young Eagle of Woodman Hall, the reckless Healer of Rhosgobel, and a small Hobbit from the Shire, Milo. The Archer, of Woodland Hall, though present, busied himself with his own pursuits that day.
It was twilight, nearly dark, as the Eagle gazed out into the open area of the East Bight. He was drawn back into memory of a Folk Moot caravan long since passed:
The pillar of smoke rose in the distance, the Eagle's father ran down the green hill; the Eagle followed. At the base of the small valley they were greeted by flies, bloody stench, and dead bodies. The Eagle's father turned to him.
"Quick, get back to the Hall. Let them know our Caravan was attacked; to prepare themselves for attack as well."
The Eagle flew as fast as he could upon his thin legs. Shoving through the heavy wooden doors, he lumbered into the Hall; He raised the alarm.
The Elder of the Hall queried, "What of our good tiding gifts? And the Necklace of my Late Departed Wife!"
The Eagle could say nothing of these things, and was bidden to find out where those items were. Back he sped to his father; together they searched the dead, most of the materials were present. The necklace was not among the goods. They widened their search into the grassy hills, still nothing.
"We must find it Eagle, if we do not, they will not regard our invitation with honor; war may be upon us!" The Eagle doubled his efforts, but in vain. His eye caught a group of ragged men come over the hill; his father commanded him to run. As he did he looked back to see his father felled by a spear from one of the foul men.
The Eagle jolted awake as he noticed two Woodman from the party leering towards the Hobbit, Milo.
It was a week or two since the small fellow named Milo had joined the company. Milo caught notice of them at the meeting at Rhadaghast's in Rhosgobel. Being of small stature it seemed that none but the animals noticed him, so he trailed the Company when they left. However, he did not go completely unnoticed. For some time, the Hound, Wulfred from Rhosgobel, noted a small presence; not foul, per say, but persistent nonetheless. Wulfred mentioned his suspicion of a "thief" to the Healer.
"Well, create a trap, you're good at that, and lets see what we catch!" the Healer replied.
Within the day Wulfred gleeful announced that he had caught something in his trap. The Eagle and The Healer followed him to it. A smallish burlap sack hung suspended from a sapling, a hairy foot wiggling from the opening. With a quick slice, Healer cut the cord binding the bag, and out tumbled a small man. The trio gasped.
"What are you? You seem to be but half a thing!" Wulfred cried.
"I am a Hobbit, not half a thing! I am whole, I am Milo!"
The Eagle and The Healer smiled at one another, it was one of those "Bilbo" things they'd heard about from Rhadaghast.
"Are you related to Bilbo?" Healer asked.
"I am surely! A kin of mine a ways back!" Milo returned.
Healer turned to Hound, "It appears your thief is not!" And Milo joined the Company on its way, much to Wulfred's dismay.
Eagle and Healer sat up as the two Woodmen came within striking distance of Milo. The Eagle flew to their side, and they turned to hear him.
"Listen my fellow woodman, no need to bother Milo. He has no ill regard for you or Wulfred!"
"Keep your tongue in your mouth Eagle, or we shall pluck your feathers. This half a thing has been a thorn in our side since the day he was discovered." The one said.
The other added, "And he accused our dear companion Wulfred of treacherous desires."
"Milo only told of what he saw, namely that the Hound was spending much time with the pouches of Good Will Gifts to Ceawin of the East Bight." Eagle replied.
"He was the quartermaster's assistant, it was his duty!!" The man growled.
"And he needed some rest; with which the Quartermaster agreed." Eagle countered.
The Healer bounded towards the men, crashing into the largest one; rebuffed he declared, "You and your men would do well to watch your words. The Wizard Rhadaghast would be quite angered to hear of our divisions!"
The two woodman peered at each other, and with open face and hand they said, "We want no quarrel with a wizard. We will not press the matter further."
The Brown Wizard's name conjured up their last meeting in Eagle's mind:
"You know, Eagle, this Folk Moot is so important. Why, if men can but forge unifiying bonds amongst themselves, we shall be amazed at their deeds. In all of Middle Earth the magic of men is the most subtle, the most powerful..."
"And the most fragile." the eagle interrupted
"Indeed." the Brown Wizard added.
A small tug at his breeches pulled the Eagle to the present. Looking down, it was Milo.
"Sire, whilst you big fellas were talking, I spied another fellow, the Hound I think, flee from camp. Yonder north!"
The Healer sprung to the pony packs; searched he did through the good will gifts for the one thing that would sink the endeavor if lost: Ignomer's golden bracer. The Eagle and Milo rushed to follow the northwinding companion. The search for the bracer was in vain, but not for the wayward fellow. The Eagle and Milo found the recent rains, and subsequent mud, to provide excellent help in tracking the Hound. Off they set into the dark depths of Mirkwood after the Hound.
The Healer arrived by their side in short order and the Company pressed after the bearer of the bracer. Nearer they drew to him, but a small, fast running, and over flowing river barred their way. With earnestness the Eagle plowed through the small swift river, losing his footing, but flopping to the other side; safe. To ensure the safety of Milo, the Healer and Eagle tied a rope to trees; they forded the river thusly. On the other side they looked about for tracks, finding them, they followed them. The tracks were closer together, tired, and they were sure their prey was not far hence. Shortly they stumbled upon drier ground, and the tracks seemed to be trampled - by Orcs. Around them the trees played tricks as shadows lurked and wind through trees sound liked dark
whispers.
With tracks lost, and orcs near the Eagle called for a night animal to help. From the dark woods a small red furred face peered out. The Eagle bent on his knee, held out some jerky, and the kit fox slid over to him. Milo and Healer watched and listened as the Eagle and fox yipped and yawed quietly back and forth. The fox pointed his muzzle when questioned about the lone man, then growled lowly. Eagle nodded and yapped back. The Eagle stood up, the fox slipped away, and he relayed the fox's news to the rest of the Company.
"Our foxy friend told me there are orcs around, and he saw the Hound."
"Which way did he go, and how far?" The Healer asked as he squeezed his axe handle, tightly smiled and looked for orcs.
"All he could say was 'two bounds of the bunny'”, the Eagle pointed north, “That way.”
The Fellowship marched North with a wide stride hoping to catch the Hound quickly. Ahead they spied a clearing, and the Healer cautioned the Company.
“That would be a fine place for an ambush, especially with Orc about. Quietly now!”
The Companions, with the aid of soft ground, and soft pace quietly arrived at the clearing. As they peered into the area from their dark hiding spots, they saw Wulfred. Surrounding him were three goblins and an Orc. With fowl speech the Orc spoke to Wulfred, then in broken common he barked, “Where are your tribe!” He smashed Wulfred against some boulders. From Wulfred's hand the golden bracer of Ignomer fell; the Orc snatched it up and demanded more.
“Now!”
With swiftness the Company unleashed a volley of spears and daggers. They missed, yet Healer was able to get another volley off, sinking a dagger deep into the chest of a goblin. As the foul group swiveled to defend themselves the Fellowship dashed upon them like the tide. One strike of the Healer’s axe and a Goblin was down. A slash from the Eagle’s axe, across the arm of a goblin, set it to howling. And with his wits about him, Milo stabbed upward, splitting a Goblin deeply.
The evil foes returned the blows, though alone Orc did hit: upon the body of the Healer landed a mighty blow that bent his knee. With gritted teeth and tightened grip, the Healer sunk his axe into the barreled chest of the Orc. The Eagle relieved a goblin of its head; Milo sent his goblin to the the Void. With all its gang gone, the final goblin sought to flee; it tripped on a root and the Eagle dealt with him like any pile of lumber.
Grabbing the bracer and turning their gaze upon Wulfred the Company demanded to know of his witless gamble.
“I want nothing to do with the East Bighters, they will be a pox on our land.”
With wide words they chastened the Hound and returned to their camp. In camp there was much excitement and three tall strange men wrapped in dark furs and foul countenances. One of the troop pointed to the Fellowship as they appeared, the tallest of the fellows rumbled towards them.
“I am Balrac, of Tyrant’s Hill, vassal of Mogdred. We demand a tribute for your safe journey through the Narrows!”
The Fellowship fumbled and wondered what to do, when out stepped Milo, holding a gleaming gem.
“This ought to cover it!”
The men of Mogdred with widened eye accepted the gem and disappeared into the Narrows with a joke on their lips about taking gems from a baby, and news of Orcs about the area.
The Company made it to Ceawin’s Hall, presented the gifts, and deeply impressed the Members of the Great Hall of East Bight with their deeds on the trip and of their efforts to secure the goodwill gifts for the East Bight. The sacred event turned festive as Milo sang to the crowd and the ale flowed. The night grew long, so did the song, and the Halls of the East Bight rang with the goodwill of men.
2947 (Part 2)
WOW, I forgot to update this, there has been a lot going on in the game in the last nearly 4 years. Read on, hope you enjoy!!!
***
With the Fall of the Year drawing close, the Company decided to return to Woodman Hall with news of their successful endeavor. Traveling through the Narrows was no quick, or easy, task, but they managed it with little problem. Arriving nearly a month later in Woodman Hall (after stops at Rhosghobel and Woodman Town), they delivered the news of their adventures and were enthusiastically greeted by their Kin there.
As the winter months were dawning, the Eagle, the Archer, the Healer, and Milo retired to their respective homes. The Archer stayed in Woodman Hall, the Eagle to Woodman Town, the Healer to Rhosghobel, and Milo to the Shire.
The progress of month piled up like the snow, and thawed like the spring. During the time the Healer sought the counsel of Rhadaghast regarding the unity of the Woodmen. Though Rhadaghast was not available for long, they did manage to speak at various points through the winter at various festivals.
"Dear Rhadaghast, I am of a mind to unite the Woodman."
"That, dear Healer, is a great desire." Rhadaghast said while handing out treats to some of the children clustered about him.
"Yes, it involves the creation of a weapon that can be a focus of Woodman pride and power."
"Indeed." Rhadaghast raised then lowered his brow, "You're desire is good, but it may not be your destiny. Do not confuse the two - another did that long ago - and world yet bears his dark marks."
The arrival of Spring 2948 brought new hope, new goods, and new friends.
***
With the Fall of the Year drawing close, the Company decided to return to Woodman Hall with news of their successful endeavor. Traveling through the Narrows was no quick, or easy, task, but they managed it with little problem. Arriving nearly a month later in Woodman Hall (after stops at Rhosghobel and Woodman Town), they delivered the news of their adventures and were enthusiastically greeted by their Kin there.
As the winter months were dawning, the Eagle, the Archer, the Healer, and Milo retired to their respective homes. The Archer stayed in Woodman Hall, the Eagle to Woodman Town, the Healer to Rhosghobel, and Milo to the Shire.
The progress of month piled up like the snow, and thawed like the spring. During the time the Healer sought the counsel of Rhadaghast regarding the unity of the Woodmen. Though Rhadaghast was not available for long, they did manage to speak at various points through the winter at various festivals.
"Dear Rhadaghast, I am of a mind to unite the Woodman."
"That, dear Healer, is a great desire." Rhadaghast said while handing out treats to some of the children clustered about him.
"Yes, it involves the creation of a weapon that can be a focus of Woodman pride and power."
"Indeed." Rhadaghast raised then lowered his brow, "You're desire is good, but it may not be your destiny. Do not confuse the two - another did that long ago - and world yet bears his dark marks."
The arrival of Spring 2948 brought new hope, new goods, and new friends.
Moot Managing
April, then May arrived quickly, their stormy face frowning on the Western Eaves, and bellowing breath beating down on the Company as they met at the Woodman Hall at the request of Ignomer. They greeted each other with much regard, and noticed that one was not among them: Milo.
"Where has he gotten off to?" the Eagle mused.
The best they could ever determine was that his desire for home had overcome his desire for adventure. Others told it was a charming girl in his home town that meant more to him than gold. Nevertheless, the Company heard not of the name of Milo in their country again.
The hand of Ignomer greeted the Company and ushered them into his presence.
"Greetings all." Ignomer stood and placed his hand on his breast, the Company rejoined.
"Thank you for coming. As you know the Moot is to take place in the Summer. Already preparations have been made. Caravans from East and South are coming this way, however, more are to come."
"Yes My lord, and how may we assist in this matter?" The Healer stepped forward from the Company.
"My kinsmen, Hartfast, of Mountain Hall has reported bandits, or some disturbance near Wolfswood. I told him you would investigate and secure the road. Make your preparations in haste."
The company bowed and did so.
"Where has he gotten off to?" the Eagle mused.
The best they could ever determine was that his desire for home had overcome his desire for adventure. Others told it was a charming girl in his home town that meant more to him than gold. Nevertheless, the Company heard not of the name of Milo in their country again.
The hand of Ignomer greeted the Company and ushered them into his presence.
"Greetings all." Ignomer stood and placed his hand on his breast, the Company rejoined.
"Thank you for coming. As you know the Moot is to take place in the Summer. Already preparations have been made. Caravans from East and South are coming this way, however, more are to come."
"Yes My lord, and how may we assist in this matter?" The Healer stepped forward from the Company.
"My kinsmen, Hartfast, of Mountain Hall has reported bandits, or some disturbance near Wolfswood. I told him you would investigate and secure the road. Make your preparations in haste."
The company bowed and did so.
To Wolfswood
The preparations for travel made, the Companions headed West towards the Mountain Hall. Along they way they practiced their oratory, song, and strategic formulas. This cheered them on this mostly mundane trek.
Arriving at the Anduin near the beginning of June the Fellowship chartered a ferry across the river. From there it was but a short journey for by sunset the Company made it to the northern edge of Wolfswood. There they found a caravan from Mountain Hall camped out and joined with them for the evening.
Among the Mountain Hall company the Fellowship noted a small fellow liken to a missing friend: Milo. Upon further inquiry they learned that this little fellow, though of like stature to Milo, was another of his kind (albiet a bit larger): a hobbit, by the name of Obier. He offered his service as watch for the evening. Thus with the night's watch rotation determined the camp settled down.
Upon first watch the Archer noted little save for some deer and other animals streaming from the forest not more than a dozen yards from the encampment. Taking second watch Obier seemed to see some large shadow moving in the forest and decided to investigate. Gloom and shadow dimmed his sight, but the smell was unmistakable: Troll. Rousing the Archer, Eagle, and Healer, they Company proceeded deeper into the Wolfswood.
Slowly they crept and kept to the trees as they wandered every closer towards the bowels of the small forest. The stench grew, and the men of Mountain Hall quivered. With some bright words the Eagle encouraged their hearts, though their faces remained dark even in this shadowy place. An unfortunate snap of a twig by the Healer's misplaced foot brought a stone the size of large watermelon to appear from the darkness. Crashing and rolling the stone came to rest at the foot of Obier.
"It is not far now. I think that troll is in the hole right there." Obier pointed to a dark opening not more than 50 paces from them.
"Indeed, no doubt, nothing but a Troll would smell like this.." The Archer pinched his nose.
"Nor throw a stone like that!" The Eagle stooped to the ground to examine the rock.
Refusing to breath hard the Fellowship waited silently for the space of a half an hour, then, without warning, the Healer pushed closer to the opening, and the rest followed. The men of the Mountain Hall refused to enter, but with a broad grin Obier led the Fellowship down the Troll hole. The dim light faded and they were in the darkest of holes, but their eyes adjusted, and they discovered - to their delight- the troll asleep. With a bright shout the Fellowship thrust forward upon their foe.
With a stab Obier awoke the beast, it stood, and bellowed.
The Healer's axe thudded on its chest, the Troll batted the mighty axe aside.
The Archer pierced the raging air with an arrow, sinking it into the Troll's thigh.
The Eagle swept his axe low, catching the thing's kneecap.
In return the Troll grabbed a large tree of a club bringing it down upon the Healer. The boom it created sent ripples of sound up through the tunnel. Back and forth the skirmish rang: with smashings from the Troll to slashings from the axes and swords, and twangs from bow.
Soon the creature was against the wall: wailing, stomping, and swinging. Obier plunged beneath its swipe, jumped up on its bended knee, scurred along its extended belly, to its throat, and planted his bright fierce blade deep into the Troll's thick neck.
As fate would have it, it was at this exact moment that the Men of the Mountain Hall, having gained the heart to venture it arrived, and witness the slaying of the Troll at the hand of one not bigger than his shin.
Arriving at the Anduin near the beginning of June the Fellowship chartered a ferry across the river. From there it was but a short journey for by sunset the Company made it to the northern edge of Wolfswood. There they found a caravan from Mountain Hall camped out and joined with them for the evening.
Among the Mountain Hall company the Fellowship noted a small fellow liken to a missing friend: Milo. Upon further inquiry they learned that this little fellow, though of like stature to Milo, was another of his kind (albiet a bit larger): a hobbit, by the name of Obier. He offered his service as watch for the evening. Thus with the night's watch rotation determined the camp settled down.
Upon first watch the Archer noted little save for some deer and other animals streaming from the forest not more than a dozen yards from the encampment. Taking second watch Obier seemed to see some large shadow moving in the forest and decided to investigate. Gloom and shadow dimmed his sight, but the smell was unmistakable: Troll. Rousing the Archer, Eagle, and Healer, they Company proceeded deeper into the Wolfswood.
Slowly they crept and kept to the trees as they wandered every closer towards the bowels of the small forest. The stench grew, and the men of Mountain Hall quivered. With some bright words the Eagle encouraged their hearts, though their faces remained dark even in this shadowy place. An unfortunate snap of a twig by the Healer's misplaced foot brought a stone the size of large watermelon to appear from the darkness. Crashing and rolling the stone came to rest at the foot of Obier.
"It is not far now. I think that troll is in the hole right there." Obier pointed to a dark opening not more than 50 paces from them.
"Indeed, no doubt, nothing but a Troll would smell like this.." The Archer pinched his nose.
"Nor throw a stone like that!" The Eagle stooped to the ground to examine the rock.
Refusing to breath hard the Fellowship waited silently for the space of a half an hour, then, without warning, the Healer pushed closer to the opening, and the rest followed. The men of the Mountain Hall refused to enter, but with a broad grin Obier led the Fellowship down the Troll hole. The dim light faded and they were in the darkest of holes, but their eyes adjusted, and they discovered - to their delight- the troll asleep. With a bright shout the Fellowship thrust forward upon their foe.
With a stab Obier awoke the beast, it stood, and bellowed.
The Healer's axe thudded on its chest, the Troll batted the mighty axe aside.
The Archer pierced the raging air with an arrow, sinking it into the Troll's thigh.
The Eagle swept his axe low, catching the thing's kneecap.
In return the Troll grabbed a large tree of a club bringing it down upon the Healer. The boom it created sent ripples of sound up through the tunnel. Back and forth the skirmish rang: with smashings from the Troll to slashings from the axes and swords, and twangs from bow.
Soon the creature was against the wall: wailing, stomping, and swinging. Obier plunged beneath its swipe, jumped up on its bended knee, scurred along its extended belly, to its throat, and planted his bright fierce blade deep into the Troll's thick neck.
As fate would have it, it was at this exact moment that the Men of the Mountain Hall, having gained the heart to venture it arrived, and witness the slaying of the Troll at the hand of one not bigger than his shin.
Re: East Bight and Down
The Men of Mountain Hall shuddered, fell to their knees, and bowed their heads to the hobbit. "We did not realize that one of your size was so keen with a sword. You have proven your worth as a man of war!" The Archer, Eagle, and Hunter patted Obier on the back, and the Mountain Men held him aloft on their shoulders.
"WAIT!" the Eagle rushed about the den, "If the legends are true, we shall find many a shining treasure in this place." Obier slipped from the upstretched arms of the Men of Mountain Hall. The rest of the company threw rotted food, dirt, foul cloth about searching the short recesses for anything glittering of Gold!
And they were rewarded. Richly. Even this black hole could not cloud the gleam of gems and gold. The pile they found was enough for many a lifetimes of ordinary men, but was a king's pittance. Nonetheless the Mountain Men let loose a shout, Obier did a small dance, the Healer whistled shortly, and the Eagle tumbled the priceless cache in his hands.
They day was nearly deep morning after they managed to collect their prize, as they had few sacks to carry the material in, yet they got it all. Not one gold coin escaped their hand. The walk back through the dim wood was lightened by both the rising sun, the victory, and the gold.
"This will make for an excellent story at the Moot!" the Mountain Man shoved his carried treasure onto the small wagon.
"Indeed, I think I will sing about the might Troll Slayer: ME!" Obier bowed to the Company.
"You will need to!" The Healer helped Obier stow his part of the treasure into the wagon.
"We will need to make haste, we only have about a week, we do not want to be late. Not for such a happy occasion!" the Eagle grabbed his traveling gear and prepared the ponies.
The trip back to Woodman Hall was quicker for having been that way before. They were familiar with the ferry, and the wilds that were between the Anduin and their homeland. That alone was not the only reason for the swiftness of the trip. Along the way they met various caravans and small groups who brought news and entertainment. From stories, to songs, to poems, and riddles, its seemed the Moot had already begun. The closer they inched towards Woodman Hall the greater their company became until the river Anduin was dwarfed by the River of Men that had swollen at its banks and broke out.
Arriving just in time to enjoy the beginning of the Moot the Fellowship spent the next two weeks enjoying both the Moot and the privileges it brought to show off their talents!!
"WAIT!" the Eagle rushed about the den, "If the legends are true, we shall find many a shining treasure in this place." Obier slipped from the upstretched arms of the Men of Mountain Hall. The rest of the company threw rotted food, dirt, foul cloth about searching the short recesses for anything glittering of Gold!
And they were rewarded. Richly. Even this black hole could not cloud the gleam of gems and gold. The pile they found was enough for many a lifetimes of ordinary men, but was a king's pittance. Nonetheless the Mountain Men let loose a shout, Obier did a small dance, the Healer whistled shortly, and the Eagle tumbled the priceless cache in his hands.
They day was nearly deep morning after they managed to collect their prize, as they had few sacks to carry the material in, yet they got it all. Not one gold coin escaped their hand. The walk back through the dim wood was lightened by both the rising sun, the victory, and the gold.
"This will make for an excellent story at the Moot!" the Mountain Man shoved his carried treasure onto the small wagon.
"Indeed, I think I will sing about the might Troll Slayer: ME!" Obier bowed to the Company.
"You will need to!" The Healer helped Obier stow his part of the treasure into the wagon.
"We will need to make haste, we only have about a week, we do not want to be late. Not for such a happy occasion!" the Eagle grabbed his traveling gear and prepared the ponies.
The trip back to Woodman Hall was quicker for having been that way before. They were familiar with the ferry, and the wilds that were between the Anduin and their homeland. That alone was not the only reason for the swiftness of the trip. Along the way they met various caravans and small groups who brought news and entertainment. From stories, to songs, to poems, and riddles, its seemed the Moot had already begun. The closer they inched towards Woodman Hall the greater their company became until the river Anduin was dwarfed by the River of Men that had swollen at its banks and broke out.
Arriving just in time to enjoy the beginning of the Moot the Fellowship spent the next two weeks enjoying both the Moot and the privileges it brought to show off their talents!!
- Robin Smallburrow
- Posts: 564
- Joined: Mon May 13, 2013 10:35 am
- Location: Melbourne, Australia
Re: East Bight and Down
Great Stuff, but I am sure i speak for a lot here in the forum wondering what the hobbit PC rolled to take down a troll?? This has come up before too amazingly!
You weren't using the 'original' rules for King's Blade were you??? ( been revised in the revised edition).
Robin S.
You weren't using the 'original' rules for King's Blade were you??? ( been revised in the revised edition).
Robin S.
To access all my links for my TOR Resources - please click on this link >> http://bit.ly/1gjXkCo
Re: East Bight and Down
Thank you. Glad you are enjoying my scribblings!
If I remember correctly this is what happened:
It was like 2-3 rounds. Each round ALL the players rolled great or extraordinary success - which means by the round 2 the troll was about about 15-20 endurance left. And the Hobbit rolled another extraordinary success doing like 15-20 points of damage.
Enough to kill the thing that is. It was amazing, it floored all of us (and the Hobbit has like a body of 5)
d
If I remember correctly this is what happened:
It was like 2-3 rounds. Each round ALL the players rolled great or extraordinary success - which means by the round 2 the troll was about about 15-20 endurance left. And the Hobbit rolled another extraordinary success doing like 15-20 points of damage.
Enough to kill the thing that is. It was amazing, it floored all of us (and the Hobbit has like a body of 5)
d
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