Black Tidings and the Black Tarn

[Eclecticon]

In the dark-timbered hall of Sweartmereseld, Caewin's party enjoys the hospitality of the household of Amaleoda.  Arbogast does not join the feast in celebration of the Hall's guests.  Instead he keeps his station by Lindwine's side, clumsily mending nets and pulling weeds.  He allows the conversation to flow between them like a river - finding its own easiest course until the wild, tumbling passion is spent.  They speak but little of great things, preferring news of home and news of far abroad, and Lindwine's kin bring them fish, cheese and ale from the hall almost unnoticed. 

It is late at night, and their talk has moved in its great, slow meanderings for some time when she lays her head on his shoulder.  Before them, the moonlight shines, white as fish bellies, from the rippling waters of the Black Tarn.  The silence between them is easy, as once it was.  Only then does Lindwine whisper:

If grief could burn out
Like sunken coals,
Our hearts would rest quiet,
Our un-rent souls
Be still as the moon. 

But I have watched all night
Our fires grow silent,
Their grey ash soft. 

As we stir what stubborn flint
The flames have left,
So grief stirs, and our deft
Hearts beat on, impotent.

"I share your grief," says Arbogast, after a respectful pause, "for it is mine to share.  Yet I know, as I know that you do, that it shall not last.  It is not so long since I too felt the weight of grief and shame bearing me down, before a sublime dawning, with you, on this very shore." 

"You were healed then." 

"I was.  So may it be for you." 

"So may it be," she says, as their eyes meet.  "And yet, the fear cannot entirely leave my heart while you are gone from here."   

"That I know," he replies.  "And my fear for you remains as long as I tarry elsewhere." 

At this, she widens her eyes in mock-offence as she pulls her head away from his.  "Fear for me?  Foolish Fire-watcher!  Know you not that I am a daughter of Mirkwood, just as you are its son, and that I have survived its various menaces as long as you?" 

It is with considerable relief that he feigns confusion and says "Concern, then?  Or perhaps a great respect and admiration, that grows each time I venture afar?" 

At this, she gives a proud nod before resting once more against him. 

"It matters little what precise thing you may feel for me, so long as I know that you shall return." 

"That I shall," he replies.  "Come brimstone and darkness, yet I shall return to you." 

And with this, they allow their burdens to be put aside for a time, and long weariness to overtake them. 

*****

The half-light of a nearing dawn finds the two sleeping where they lay, wrapped in Arbogast's rough travelling cloak against the chill of early Autumn.  As they lie, lost in quiet dreams, a maiden steps forth from the water.  No ripples does she make as her toes leave the lapping waves, and no traces does she leave in the damp soil of her passing.  Silently, and heedless of the cold on her damp skin, she approaches the two lovers.  She regards them quizzically for a time.  Then, as the black herons begin to call in the dawn, she reaches down and rests a hand on Lindwine's belly. 

She retreats to the Tarn with a slight smile, satisfied that her kinswoman will yet be fruitful. 

[tomcat]

Dude, that rocked!

Game update tonight.

[Eclecticon]

Thanks Doug.  I promise to tone it down for a bit now. 

[tomcat]

Her name was not spoken by men, but often was thanks and praise bestowed upon her by the folk of the Black Tarn. If it were to be said in the common tongue of men, she would be named Duskwater and she was the oldest and wisest of her sisters. Long had the Dusky River and the Black Tarn been watched over by these spirits of nature - the three River Maidens. The youngest and most shy was Silverbell, who was seen most often in the fast-flowing upper part of the Dusky River. Only rarely did she appear, and only to children or those who were especially kind or in need. The second maiden was Sunshadow and of her it was said that she would sometimes guide the Woodmen boats past danger, or make merry with them - thus were some Woodmen descended from her dalliances. Amaleoda had started a spring and autumnal offering to all of the River Maidens and so with each season, the people would go out upon the lake and songs were sung in praise and tokens were dropped into the dark waters as gifts.

Long had Duskwater brought the Woodmen tidings of danger; when spiders crept around the lake, or the Werewolf roamed close, the maiden of the lake would warn the fisher-folk of their peril. But all of that had stopped recently. Duskwater had made herself scarce to the Woodmen, her sisters, and even to Radagast with whom she had many dealings. The Black Tarn had begun to fill with reeds and underwater plants, which knotted nets and rudders, and the fish that had once been in abundance seemed scarce. It was earlier in the year that the River Maiden had been caught by surprise, as she waded near the surface of a tributary that stretched into Mirkwood. The Nazgûl had used dark, binding spells to hold her and then he brought her to Tyulqin - one of the great spiders of Mirkwood. Between the two dark captors, Duskwater was wrapped in a dark magic and web that poisoned her mind, turning her against the Woodmen, her sisters and the wizard. Many secrets did she reveal, too, though it was not her wish.

Now the eldest River Maiden watched from the mired reeds of the Black Tarn as her sister, Sunshadow, left the shore where the two lovers had spent the evening. It had been in her heart to have the weeds of the lake reach out and grab them as they slept, and draw them into its dark depths - but her sister had been present, and Duskwater did not yet wish to confront her siblings. So with envy and resentment, she watched as Sunshadow dove deep and then she, too, submerged and began to weave magic of her own. The taint of the Shadow was in every evocation and so the Black Tarn would die a little more.

Arbogast awoke alone, but a message lay in his open hand. It was a flower of golden yellow, like butter cream, and it bloomed all year round along the river where the sun could find it. It was named Bladhriam by the men of Mirkwood, but to lore masters who knew of times past, it was called Ephanial. It was fragrant and its colors were seen even when the white of snow clung to the land.

He sat up and looked at the beautiful flower and smiled at the memory of past eve. She had returned to her duties already, and so must he. Standing, the Fire-watcher walked back into the village and to the main hall where he was sure his friends would be.

[tomcat]

Arbogast entered the large hall.  It was quiet inside, as most of the Tarn-folk were out about their daily business. Voices were subdued, save for Amaleoda who stood at the end of her table as she talked to two carpenters and a mason. The Fire-watcher saw his other companions at the other end of the hall sitting outside on its northern stoop. The Hobbit was animated and laughing, all the while blowing plumes of smoke.

He got new pipeweed, thought Arbogast, smiling to himself.

"Your apprentices are fast making bricks?" asked the lady chieftain.

"Aye, Amaleoda, we have almost two hundred bricks baking along the lake's eastern shore. The children have been gathering coarse grasses and the clay on the eastern shore is the perfect resource."

"Good," she nodded. "As soon as we have a high enough count I want the wood-works and gates to be reinforced with brick. We have at least two more months before winter kicks in and I will not have weak gates for anymore raids. Understood?"

The group of artisans all nodded. Arbogast wondered if Esgalwen had been making suggestions to his chieftain, as to what building materials should be applied. Surely, wood was the predominant resource and could make strong walls and gates. They just needed time to construct these things. They needed people, too. As many people that had come to the Black Tarn over the last three years, the same amount had left due to the threats out of the southern woods.

Arbogast noticed that he was seen by Amaleoda and she waved him over. She went right to business, "So...it was not my intent to entertain the Lord of Sunstead last night, but such is the task when he rides up to my door. I hear that you are hired into his entourage to travel across the forest to his hall. Is this true?"

A nod.

"So, we will pass another season without you here. I sent you to Rhosgobel because I thought the Brown Wizard had something of great import for our home here on the Black Tarn. Instead, I find it was to send you off on a fool's errand. Arbogast - I need able-bodied people here to help us build. To help us protect what we have built!" The Fire-watcher could see her getting agitated. "Things are strange. The lake fills with foul plant-growth. The fish have become scarce. The River Maidens no longer hear are calls or accept our gifts. Twice more have we been attacked!"

These last few words were loud and echoed in the empty hall causing the companions to all stop talking and look.

"Not men this time, bur orcs. Orcs out of the south, but with the same sigil as the men that had come before. Something evil allies against us. Mogdred and his people have come and try to extort us for food stuffs and trade goods for protection! It makes me wonder if that man is both the maker of these struggles and the provider of relief."

Arbogast was wondering where Amaleoda was going with her conversation. The tidings for the Black Tarn were grim and she seemed desperate.

"I cannot ask you to break your contract with that man and his foolish goal, but I ask that you return to us post haste. You have a home here. You have a life. Arbogast, you must come back to it lest it be lost from you."

The other companions now stood and listened to the subdued words between their friend and his leader. They all were contemplating the trip that would recommence with the coming of the next two mornings. Ceawin was in a rush to get home.

[Eclecticon]

"I shall not tarry long to the east," Arbogast responds.  "For my purpose holds to see my home grow, and to watch the flourishing of those I would call kin.  When your strong gates are wrought, I will be the first to lend my arm to their defence." 

Not for the first time does he feel a rush of antipathy towards the Lord of the Sunstead, whose foolishness seems plain to all but himself, and those he ought to protect.  It is not dampened by the mention of Mogdred's name. 

Damn him, he thinks.  That he should be so proud - he that is but lord of an ill-wrought hall upon an ill-starred hill!  Are the gifts of far-off Gondor not enough for him, that he feels he must leave us no peace and demand what little we have here?

[GandalfOfBorg]

Coming to the side of his friend, Grimbeorn spoke.  "Arbrogast doesn't go with the Lord of Sunstead because he desires it more than being here, quite the contrary.  He goes for the same reason you would have him here, to protect and defend his people.  The matter in Sunstead is one that needs attending lest it spread to other lands we fear, including this one.  This is the reason for his offer -- our offer -- of assistance."  Putting a meaty hand to his friend's shoulder.  "Do not begrudge him overmuch for his sense of duty and loyalty."

[Eclecticon]

That's right!  Grudge not, lest ye be grudged also!

[tomcat]

"I begrudge him nothing, Grimbeorn," said Amaleoda - her mood not improved by the unity shown by Arbogast's companions. "I only fear the pain he will know should all be lost here, for certain there are those of the Black Tarn that will not leave even if it is to fade back into these woods."

With that the chieftain strode from her hall. It was a new day and there were many things to be done.
I am leaving this thread for you all to add to as you please - Ceawin will be moving on in two days. Add any normal life type posts you wish to, but I am going to start our transit post tonight. We have two eyes that were rolled for travel and so I need to plan out those two hazards.

Until tonight...

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn sighed and shook his head.  He understood her fears but still believed in the task they set out to do. "I am sorry if I made things worse for you, Arbogast.  Is there anything we can help you with before we are to leave?"

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast shakes his head.  "No, my friend.  What you see her is the stubborn will that brought about this hall, and has kept it strong these past years.  It will stand under the guardianship of Amaleoda for another season, with or without me.  And she will have cause to be glad of a favour owed.  Of that I have no doubt."

[Posterboy]

Idunn stood in the background through the conversation between Amaleoda and Arbogast. The shieldmaiden remembered a similar word with her chief not two days ago, when Idunn shared her intentions with Amaleoda to travel with Caewin's party when he arrived.

"She is right though," the Woodswoman spoke up quietly. "The Firewatcher's axe has been missed, as has his spirit. Foul things are working against us here... a shadow is lengthening down the Dusky River and looking to snuff out the light and life. And here we are, making plans to leave...

Idunn gave her head a shake, gathering her resolve, "And leave we must. You are right, Lord Grimbeorn. Lord Caewin needs our aid... the Brown Wizard believes it true, though likely we will be rescuing him from his own pride.

"Still, while we are here, let us not waste the hours of the day while it is still called day. Perhaps it might ease Amaleoda's spirit if we were to throw our lot in here whole-heartedly for the now? I have heard that the Lord of Sunstead intends to leave two days from now. I'm sure we can find something to keep our hands from idleness while we wait.

"Perhaps, Lord Grimbeorn and Master Rorin, you could give aid to the artisans in the making of the bricks? I'm sure they will gladly welcome your strong arms and skilled hands.

"Lady Esgalwen and Master Bandy, I would be most glad if you might help me gather, prepare and deliver some herbs to help the ailing and the wounded. I suspect your beauty and joy-filled spirit might actually be just the right remedy for some of my people."

She did not add Arbogast. She was confident the Woodsman would know best how to fill his time.

[GandalfOfBorg]

The mention of the title "Lord" seemed to make Grimbeorn uncomfortable, yet he was glad to help in any way he could.  Just lounging idle didn't sit well with him.  "Before we are off, could you tell us more about what has been transpiring here?  The Shadow spreads here, how so?  Has anyone been able to determine its cause?"

[tomcat]

Seeing as Grimbeorn is talking to Idunn, I will leave this to be finalized by Posterboy.

Understand, no one is yet aware that the eldest River maiden has been corrupted - not even the Brown Wizard. The effects are only now starting to be felt as she no longer aids the folk of the Black Tarn, she chases the fish from the lake, and she allows the moss and reeds to tangle thickly in its waters.

No other ill is being felt.

As for other shadow plagues - orcs and evil men.

So, please go with the conversation and finalize this narrative as you guys want to do - I have obviously moved the story into the next phase, but don't want to leave loose ends.