The Draw of the Lamp

[tomcat]

Arbogast awoke with the early sun, though it hid behind roiled, grey clouds. The smell of rain was in the air and the temperature was already climbing, making for a humid start to the day.

Rhosgobel was waking around him and he walked throughout the small village talking to folks, getting news and making connections. No conversation went beyond the simple pleasantries, but the Fire-watcher wanted to know who was who in Rhosgobel. He did ask any that were travelers or hunters if they had news of the Black Tarn, but most of what he was told was vague and unpleasant.

He needed to start home, soon.

He was talking to a young girl who was daughter of the baker and his wife. She currently had a wooden pallet of cinnamon breads in front of her, as she tried to put them on display for sale but keep them all from being ruined from the coming rain. The baker had a small stand in front of his shop and he regularly displayed his wares. Arbogast smelled the fresh-baked cinnamon and could not resist. He handed her a small copper coin and she returned to him a small loaf. "Enjoy," she said with a smile and then went back to her duties.

The Fire-watcher gave her a friendly salute and turned to head back to the main hall. As he did, his gaze fell on the main gates and there were three individuals walking into the village. A woman with auburn hair; a figure with dark hair who stood at great height; and finally a small person. A Hobbit? Bandy?

Arbogast knew Esgalwen immediately and wondered at her companions. He ran to the gate to greet them.

"Hello, Arbogast," said Esgalwen wearily. "We have marched through the night, but it is with great joy that I see you again!" Her last memory of the man was leaving them to continue on deeper into the Vale of Gundabad. Esgalwen was not sure at that time if she would see them again. "Where is everyone?" she asked.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast's heart simultaneously leaps and sinks at the sight of a Hobbit at the hedge-gate.  Bandy has returned!  But what misfortune has driven him to do so? Coming closer, he sees that it is not his old friend, but another that stands with Esgalwen, his clothes rude and muddy as any Woodman.  With them stands an unknown Elf, high and lordly-seeming to the Fire-watcher. 

"Greetings to you too, Esgalwen.  Much does it lift my spirits to see you once again.  We are a sadly diminished company since last we spoke."  Seeing the look of horror creeping over her face, he hurriedly adds "not that any you know are gone from the world, though terrible were the foes we faced.  The burdens of our adventures lie heavy on the heart of Master Bracegirdle, and if there be mercy in the world he is this very moment building himself a home in the southern vales of Beorn's land.  Likewise, Rorin has returned to his people, to finish the reclamation of the Old Forest Road.  Grimbeorn, though, is come here as an emissary of his father, and is likely in the great hall, for we are guests of the council of elders here." 

Turning at last to the new arrivals, he greets them formally, with a bow such as he has seen Bandy use many times.  "Good day to you, master Hobbit, master Elf.  I take you to be companions of my friend here, and so I am Arbogast, son of Arbodag, whom Men call the Fire-watcher." 

[tomcat]

Even as Arbogast introduced himself, Esgalwen suddenly grabbed him in a hug.

The Woodman was taken off-guard at first and he awkwardly stood there, but then he wrapped his own arms around her and squeezed tightly. She was not Lindwine, but she was a woman - with her smells and warmth. He held on and realized that he, too, needed this contact - to know that they were all alive and well. The Spectre of Gundabad was a nightmare that he would not soon forget, but the simple act of friendship and comfort the two gave one another eased their troubles. He did not let go and matched the intensity of her hold.

Morirúsë and Udo stood in an awkward silence of their own trying not to stare.

Moments passed and then Esgalwen loosened herself from him and pulled back. Arbogast could see her eyes welled with tears and he, too, was flushed of face. The non-spoken words that passed was that they had survived the trials of the northlands. Yet it was more for Esgalwen, but Arbogast could not know this. For her, it was the knowledge now that she had lost all of her first company of friends that had ridden north from Gondor, which made Arbogast and the others mean so much more.

Esgalwen turned to the new faces, "This is Udo Pebblertoes of Reedbank - a small Hobbit community residing along the Anduin. And this is Morirúsë - an Elf from over the Misty Mountains, though I can say little more."

[Telcontar]

The Noldo elf stood and watched the reunion, and the sights of the place and the people he saw in it stirred a memory deep in the past. The Woodman before him reminded the elf a great deal of the folk of Haleth long ago, and their village, and their stockade... He set the memory aside, not wishing to follow any train of thought or memories of the Eldar days very far.

"I certainly did not receive a welcome or greeting of that nature when I  met the lady of the south."

The elf extended out his arm to his side and nodded his head, "I am Morirúsë, last of the House of Caranthir east of the Sea. May the light of your fire give both heat and warmth, and the wisdom of your stories bring light to hearts and minds as the embers do to their eyes."

The Woodman understood the elf, but also found that his speech was accented strangely, as if the way he spoke the words were older, more archaic, then what was presently spoke yet understood.

"I see you have brought us a cake, it does not look like there is enough for all here? Shall we quarter it, or just say thank you for the kind gesture and seek wine and food elsewhere? We walked a good distance, though much of the dirt I am afraid was already on the small one before we headed here."
 

[GandalfOfBorg]

  I believe I translate that as old Elvish for "Gimme!" 

[tomcat]

hey Matt, feel free to bring Grimbeorn into the scene as you please. Whether he was out and about outside of the town doing Beorning stuff, or if he is just waking up and getting some air.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast looks at the cake in his hands.  Sweetened with honey and dusted with a spice previously unknown to him, it is the best thing he has eaten since leaving the Elvenking's hall.  Nonetheless, the obligations of hospitality leave little room for personal regrets.  He breaks the bread into three pieces and hands them to the newcomers.  "Please, take it as a slight token of your welcome into the lands of my folk." 

He cannot suppress a momentary flash of irritation as he does so, though he hopes that it escapes their eyes. 



Hey Tom, if you want to roll Insight to see whether Morirúsë notices, I'll do the same to see if Arbogast notices him noticing.  This could set up a nifty dynamic between the two! 

DC 14 Insight 2

1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 3, total 9

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn awoke with the animals beginning to rise.  Being away from his home is certainly different for the animals about his father's place didn't act like these wilder creatures for they obeyed his command and had duties to perform.  Yet being away for so long over the past few years has lessened the expectation of fresh raw honey and berries with cream in the morning.  This morning he didn't range too far from the settlement as he was anxious to see his friend again and who was it that accompanied her.  Coming back to town he found the odd sight of the elf next to a tiny person similar to Bandy and Esgalwen embracing Arbogast.

"I see you have brought us a cake, it does not look like there is enough for all here? Shall we quarter it, or just say thank you for the kind gesture and seek wine and food elsewhere? We walked a good distance, though much of the dirt I am afraid was already on the small one before we headed here."

This is what Grimbeorn hears as he approaches.  "There is food and drink to be found elsewhere more suitable to the refined tastes of the Elves, though I dare say this one's manners rival mine own.  Esgalwen, who are these ragtag followers of yours?"

[Telcontar]

  As it was a physical response I am going to roll Awareness to notice the physical reacction, drawing the conclusion of what it means is gonna be the fun part.

Rolled 4d6 : 3, 2, 5, 2, total 12

Rolled 1d12 : 3, total 3

[Telcontar]

The Elf had meant it as a joke, but the humor was lost on the man of the wood. He surpressed a chuckle at the sign of irritation from the man, though the cake was surprisingly pleasing.

"I thank yee for the repast, it was goodly and filling."

The large man strode towards the group and Moriruse marked him as no woodman. "Sun child, is this too one of your companions?"

This man was different than all the rest, and Moriruse felt the wild spirit of the man, not carefree, but primal and thinly contained by his mannish appearane.

All present felt the feeling from the elf change as well as his tone. He went from playful arrogance to seriousness, and his presence in the group seemed to grow.

"Hail, madiglihe. Many have the years been since last I saw one of your folk. Esgalwen did not tell me that one such as you would be involved in the hunt. This shall prove interesting indeed."  With that he nodded his head in a jesture of genuine respect.

[tomcat]

"Yes," smiled Esgalwen sheepishly, "he is also a companion of mine."

She then threw her arms around the Beorning, only to disappear in the large, young man's bear hug. It was somewhat comical to see, but Grimbeorn was strong and he did not always know his strength and Esgalwen emerged from the embrace puffing air and with a slight wince on her face.

She tapped his arm with one hand, as her other went to her ribs, "I deem myself a warrior, Grimbeorn, but remember I am smaller than you."

"Sorry," was his reply and he looked downcast at his error.

The group broke into laughter at the sight and then turned towards the common house. There was much to catch up on, and new things to discuss.

They found a quiet corner of the long table, each with a gathered plate of breakfast, and conversation was made. Much was discussed since their separation - Esgalwen spoke of the children returned safely and then the knowledge that was revealed to her of a potential survivor from her company out of Gondor, held captive in the Elftower ruin. The men spoke of the hazards of the Vale of Gundabad and the spectre that prowled its reaches. Ruithel was also discussed and her rescue.

To this, Morirúsë took interest for he knew the name of the Elf. The Noldo did not bear any love for the Sindar, whom he believed have done naught but shut themselves in woodland holds. His spite extended even to Lorien and the daughter of Finarfin, who resided there, though she be of Noldorin descent. He was of the House of Caranthir and he still upheld his oath to pursue the enemy until the ends of Arda - an oath that was seemingly forgotten by others of his kin. His thoughts were unrevealed to the others, as they sat and talked.

At last talk turned to current events. Arbogast cocked an eye towards their new Elf companion, but continued on to tell of Radagast's words. Elves out of the north have been espying the lands around Woodmen-town and Woodland Hall, though none knew why. The Fire-watcher had an idea as to the reason, but he did not volunteer it. Along with the Elves, rumors were also spoken of the coming of the Beast of Mirkwood - the werewolf that had haunted the people in generations passed.

Lastly, they spoke of the Tarn and its plight.

In it all, Radagast had requested their aid.

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë sat silently and listened, he may even have thought to have been alseep through parts of the conversation. When the Spectre of Gundabad was mentioned however the party knew without a doubt that they had his full attention, and when they mentioned the Beast of Mirkwood his eyes burns with an inner light.

"So then it is true, without a doubt the ancient foe has returned. I thought it perhaps to be some wizard's pupil who took claim to a title or a name of the past to bring some of its fear and power into the present. The Spectre of Gundabad though...he would serve only one master."

The companions began to feel that the passion of the elf was burning through his clothes and his eyes and face shone almost it seemed with a light of their own.

"Long ago the Master of Werewolves, Sauron the servant of the nameless enemy, unleashed this beast upon us and to him my folk have an emnity that shall stretch across the bounds of this world he holds the highest portion  of my wrath, save for one other. I will hunt this beast weather the wizard wills me to or not."   

[Eclecticon]

"If we are to hunt this beast, then you ought know of the lands about where it has been espied," Arbogast ventures.  "Mark well my words, friends, for much may turn on what we know..." 


Doug, I'm assuming that Arbogast has had time to ask around for news of where the Werewolf has been seen.  Has it crossed the Dusky River at all?

[tomcat]

Hey Paul, the howls of the Werewolf have been heard across the breadth of Mirkwood for about a month now. The beast has revealed itself to its ancient foes - the Elves.

Rumors of sightings range from the Old Forest Road south to Woodmen-town.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast finishes a broad-strokes description of the lands south of the Old Forest Road and as far east as he knows.  Musing aloud, he continues, "I have close kin near to Woodmen-Town.  In particular, I know that my uncle Lafdag will be investigating any tales that reach him of our quarry.  Once we have spoken further to Radaghast, Woodmen-Town perhaps ought to be our next destination."