News from the Hunters

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast is slow to reply to his father's question.  The shadow that pervades the forest calls to that which lies in his heart, and he has no desire to converse for the first time in many years with the man who, with cold stares and silence, drove him from his home.  But then Morirúsë's song begins to ring like a clear harp through the dell, and, though he speaks not a single word of the ancient Elven tongue, Arbogast understands that it is a song of things lost to ancient passions and grudges nursed long past any value. 

His brow uncreases from a frown he had not previously noticed.  "We came to Woodmen-Town for to seek the Beast.  But when I learned that you and uncle Lafdag were abroad on the same hunt, I could not stand to sit by and wait to see when, or whether, you returned." 

He pauses a moment.  "Evil has this summer been, for it has taken me far from my beloved and my daughters, and my friends have been placed in dark and terrible perils.  Truly, I have no desire to face the Werewolf.  But now that it imperils my kinfolk, it must be done.  I know not whether we are match for it, but I could not bear the shame of living while others perished, knowing that I could have done something but was afeared and chose otherwise." 

[Eclecticon]

Sorry for the wait, guys.  Weekends is tricksy. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn remained silent though his heart was lightened by the elf's song.  To him, it hearkened to memories long past, of his mother and the time of his youth.  They were powerful and happy, so much so that a tear came to his eye and he didn't immediately brush it away.  He then thought of her and what she would think of all this business of elves and wizards and the encroaching darkness.  It wasn't what she wanted and he knew it.  It wasn't what his father wanted, he realized too, but it was the path and destiny for him.  Only through these trials, these journeys, was he to prove his worth and mettle.  Man and elf and dwarf were all in this together, so this strife them all must end.  With a great sigh, Grimbeorn found his center and it was before him in this spot.

[Telcontar]

  back to you Doug

[tomcat]

yea, I have been watching.

The weekend has been full with my wife's birthday activities. I will update today.

[Eclecticon]

Sure it was.  All I'm hearing is excuses.  "My wife had a birthday."  "There's some weird folk holiday or something."  "I'm in traction with multiple spinal fractures." 

If you can't commit to the game, don't run it. 

[tomcat]

Well, if you're going to make an excuse, might as well make it a big one! Right now I am anesthetized for a frontal lobotomy...I mean, who else is crazy enough to start a game board fourteen years ago so he can be ridden more brutally by my players then I have ever been by my wife.  

Hee hee hee...

I will have that post up tonight.

[tomcat]

Arbogast finished his comment regarding his concerns of the werewolf. He waited for his father to add wisdom to the conversation - to express some sort of sage advice as to what Men could do against such a horror. Instead, the ball of ice reformed in his stomach with each word his father spoke.

"So...rumours are true then. You did take a wife and now have children. You think you could at least let your mother know." A silence as deep as a chasm, and then, "The Tarn is far, but it would be nice that your children might know their grandsires? Have you sired a son, or are they daughters?"

Lafdag who sat near, and could see his nephews face, interjected, "Now Arb...you should just be proud that you've grandchildren. There'll be time for meetings and Somerild will hold those kids soon enough."

"Uh huh...well, you've always had a knack for excusing him, Lafdag. Whether its him runnin' off instead of taking up his duties on the farm, or now, taking a wife and not telling his folks." Arbodag stretched his legs out towards the fire and then spoke in dismissal, "We're glad you're here, boy, and chose to help instead of fearin' some other choice."

The moon no longer shone down through the opening in the forest, having moved on through the sky, but still its light made portions of the mists glow. To Arbogast, they now seemed colder than they were before.

[tomcat]

Not trying to prolong this scene, but I really want to evolve the backgrounds and relationships with the PC's.

For everyone waiting, the night will end soon enough. 

[tomcat]

The night passed with only the woodland noises to bother the companions. Each took the opportunity to keep guard, though Morirúsë remained vigilant throughout.

When the sky began to change and the faint light of early morning changed the forest from black to gray, the Noldor quietly stood and walked out into the forest. He heard something - a familiar sound. Arbogast and Grimbeorn were both asleep, and only Lafdag had been awake with the Elf. He went to stand, but Morirúsë signaled him to remain seated and silent.

Moments later, the Noldo was surrounded by others of his folk, but yet, unlike him. It was the Elves of the Woodland Realm - a company fifteen strong.

"Good morn to our fellow kin, though it puzzles us to see you so far from home. Do you wander far from Lothlórien, or have you crossed the Misty Mountains to see our beautiful realm? Either way, it is strange company you keep!" Laughter filled the area as the Woodland Elves found humor in their words. "Aid was called for and we have come. Was it you that sent the raven, Craokaw, to beseech us?"

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë spoke quietly in the Sindarin tongue.

"Long it is since I last saw Greenwood the Great, and less welcoming has the wood become. I am in the company of these woodmen, some I came with, others we found. We are a party of hunters seeking the fell spirit of the Werewolf. I had heard rumor of it and
 Aiwendil confirmed for me it was truely here again in the wood.

By their own words and deeds some of my companions may be known to your Lord, they are called Grimbeorn son of Beorn, Arbogast the Firewatcher, and Esgalwen of the Dunédain. The Lady has been put in a swoon by a forest Wyrm, and I have not the knowledge to treat her. In forlorn hope the Firewatcher sent the bird to see if the friends of Aiwendil were near, or could render aid."

The Noldo elf led the band into the clearing. This was the most elves Lafdag had seen ever in one place and unnoticed before he could now clearly see and feel there was someing different between these Wood Elves and this stranger who accompanied his kin. There was more silent power or the feeling if light about him.

"Lafdag, we have visitors, wake the others if you will." Then the elf showed the still form of Esgalwen to the Wood Elves, still craddled in the arms of the Beorning.

[tomcat]

"Yes, these names are known to us and are held in high regard by our king for their assistance in the finding and freeing of Ruithel!" The Silvan Elf's voice became somewhat gleeful. "I am Orophal and I lead this company of hunters out of the Woodland Realm."

Orophal moved to the wounded as his people spread out around the dell, in a defensive ring with bows nocked. He looked first at Arbodag and his wounded henchman, "These two will need aid soon. Their wounds are deep and could become corrupt within the forest if not cleaned properly. Although I could aid them with the supplies we have brought, I must instead recommend they be returned to their village as quickly as possible. We are far from home and neither have the time to seek the herbs in the forest, or the necessary amounts to tend these Men and have enough remaining for our company."

The Elf then moved to Esgalwen and looked her over, staring deeply into her eyes. "She suffers no wound? Did she breath the poison of the basilisk?" A nod came from Morirúsë, to which Orophal mimed in his assessment, "The basilisk poison can be deadly, but a valorous person can overcome. I can see there is no withering to her flesh. I believe Esgalwen will soon be freed from her plight."

Orophal looked deeply into the eyes of the Dúnadan woman and he comforted her tormented mind, letting her know that she would be okay. Even as he did this, Arbogast and Grimbeorn were awakened and now stood nearby.

The sun was rising and the light above was growing. The fog that had filled the dell was dissipating, revealing a grassy, leaf-covered area that was pleasant in the daylight.

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë looked at his companions, "they arrived this morning and are a company out of the north. They heard the summons of your feathered friend Firewatcher. Orophal is their captain, he believes Esgalwen needs but rest and will overcome her swoon, the others he recommends make for the homes of the woodmen lest their wounds fester."

[Eclecticon]

Upon waking to find the bower filled with newly-arrived Elves, Arbogast tries to hide his shock.  He looks about, but in the gloom of the forest he does not recognise any of the night-time arrivals from his encounter in the Woodland Realm.  His momentary panic subsiding into wary watchfulness, he is able to appreciate the relief brought by Morirúsë's words.  Though Radaghast be not here, yet Esgalwen will live to bear arms another day.

He nods as the High Elf relays Orophal's recommendation.  "His words are wise," he replies. 

As the Men make preparations for the journey back to Woodmen-Town, the Fire-watcher approaches the Elf whom he guesses to be Orophal.  With a slight bow, such as Bandy might have made, he introduces himself.  "Well and welcome is your arrival here, and I thank you for the troubles you have taken.  I am known to Men as the FIre-watcher."  Then, with an expression he hopes appears appropriately respectful, he adds "tell me, if you will, what business has brought you here, for you have wandered far from the borders of the Woodland Realm, and the protection of the Elvenking." 


Doug, I'm not sure whether you want this to go into a full Encounter.  If so, here's my courtesy roll for an introduction:

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 5, 5, total 10

[Eclecticon]

Leeeeet's hope that wasn't necessary.