Dale in the Fourth Age: Session One, "DEWy-eyed novices"

Dramatis Personae:

Arewe, Woman of Rohan: Ranger 1 (appleciders)
Bruno Honeysett, Man of the Beornings: Fighter 1 (What Exit?)
Elihu "Eli" Proudfoot, Male Hobbit of the Shire: Rogue (Scout) 1(Elendil's Heir)
Gade Cooper, woodsman of Rhovanion: Druid 1 (Stebb)
Rowena Ticehurst, Woman of Dale: Bard 1 (choie)
Tom Gamgee, Male Hobbit of the Great River: Sorcerer (Arcane Bloodline) 1 (glee)

EXTERIOR, South of Dale, day.

A group of strangers are wandering along the banks of the Forest River that runs from distant Greenwood into the Long Lake some short distance north of Dale. The reason can be traced back to the previous night, where a surprise (but very welcome) feast had broken out on an unseasonably warm night only a week into the New Year...

(aside: Dale adopted the custom of beginning the New Year on the 25th of March at the end of the Third Age, just as Gondor did: to commemorate the destruction of the One Ring and the downfall of Sauron, and the end of the War of the Ring)

+ + + + +

The inn-yard behind the Dragonfall Tavern was crowded, partly because it was a fine evening in early Spring after a spell of cool, damp weather had opportunely given way to a warm spell, and partly because a suddenly-announced free ox-roast and, at least, the first kegs of wine and ale also free until they were drunk dry, was cause enough for celebration without further question. Amid the bustle there were a collection of strangers: a couple of hobbits who had never met before and each of whom apparently considered the other's homeland nothing more than a story, a tall woman who wore a green tabard with a white horse a-prance upon it, and a large, massively muscled, dark-haired man from far away who was contentedly making up for months of travel on short rations and seemed, on the whole, to dismiss the music and chatter as an unnecessary and unimportant distraction.

As the evening wore on they all found themselves gravitating towards a fiddle-playing local girl who seemed more than pleased to welcome them to her fair city, and soon was spinning tales about many things, not least why the Dragonfall Tavern was so named:

"Aye, so, in the long past Dale was as fair as it is today, until the wicked worm from the North descended on first the town and then on the mountain to the north where the Dwarves lived. They live there again now; but for many lives of men 'twasn't so, and there was only the legend that the Mountain-King would come back. Oh yes, there were still Men here to tell such tales. They lived on a town in the lake itself, built on wooden pilings; for, d'you see, the Dragon couldn't come at them that way. He could fly, but not land in the narrow streets or on the flimsy roofs of Lake-Town, and between the town and the shore was more than enough cold water to quench every spark in him if he tried to come that way. So they lived there for many a year, always with half an eye on the Mountain, and the Dragon mostly left them alone.

"Then the dwarves came back and stirred up the Dragon, and after all he came to burn the town if he couldn't enter it, and the Men shot all their arrows at it without harm, for he was all covered in dragon-scale and whole layers of hard precious stones from the bed that he lay on in the Mountain - a great heap of all the dwarves' treasure. But at the last, one archer named Bard downed him. 'Twas a mighty shot with a mighty arrow, and a mighty good hint from a bird that perched on his shoulder and whispered it in his ear - No, 'tis true! Whispered the secret of a single soft spot near the Dragon's heart, which the good Bard struck fair and true with his last shot. And the stories go that 'twas one of your kind, Little Masters, that found out the secret.

"Well, there was much ado after the fall of the Dragon, but at the last it was better times for the Men of Dale, who came back and rebuilt their city, and Bard was the King, and it's now the fourth after him that wears the crown - and a long life and good health to him! - but as to that 'much ado', that's a tale that must wait for a time when my throat's not so dry."

The fiddler drained several more cups with that good company, and later said "You know, there's a trail that follows the way those Dwarves came, from under the eaves of Greenwood and later right up to the Mountain itself; and there's a fair memorial at the Mountain to him that afterwards was the King under the Mountain and to our good King Brand, son's son of King Bard, where they fell during the later war. It's reckoned a sight worth seeing, if you've the mind and a good guide."

Being in a mood where such suggestions were easily entertained, the little group pledged to make the pilgrimage together, and met up the following morning with such travelling gear as they possessed, to say naught of a good will to take some exercise in the fresh air outside town that might ease heads a-pound and stomachs a little tender after the excesses of the night before, and they were on their way before the sun was high in the sky.

On the previous night, it had crossed the minstrel Rowena's mind to wonder why it was feast-time all of a sudden, and she did have an enquiring word in an ear or two...

But we'll come back to that also.

+ + + + +

With the sun at noon or something very like it, at last a good honest appetite is beginning to return, and the travellers are setting themselves to prepare a proper meal after being too jaded for more than a very light breakfast. Bruno, who makes light of the burden, quickly rigs a sturdy iron pot on its three-legged stand and then sets about splitting wood for Elihu to build a fire, while the two bow-women go to see if there be a little fresh meat to be had or if they must make do with the dry stuff they have with them; and Tom Gamgee, who's to be the camp cook, goes down to the river for water...

At which a shadow falls upon him, and as he turns to see what is between him and the sun, a great brown shape descends with a plummet and pulls up sharply above his head, before perching on a very stout bough and fixing him with the steely glint of one amber-and-black eye that gazes intently down a long, hooked beak that seems as though it could have ripped the hobbit limb from limb had its owner meant harm. Instead it only grooms the feathers of one long wing, while the creature - vastly bigger than poor Tom Gamgee - seems to wait to see what the hobbit will do next.

Tom had been feeling rather excited both at the chance to visit the Mountain that dominated the view hereabouts and also see where the legendary Bilbo Baggins had been. (Although Tom is strictly a local lad, he has heard tales of hobbit achievements in the last century.)
Also he has the chance to make some new friends!

Now however all these thoughts are swiftly put aside as he nervously considers the giant 'bird' in front of him.

He carefully raises his hands in the universal gesture of peace / surrender and says (first in Common, then in Elvish) "Hello, I am Tom. Do you speak?"
Meanwhile he tries to use his Skill of Knowledge (Arcana) to see if that helps him work out what creature (monster?!) he is facing.

(Tom also tries to work out how far away his new friends are - in case he decides to call for help later...)

Bruno forages for edible and tasty greens and mushrooms. He is an omnivore but prefers to not eat mammals and birds when possible.

(the bird does not appear to be arcane, just an eagle built to an unusually large scale. From his time over-wintering with the Elves Tom has certainly heard of such things...)

Tom is rather relieved that he's facing a Giant Eagle, not a legendary monster from tales (e.g. a Roc.)
He has a vague memory that these birds helped the Dwarves and Bilbo on their journey to the Mountain...

If the Eagle doesn't speak, Tom will carefully look around for some food he could offer the bird.

If he sees any of his new friends nearby, he will cautiously try to attract their attention.

(Although Tom is still a little scared by the huge animal, part of his mind is getting excited. This could be ... the start of an adventure!)

"I do indeed speak, Tom - and you may call me Westerly, like the wind, as I doubt you could pronounce my real name - but sadly some do not always wait to find out." The creature spreads its wings to their fullest extent, showing off a nasty-looking scratch down its left flank, raw but no longer bleeding.

+ + + +

As Bruno forages for mushrooms, a small family of badgers darts from cover, apparently in some hurry to be elsewhere. In the tussocky undergrowth from whence they came, Bruno spots the hollow stump of a fair-sized tree, with edible-looking fungi growing on its bark.

Tom knows his Heal Skill is poor, but inspects the wound anyway to see if he can help at all. (He has a vague idea that he can stop bleeding - but that has already happened in this case.)

Next he explains to Westerly that there is a Druid nearby and he hurries off to find Gade (making a mental note that when the party have time, they should briefly explain their abilities to each other.)

Arewe has noticed a large bird descending roughly in the direction where Tom went, and a short time later the hobbit's distressed squeaking for help can be heard by all.

Axe at the ready, Bruno will head over fast but as he gets close, try to be stealthy.

Elihu "Eli" Proudfoot is the youngest of five sons of the estimable Octavian and Anna Proudfoot. A puckish, rather handsome redhead, he loves beautiful women, hearty food, good drink and bad puns. He once served as a Deputy Shirriff for the Northfarthing, winning some renown after saving two children from a house fire, but he later hastily resigned for undisclosed reasons. There were those who whispered that he'd had simultaneous affairs with both the comely wife and the even comelier eldest daughter of the First Shirriff, but sure, he'll not boast about that now, nor even willingly confess to it, having thereafter been compelled to leave the Shire on short notice and under, one might tactfully say, less than ideal circumstances.

He then joined the Royal Army of Arnor as a scout and served capably for several years, ranging far beyond the Shire. He was severely wounded in an orc attack but made a full recovery, and eventually rose to the rank of serjeant. Upon completing his enlistment, he went a-wandering but, alas, fell in with bad company in Bree and the vicinity for awhile before coming at last, by various misadventures, to Dale.

Eli now wants to make a fresh start, see more of the world and perhaps earn his fortune before someday - with a bit of luck and the healing passage of time - returning to the Shire.

But today, hearing Tom's distress, he drops his flint and steel, draws his short sword and swiftly but quietly makes his way towards the commotion.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by What Exit?

Axe at the ready, Bruno will head over fast but as he gets close, try to be stealthy.

---

Clad in a hauberk overlaid with metal flakes not unlike fishes' mail in appearance, Bruno successfully makes rather less noise than if he were cowbelled, but sees as he draws near a large bird perched on the single sturdy limb of a tree not yet in leaf. It looks like one of the great birds sometimes seen a-wing near The Carrock, though it is the first that he has seen at such close quarters; and while he is no great student of animal lore for the most part, Bruno knows these birds do not normally victimise Men or their near kindred, even if they have little love for the orc-kind.

Rowena looks up from her kneeling position, where she's been trying to dislodge a pebble or acorn or something exceedingly hard and irritating from the bottom of one of her soft leather boots. She's been hoping to free herself of this bloody annoyance without untying the laces, which criss-cross their way up her calf to hide beneath her long tunic and atop her stockings. No joy so far.

The young Hobbit's distress wrests her attention away from her own mild ire. She stands and edges in the direction of the sound, casting a quick glance at the taller woman not far away before deciding she should act. Instinctively she pulls an arrow from her quiver and prepares to nock it in readiness for... whatever bad thing seems to be happening. Rowena doesn't know what it is, but her imagination can create a library's worth of scary circumstances--even in daytime, even in such benign surroundings.

She walks with both care and haste toward the currently nameless bad thing.

Quickly restringing her bow, Arewe slips into the undergrowth, moving towards the noise as stealthily as she can-- which is not particularly stealthily, but still.

Gade Cooper, a tall and imposing if somewhat untidy man hears the still unfamiliar sound of other folk nearby and aided by his naturally alert nature, approaches stealthily, guided by his owl companion (Aster the Owl) towards the the sounds they both hear. Naturally he fears for the creatures of the wild more than the people (who are mostly trouble and best avoided). With (wild) empathy and healing in mind he approaches using his long quarter staff to guide his (hopefully) silent steps but ready to use it in combat should it be needed.

Bruno moves forward and in a gruff voice, "Hey, Wood Wizard, do you need help?"

Gade is keener on nature than people (kind of a Paladin of Nature if there were such a thing) but is equally keen to find out what is disturbing the animals around here which is why he's taken to adventuring and is making the best of what must be done regards people. He is quite quietly spoken with a sing song voice that wouldn't be out of place in a dawn chorus but direct and having lived in only his small family group for his whole life in the woods does not understand the subtlety of speech. (Stebb attempts to explain Gades ruthless honesty / rudeness!).

Replies to Bruno in his quit and strangely sing song voice, "I've never knowingly needed help yet and don't mean to start now but tag along if you will, just keep your hulk out of the way and be quiet until I've worked out what mischief is at work here". (Knowledge Nature if that helps at all Malacandra)

Tom is relieved to hear and see that his new companions are converging on himself and Westerly.
He calls to the party "This noble and friendly Eagle is called Westerly and requires healing!"

He then calmly heads back to his new flying friend.

Eli sheaths his sword, steps out into the open and cautiously approaches his fellow hobbit and the giant bird. He has never seen an Eagle this close before. "You're all right then, Tom?" he asks.

Bruno knows the Great Eagles are less natural animals and more another of the free peoples but using his animal handling skills he approaches and talks soothingly to a potential friend.

"Hail and well met Westerly, we will aid you. Can you speak of what happened?"

The Eagle (and he is definitely a capital-E Eagle) allows Gade to approach and inspect the wound. It is more ugly than serious and does not appear to be poisoned or infected; Gade's brow furrows and he sorrowfully asks a one-word question: "Arrow?" :(

Westerly says "Yes. Thank you, I will speak of aid in a moment.

"This morning I was slope-soaring in a favourite spot of mine, to the north of here where when the wind is in the right quarter coming over the ridge it is possible to sail from the nap of the earth to a lofty vantage whence the Misty Mountains themselves may be descried, and all without stirring more than an errant feather, before plummeting at speed to begin the whole cycle again. It is an excellent recreation and brings much ease to the heart. Usually.

"I had just recovered from a swoop and was spreading myself for a fresh ascent when I felt a sudden blow and realized that I had been struck! I made out one of your kind -- female I think, but I cannot always tell one from the other at a brief glance -- a few score paces away with a great bow in her hand, screaming something that I did not discern amid the shock. Instead I flew off in some haste, as much to wrap a strong talon around my temper as anything else. I inspected the hurt and found I could grip the arrow firmly, and that it was not deeply embedded nor one of the cruel kind which turns you inside out when you pull on it.

"Sun and fresh air have done their work on the wound and I need no healing that time will not accomplish, but it is much to me that you thought to offer and more that you will lend aid without waiting to hear what I need. This already will be remembered with gratitude. I do ask more, however:

"The place of this offence is easily found; it is a broad and pleasant vale where sheep are farmed -- though for my part the mountain sheep are sweeter and there are many on the upper slopes of the Iron Hills that are free to any who can come at them; goats too, most agile and ingenious creatures, but worth a little trouble -- But this is by the bye. Find this bow-wielder and cause her, or him, to understand that shooting my kind is wrong. When you are successful, light a fire that sends forth much white smoke. I will see it and come to you."

(When Aster caught sight of this immense bird, he gave an excited hoot! and flew at once to perch between Westerly's feet. He has not stirred since.)

To Westerly - "You are noble and wise Westerly and I see have a friend in my Aster. I shall seek this troublesome woman and educate her as to her wrongs".

To the party - "Well met, you seem unusual amongst the peoples of the land in offering your help to this wonder of the world and I thank you. Will you join me in seeking this woman to teach her to mind where her arrows fly?"

Tom excitedly puts his hand up. "I want to find whoever injured Westerly too!"

He thinks for a bit then adds "If most or all of this group are going, then surely we need a 'recipe for success'. What I mean by that is that we need to know what 'ingredients' each of us can offer, so we can combine and make 'a delicious dish'."

He points at himself. "I'll start - I'm a Sorcerer, which means I can cast magical missile attacks. I can also detect magic as often as we need. But I'm hopeless at melee, so need to stay away from trouble (and hopefully have somebody nearby in case I get attacked.) If you're coming with Gade and myself, then please let us know what you are good at and where you fit in during combat."

Having initially gawped somewhat uncouthly at the sight of the massive Eagle, Rowena has hurriedly lowered and re-quivered her bow and arrow. She listens in awe at Westerly's nobly told tale while walking forward at a respectful (and, truth be told, rather wary) pace.

The word quest! flashes in her mind once the story is complete. Since her earliest years, Rowena has found solace, company and purpose--and, eventually, a prospective livelihood--in stirring tales of adventure, most of which were taught to her by a much-respected Bard. Too long has her mentor been gone from her side--on some commission somewhere, with barely a word to the girl whom he's practically raised. True, while left to bide her time alone here in Dale, Rowena has enjoyed herself and added coins to her purse. Still, she can't deny feeling restless.

She started the day on a simple hope of accompanying this group of strangers to further enrichment--guiding them to a possible treasure seemed likely to earn her something shiny. Now here's something even better: not just a reward, although that thought's occurred to her too, but an adventure in which she can play her part.

Ah yes, she thinks, already rhapsodic: A quest for justice! With a cruel villain... no, perhaps not a true villain at that. (Rowena cannot help editing herself even at this stage.) Perhaps they will find this nameless archer to be something better than a mere villain: A damsel herself wronged, with her own wound that demands vengeance! Why, those few words themselves deserve a melody ...which she's composing even now...

Tom's impassioned speech only enhances her musical musings. She steps forward with an eager impulse. "I am no warrior, but I pledge to join you, and guide you there, if my knowledge of the land can assist. But my truest assistance, if I may say, is my ability to sway angry or bitter hearts with words and tune."

With the sudden recognition of how, well, weak her skills sound--she's speaking to people of action, after all, all of whom seem many years older than herself--Rowena bites her lip. She might be taller than the Hobbits, but there's no denying how small and inexperienced she is.

Inhaling to enhance her courage, she turns to the others and tries to look solemn, worldly and brave simultaneously. "I can be very persuasive," she vows.

Bruno simply growls, "Aye, let's do this."

OOC: Tom should feel honoured - by Bruno's standards this is impassioned speechifying! As to the tactical discussion, his body language doubtless says "Lad, I'm a big man wi' big axe - tha'll think o' summat"

Westerly says "You do wisely to plan well in advance, rather than when the emergency is upon you -- still, I will be just as pleased if you can resolve matters peacefully. I look for understanding, not vengeance."

He spreads his wings, adding "Take good care of your little friend!" before rising into the air with grace little marred by his injury, and it is a few moments before Gade realizes that he was addressing the owl.

Aster gives a soft hoot and flies back to perch on the druid's shoulder.

OOC: For those who have read The Wind in the Willows, the reaction of the Mole and the Water-Rat at the climax of "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" was much the same .

In his surprising sing song voice"For my part I can offer some healing and if we need light or water I can help with that too. I have some tricks that may surprise any foes and a trusty book of magics that I can use with a little preparation. If all else fails I am a big man (6"3") with a big stick (Swishes quarterstaff with all the expertises he can muster) and no patience for those that would damage nature or my loyal friend (looks to Aster). Aster here is my companion and a good scout with his keen eyes and stealthy as well as a few ticks which may come in useful. Those that would harm nature of my friends will find me as short in temper as most of you seem in stature (Laughs at his own 'joke uncertainly and in his funny sing song way)"

OOC: : Gade is not used to the company of anything other than his family having lived in the woods in isolation most of his life but seems keen if a little awkward to make friends with those that seem of like mind...

OOC: Not sure if Gade noticed Arewe or Eli notching arrows / drawing swords.. If he did he will explain a gently as he knows how that empathy and approaching without threat with the a creatures is a wiser choice than drawing weapons as most mean humans no harm.

While the tactical discussion continues, the little group moves off Northwards. They find the going soft underfoot and soon, to their inconvenience, the ground becomes boggy. Surprisingly, this worsens as they move further away from the Forest River; whether this is because some enchantment of the Elves keeps the river-banks firm and amenable to foot traffic, or simply some natural feature of the terrain, or because some people now gone drained the lands close to the River and only those, is unknown. It does become plain, though, that it will be difficult to reach the distant hillcrest before sundown, trivial as the distance may have seemed to the swift-winged Eagle.

There is this to their comfort at least: the first week in May is rather too soon for midges.

Eli cannot help but wonder if perhaps the unknown archer had some good, or at least excusable, reason for loosing an arrow at the great Eagle, but keeps his own counsel after saying, "I am an experienced scout and have some other talents, as well. I will gladly go with you, and hope I may be of service to this impressive party."

Tom thanks the party for the valuable information about their skills.
He suggests that we need to plan ahead for:

- marching order
- combat
- night watches

Does Eli feel comfortable scouting ahead? Would Gade feel happy using Aster as a flying scout?
Presumably Bruno would be happy at the front, especially for combat? Would Arewe like to join him there?
Tom would like to be in the middle - would Rowena be comfortable there?
That would leave Gade guarding the rear - is that suitable?

Does this marching order also reflect our layout for combat?

Tom would be happy to take one of three night watches, preferably with a fighting type...

"I grew up as a scout, but unhorsed and in this thick brush, I trust not my eyes in this. I will be proud to stand at the front with Master Bruno."

"Yes, the middle is fine, if I can be of any use there," Rowena assures Tom, remaining outwardly cheerful despite despairing of her boots' surviving this slog. She wishes she'd taken them off when she was only dealing with a pebble. (Or acorn. Or whatever.) That'll teach her for not properly gearing up for anything more than a fairly well-traveled path.

She currently has two goals: First, she'd like to hum or sing something quietly that might help morale in any small way. Even if just her own!

Second, she needs to muster her spirits and strengths in order to be useful. Does her knowledge of this part of the realm include any better way toward their destination?

OOC: Is that clear enough/in the correct form? Am I allowed to make two requests?

OOC: That's just fine, choie

Rowena does what she can to keep everyone's spirits up with a catchy hiking song, to which even the grumpiest member of the sextet cannot quite help humming or singing alone; which is just as well, as it is beginning to be tiresome having to pick a painfully slow way through shin-deep muddy water or now and then help one or other of the hobbits to dry ground. Still, both Eli and Tom seem to suffer less than might have been expected, Eli showing something of a scout's eye for ground and Tom apparently familiar with boggy ground near a river. Arewe in particular dislikes the going, so unlike the pleasant rolling grasslands of her home where, whatever hostiles she might have had to deal with, she could at least see them coming.

While Rowena doesn't know the geography hereabouts well enough to suggest an alternative, it comes as a relief after a while when Gade, who has been having a good look around as well as encouraging Aster to make a series of short flights to see what if anything can be seen from aloft, spots what seems to be some piling driven into the ground a little to the right of the party's track to date. It may mark a path through the marshland or even a causeway.

Bruno quietly takes up an alert position at the front of the party, keep an eye out for signs of others passing this way and generally trying to be somewhat quiet and observant. He'll occasionally glares at the Rowena but is somewhat embarrassed to be humming to the tune.

Gade is happy as rear guard and Aster is indeed a fine scout as long as he can use his fine eyesight, when it comes to tracking by smell or ground signs we will need another plan but for now at least Aster can scout in this difficult place. When it comes to watches, Dusk and Dawn are Asters favourite times so either end of the watch schedule suits best.

It looks like the party has agreement on the marching order (and probably combat too):

- Bruno and Arawe at the front
- Tom and Rowena in the middle
- Gade and Eli guarding the rear

In suitable areas (e.g. open ground), Aster can look ahead.

I thought Eli would be up ahead as a scout?

Eli is very welcome to scout ahead (Tom was just waiting for confirmation!)

So now we are marching:

- Eli scouting (assisted by Aster when appropriate)
- Bruno and Arawe at the front
- Tom and Rowena in the middle
- Gade guarding the rear

Sensing that the small band has had its spirits lifted as much as is likely, Rowena fades away from the hiking song, leaving it to those who've been singing along.

Her voice gets tired out--and thus less effective--the more times she uses it. And not only that: several years of learning a wide variety of tales, songs or poems have led her to discover a curious pattern: after precisely seven performances, her energy and something elusive to define, but what her mentor calls "stage presence"--he used to be part of an acting troupe--flag. And while listeners still enjoy the tunes, there's no doubt she's not exactly mesmerizing them.

So, by now, Rowena's learned to fall silent rather than push herself and ruin her throat. One good rest overnight is enough to refresh her.

On the other hand, none of this means she can't talk. Right now, Rowena is curious about the strangers. Aside from Tom, they seem a relatively quiet bunch. She vows to get them speaking. How can she eventually write a ballad of this quest if she can't even add personalities to the protagonists?

She slogs forward a few paces until she's within earshot of the only other female in the group. "My lady of Rohan," she begins, properly awed by Arawe's demeanor and bearing. "We haven't had much conversation, even when we went looking for coneys and the like. I'm hoping you'll--"

Another glare from the Beorning cuts her off. Rowena can't help the anxiety that runs through her at being the target of such an imposing figure's ire. He is attractive, though, in a hirsute, rugged way. Since arriving in Dale, and for some reason instructed by her mentor not to leave until he returned, she's spent most of her time in the company of callow young louts--friendly ones, even handsome ones (and don't they know it!), but louts notwithstanding. Bruno the Beorning could not possibly be more different.

"All right," she murmurs to Arawe. "That's the fifth time this afternoon he's done that. Am I offending him somehow, do you think? I sure wouldn't want to get on his bad side." After a little shudder, she raises her voice to be more conversational.

"Sorry for the digression. I was gonna ask... What brings you to Dale? I've heard enough songs, sang 'em too, about the Rohirrim." She takes a quick measure of the taller woman. "You all seem so, what's the word... regal? Your crest as well as your homeland make me think you're a horsewoman, maybe even of noble birth. Yet you're on foot." Rowena gestures deferentially. "I'd be grateful to learn what you're looking for, so far from your realm."

Arawe's reply may have to wait for a moment. Up ahead, Elihu has been checking out the path a couple of score paces ahead of the party, warning of soft spots or (in places where the path has been planked) the odd dodgy-looking board that might give way if Bruno trusted his full mail-clad weight to it. Now he can be seen to drop to one knee and hold up a hand to indicate possible danger ahead, and after giving the others a few moments to halt, he comes scurrying back.

"A body," he murmurs in an undertone; "sized right for one of you Big People, face-down to the right of the path no more than a spear's throw. Doesn't seem to be moving."

Bruno will cautiously approach. Scanning around for ambush. If he sees none and no one stops him he will get to 7' away, "Hey, are you alive, do you need help?"

Is the person breathing?

Quote:

---

Originally posted by choie

She slogs forward a few paces until she's within earshot of the only other female in the group. "My lady of Rohan," she begins, properly awed by Arawe's demeanor and bearing. "We haven't had much conversation, even when we went looking for coneys and the like. I'm hoping you'll--"

Another glare from the Beorning cuts her off. Rowena can't help the anxiety that runs through her at being the target of such an imposing figure's ire. He is attractive, though, in a hirsute, rugged way. Since arriving in Dale, and for some reason instructed by her mentor not to leave until he returned, she's spent most of her time in the company of callow young louts--friendly ones, even handsome ones (and don't they know it!), but louts notwithstanding. Bruno the Beorning could not possibly be more different.

"All right," she murmurs to Arawe. "That's the fifth time this afternoon he's done that. Am I offending him somehow, do you think? I sure wouldn't want to get on his bad side." After a little shudder, she raises her voice to be more conversational.

"Sorry for the digression. I was gonna ask... What brings you to Dale? I've heard enough songs, sang 'em too, about the Rohirrim." She takes a quick measure of the taller woman. "You all seem so, what's the word... regal? Your crest as well as your homeland make me think you're a horsewoman, maybe even of noble birth. Yet you're on foot." Rowena gestures deferentially. "I'd be grateful to learn what you're looking for, so far from your realm."

---

"Nay, Northwoman, I know little of this man. He is not, I think, a Ranger of the North; I have met such men before, and though many suppose them sparing with words, they are loose-tongued compared to our companion and perhaps more elegant of bearing, being so often in Rivendell. I sought to ask thee about him; a part of my purpose here in the North country is to learn, as we in Rohan may travel East or South, but rarely North.

"And think thou I am regal? Nay, nor noble, though my family does descend from a King of Rohan a thousand years before, as do most of the Rohirrim. The green field on my crest is available to any Rohirrim, a sign but of the grass of Rohan, and the white horse but a place-holder for the sigil I shall earn as a Shieldmaiden.

"And my purpose in the North--" Arewe is cut off by Eli's signal, and truthfully she's relieved to not need to explain that she had not been accepted by the Riders.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by Malacandra

Arawe's reply may have to wait for a moment. Up ahead, Elihu has been checking out the path a couple of score paces ahead of the party, warning of soft spots or (in places where the path has been planked) the odd dodgy-looking board that might give way if Bruno trusted his full mail-clad weight to it. Now he can be seen to drop to one knee and hold up a hand to indicate possible danger ahead, and after giving the others a few moments to halt, he comes scurrying back.

"A body," he murmurs in an undertone; "sized right for one of you Big People, face-down to the right of the path no more than a spear's throw. Doesn't seem to be moving."

---

Arewe will step forward with Bruno, but as the man seeks to check the health of the man on the ground, she'll train her attention to the surrounding mud and brush, looking for tracks that might shed light on what left this man injured (hopefully only injured) at the side of the path. Her hand strays almost without intention to rest on the hilt of her short-sword.

OOC: I know out of character that Bruno is a Beorning, but is that a thing that would be visibly identifiable, or something that he's public about?

Tom assumes that someone may be responsible for the body ... and he is on guard for them suddenly appearing. (He likes the careful approach of our front line.)

Hopefully the fellow is just drunk!

Chilled, though the weather is mild enough, Rowena takes a hesitant step forward. Those who spoke are closer than she is, so they must know already, but she asks softly: "Is this a man or woman?"

She doesn't move closer, not being particularly keen to see a dead body--if dead he or she is. Despite all the battle tales she's learned and recited in thrilling, violent glory, Rowena is not an adventurer. In her 18 years, she's viewed a few poor souls, true, but not enough to be inured to them. And she's not certain she wants to add another, at least not yet. Please let this person be merely ill, someone we can rouse somehow, she prays.

She also wonders, as far-fetched as it might seem... could this be connected to the hysterical archer who harmed Westerly?

Eli will look around quickly but carefully to see if there are any concealed foes before approaching the body. If the person has not answered Bruno, he will use any nearby long stick to gently poke it.

OOC: As I understand it, Bruno and Eli are near the prone body, the others are no nearer than about 20' away. I will tend to count in 5' increments rather than seven, but we don't need to fuss too much about that. The body, Bruno, and Eli, are all off the path, where it is boggy underfoot. You are in no visible danger of sinking but you cannot move as freely as if you were on "solid" ground. In-game, the term for this is "difficult terrain".

As Bruno and Eli inspect the body, there is a squelching sound from close at hand. They look up to see, emerging from the tussocky bog grasses and shrubs, a weird plant standing almost as high as a man, with three long tendrils -- a good deal longer than the plant's own height -- bearing spiked heads not unlike those of a teasel. The plant itself, contrary to the experience of most of you to date, seems able to move itself through the boggy terrain, and the tendrils seem to quiver, and not with the wind (of which there is next to none), though they rest mostly on the ground. There is a highly disagreeable smell borne on the air, as though from the midden of a fish-gutter's workshop.

OOC: I chose 7' to be out of easy reach with a wpn with a 5' reach, so treat as 10' I guess.

Bruno prepares to back away or charge swinging axe waiting on the Druid to say something. This is well outside his knowledge.

If Tom (a local lad) recognises this fearsome plant as dangerous, he will call out to the party "Danger!" and fire a Magic Missile at the plant.)

If he doesn't recognise it, he will use his Skill Knowledge (Arcana) to see if it is a Magical creature.

If Tom doesn't know what it is, he will take his lead from Gabe the Druid.

(In any case, Tom is pleased that he considered that something might erupt out of the ground. :woowoo: )

OOC: Tom is not as local as all that - he comes from the far side of Greenwood the Great and a fair bit further south

Not recognising the strange plant as magical, Tom reverts to option C.

OOC: Awaiting input from the others...

Rowena's eyes goggle at the sight of the...plant? Creature that looks like a plant? Out of nowhere she has a flash of memory of many nights over the years spent singing the whimsical ballad of the legendary Walking Tree of Dahomey--a guaranteed laugh-getter among crowds. Even now she's perilously close to a nervous giggle.

Annoyed, she shakes those thoughts from her head (both figuratively and physically) and returns to a more fitting serious demeanor. As a sort of punishment for such irreverence, she steels herself and moves a few yards closer. Rowena needs a better look to see if this plant (and/or creature) matches any knowledge of the local geography or historic lore. It'd be nice if some of the stories shared by various drunk young men at Dale's pubs and inns had some use.


OOC: So... can I get a knowledge of local geography and local history check? Is the above wording okay or do I need to do these checks separately from the narrative, as here?

In one swift motion, Arewe draws an arrow from her quiver, nocks and draws it, and sights on the center mass of the... plant... thing. She scrambles a few steps backwards to give herself some room, but stays very intentionally on the path at this time. "Stand down, unweód, if you value your mockery of a life," she threatens, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice and mostly succeeding.

If the plant makes a move forward to attack, Arewe will loose at the monstrosity. If it runs, she'll let it. Otherwise, she'll take her lead from the Druid.

OOC: It seems like Rohirric is a language Tolkien never finished, so I'm just drawing directly from Old English for Rohirric words.