The Halls of Men

[Eclecticon]

Though he remains outwardly composed, Arbogast's relief when the company reaches the gates of Woodmen-Town is tremendous.  It is like when I was a boy, he thinks, and the woods were not safe more than a dozen paces from the door.  Times are darkening once more. 

To the watchmen at the gate, he says "we left wain men struggling with a stuck wheel some hours downriver.  I know them not, so they are neither of Rhosgobel nor Woodmen-Town, and they do not know the paths here.  If some hunters could be spared, they will no doubt be glad of the assistance."

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn's journey was infinitely more enjoyable now that the group had taken to the road on horseback.  Though able to ride, he was better trained in his steed's care, which led to a more than a few apologies both to the horse and his companion.  She laughed each time it happened but not at him.  Aside from the usual chit-chat about the weather and their travel, Grimbeorn told her of the horses and other animals his father kept and of his travels, stepping past anything unseemly like his battles with the denizens of Mirkwood and the encounters he had with his friends.  If not for the arrival to the village, Grimbeorn would say he had a pleasant day.

[disench4nted]

Rorin stood at the ready with his hammer raised for a good minute after Ceawin gave the order to move on. Then he begrudgingly clambered back onto his pony and resumed his position as look out. He sulked for the remainder of the day at the lost chance to put down a small part of the Darkness that was threatening to overcome the forest. It had been over a year since he last put his weapon to good use and he looked forward to using it again.

[Telcontar]

Bandy stood watch a moment longer and scanned the woodline. When he saw the men unloading the wagon he quickly gave up his pony to the porters to be loaded with supplies. Rubbing his backside, "I have not often been on a pony this long. Load this up with supplies from the wagon and I'll walk. Dont worry about me slowing you down, the pony doesnt move that fast and I am more agile being lower to the ground."

[tomcat]

Things looked no different here than they had when Arbogast hitched his pack to his back those many years ago, never to return. They passed the guards at the south gate, who recognized the young man and nodded to his information regarding the wains-men they had left behind. Arbogast was not sure that anything would be done to help, but the forest communities usually made practice of helping any lost folk. Like an ocean, Mirkwood was vast and it was better to have friends and people you could trust for aid in times of need than not, and to deny help could earn disparagement from the other settlements.



Woodmen-town was the oldest settlement of the Woodmen and was founded by the folk of Balthi long ago. It was he that brought the Lamp out of the darkness, and the light of the Lamp has ever protected the town and its inhabitants. It was nestled on the banks of the Dusky River, which protected the town from attacks from the east, and provided for travel back and forth between Woodmen-town and Woodland Hall.

The Woodmen of Woodmen-town were proud and brave. Theirs was an ancient heritage, stretching back nearly a thousand years. To a civilised traveler from Dale or Gondor, they may look like rough wild Men of the woods, but the folk of Woodmen-town considered their lineage to be the equal of that of any king.

Arbogast could see the familiar houses of his father, Arbodag, and his brothers. He could also see the large house of Fridwald the Runner. The old man was not master of Woodmen-town, as the Free-men took no master, but it was he that the people turned to for guidance. The Fire-watcher wondered whether his daughter, Freda, was still unmarried. She had caught his eye years before, at the Folk-moot, but things had changed since he had met Lindwine of the Black Tarn.

The town's docks and market were busy and its wooden palisades looked strong. The folk of Woodmen-town faced a precarious existence. Spiders and other horrors out of the wood assailed them regularly. Still, they had endured here for nine hundred years, and made this wood their home.

"Arbogast! So you've made your way home?" The Fire-watcher turned at the voice. He recognized it and knew that sarcasm dripped in every word. Rorin could see his friend tense and wondered at the situation. The companions turned to see a fiery-red headed man that had Arbogast's features. His name was Oeric and he was the second son, third child, of Arbodag and Somerild - and he was Arbogast's brother. "You've been gone long with nary a word. Do you come home to see if your birth claim is still yours?"

The company all stayed and listened, but the remaining riders of Ceawin continued on taking no notice that they Lady Verwyne, whom they had brought so far, was still sitting behind Grimbeorn.

[tomcat]

I miss having Tom as a co-GM on this game - he is great for filling in the town's and locations with people and stuff going on. 

[Eclecticon]

Weary as he is, Arbogast meets the gaze of Oeric steadily.  "Nay,"  he replies, "for I have made a life for myself at the hall of Amaleoda, and it is there that I now call home.  I desire nothing from this place but the hospitality of my kin for a short while, and to see once again the light of the Lamp." 

"Brother, will you tell Father that his son desires his roof and table, and that he brings with him guests who will pay their way in companionship and good cheer?"

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn takes on the countenance of his namesake upon hearing the scorn and disrespect in the tone of the newcomer, apparently kin if Arbogast.  "I am Grimbeorn."  When there is talk of guests and hearth, the Beorning remembers his lovely charge. "Lady, I should return you to your father and his protection.  I apologize for the delay.  What say you?"

[disench4nted]

Rorin muttered under his breath to Bandy, "Hmph, nothing quite like brotherly love...", then marched to Arbogasts side and introduced himself. "Rorin, son of Barin, at your service. I've heard tell of the Ale of the Woodmen, but have yet to taste the genuine thing, I would gladly take my first pint at the table of the Fire-Watchers kin."

[Telcontar]

The Hobbit pretended to ignore the malice and sarcasim. It seemed the Hobbity thing to do in regard to a family squabble among big folk that he knew nothing about. Well, at least pretended to ignore.

"It is indeed a long road, but good cheer, story, and song I am ready and willing to recieve and give. Mr. Bracegirdle at your service and your family"

[Telcontar]

  I think I can do some scenery stuff as well as play the Hobbit for you Doug.

The awkward meeting between Arbogast and his brother was not the only thing that the companions observed as they entered into Woodman-town.

As they passed by the palisade they observed that the timbers were not for decoration. They were well maintained and in good repair. Some timbers showed the scares of attack, though none on them recent. Across the tops of the sharpened timbers there was a walkway so that the watchmen of the town could patrol the wall and rain fire and arrows down upon their foes. Also of note was a peculiar vine that grew across the tops of the timbers. The course of which seemed to snake around the entire palisade. The vine gave the appearance of green woven crown across the top, closer inspection revealed that it was in fact part of the defenses. The vine had sharp elongated thorns, presumably to keep the spiders from crawling across the top.

Looking to the east the companions noticed that within the walls grew a great tree, adorned with lamps and streamers, beneath and around which there appeared to be a market place. This was near the docks and presumably was a market and the social center of the town.

Rising gently but prominently the town was centered on a small knoll, which had its own gates and palisade. Here was the heart of Woodman-Town and the great hall, the cultural heart of the woodmen.

The people the companions saw also differed somewhat from those of Rhosgobel.  While the other two settlements drew most of their good and adornment from the woods of Mirkwood the people of Woodman-town had a different style. Being directly along the river imparted different style, both from the access of river trade and the river itself providing its own fruits and treasures to the Woodman. Throughout the town signs of a fishing culture could be seen. Whether through the carving of fishing motifs or through the carving and decorations of peculiar birds that hunted and nested along the rivers banks there was a marked style difference.
The companions were also drawn to the large presence of dogs here in Woodman-town. While many of the settlements of Woodmen had dogs the companions had not seen such an abundance since they were at Tyrant's Hill. Presumably some of Mogdred's men had come from here, or they relied upon the large fury companions to keep the wolves at bay.

As they drunk in the sites of Woodman-town they became keenly aware that the folk around them were equally measuring them up, and the woman who had arrived from Sunstead.

[Telcontar]

While Grimbeorn spoke loudly and declaratively the response to his inquiry came softly and not far from his ear. He was keenly aware of the press of her body against his back as she spoke.

"If I am to live among the Woodmen west of the wood I suppose I should see some of it before being tucked away? Newcomers will often see things that the people who are accustomed to a spot no longer notice, for instance the smell of wet dog. Your insight and observations would be as valuable as one who long lived here Grimbeorn son of Beorn."

[tomcat]

This is just a stopover for the )ady Verwyne, she is betrothed to another man of Woodmen Hall.

I have a post I started two days ago needing to be finished. I am going to post it in its partial state in the morning and finish it at the office.

[Telcontar]

  corrected

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn mustered as much courtesy as he could offer, trying to remember some of the lessons he learned in his father's house and along the road to this place.  "Yes, lady, of course.  Let's find the stables for our friend here and take the long route back to your father then."

"At least she has some wit about her to get to know the people she is coming to," thinks Grimbeorn.  "Let us hope the lord she is betrothed to has a similar mind."