Wizards and Narrows

[tomcat]

Okay - we had our introductory post for this new chapter and year. My initial thought with the end of Paul's run as Loremaster was to take us straight to 2956, but I am not going to do that. Even though the DoM adventure phases for 2954 and 2955 are kind of repetitive, I am going to make something of these two years. That said, they might be simple and quick, or long depending on where you take the narration.

With the end of 2953, we had a YE Fellowship phase and I also gave one for the early months of 2954. So, we will only have one more Fellowship phase in 2954 and that will be for year end.

Our new chapter starts at the end of May 2954 T.A.
The sun was high in the afternoon sky and the early day was already warm. The month of May was almost over and already the summer promised to be hot.

He sweated under the heat - his armor and riding gear offering little relief. His name was Eomund and he was a stranger to these lands, though they were not unlike his home. Though taller than the ones he knew, the Misty Mountains seemed a familiar sight. And the forest, well it was just as dark and looming as the Forest of Fangorn where he grew up. The man was of Rohan and he had traveled far for a dual purpose - to see his brother, Leofric, who was betrothed to one of the daughters of the Woodmen clans; and the second was to find buyers of his horses.

Eomund knew his history well - that the Rohirrim had originally come from the far north of these lands, following Eorl the Young to the aid of Gondor. The gift for their service was the green fields of Rohan, but surely these folks of the Vale knew that the squat beasts they rode were not horses... at least not real horses. The shaggy, muscled, ponies that were common to the region made the Rohirrim smile to himself. Surely these folk would see the value of his fast and durable steda that he bred in the south.

The Rohirrim had just finished talking with a smithy that had sued for his business, wanting to re-shod Eomund's mount, but the horse needed no new shoes for the now. Instead, Eomund asked a few questions and received his answers, though they were curt. It seemed the smith's friendliness went only as far as the offer of business.

From his place in the shade, Arbogast wondered at the stranger. The Fire-watcher was familiar with the Men of Rohan - tall, fair-haired, and excellent horsemen, but he had only met a few. Why was this man so far north?

Yet, Rhosgobel had become a place of travelers - much to the Brown Wizard's chagrin. The hermited, old man liked his privacy, but the growth of camaraderie of the Vale had made the small town a central stopping point for many on the road... especially those looking for answers. It was this reason that Arbogast had come once more - the winter had brought strange tidings and he knew that for the safety of his family and home, he must seek answers.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the gate - both Arbogast and Eomund turned to see - but only the Fire-watcher's face broke into a smile. There entering the gate was two tall Beornings - one very familiar to the man - along with a Dwarf. It seemed that Arbogast's desire to make once more for Rhosgobel was not shared solely by himself.

He stood and situated himself, as he strode to meet his boon companion - Grimbeorn.

The Rohirrim continued to watch as the quartet converged and shared warm greetings. Maybe they would be interested in buying a horse? he thought as the large man took the other in a great bear hug.

[Eclecticon]

The two Men present a marked contrast as they embrace, one broad-chested and tall, the other slight and lanky.  The greetings they exchange in the tongue of the Anduin Vales sound simultaneously familiar and strange to the Eorling's ears before the pair switch to Westron speech for the benefit of the nearby Dwarf. 

"So, your father has returned," Arbogast finishes his thought.  "This is good.  Ably have you led your people, from what I have heard, but our company needs your sharp axe and broad shield as much as it ever has!" 

His face growing abruptly serious, he continues: "Tell me, what is come over the Spring of the war between your people and Viglund's folk?"  Though he does not say as much, it is clear to those woh know him best that he sees a wide board in his mind, and seeks to know the disposition of each of the pieces.


EDIT: I just realised that it's a possibly little obnoxious to start RPing over Jacob's opportunity to introduce Eomund.  Feel free to just jump in, mate.

[Telcontar]

  doug, at the chapter heading can we get a quick mechanical summary added? Maybe something like number of Fellowship Points available party, party roles.... the things that we tend to forget about.

[WaitingCynicism]

  absolutely no worries eclection.

Eomund smiled as he saw the two men embrace, glad to know two of the men were at least friends. He quietly and cautiously approached them, smiling, letting their conversation finish before he spoke..

"Hello there! I am Eomund, son of Aethelwulf."

[tomcat]

Just to clarify for continuity... Arbogast did not approach and embrace Eomund. The Rohirrim is a stranger in these lands and this is his opportunity to introduce himself.

Arbogast approached his friends and he and Grimbeorn gave an embrace and then started asking him about what has been going on since the end of Fall and the northern battle that occurred.

[WaitingCynicism]

  sorry about that misunderstanding, I misread is all.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn was glad to see his friend again, thankful that the darkness hadn't taken him as has been the wont of the world these days.  All too many have been lost to in the wilds and fell creatures on his travels south, confirming his father's stories so long ago at his return.  "What brings you thither to seek out the Brown Wizard?  What are the tidings of your lands?"
---
Still not overfond of strangers, Grimbeorn remains quiet, letting his more talkative friends answer the man of the south.

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn, as if by an cunning act of summoning, already had one hand filled with a cup.

"So this is realm of beast and wizadry!" He proclaimed a little too loudly for those in his immediate vicinity.

"I expected to see a lofty tower and elves with overflowing goblets, a floating pillar of a beacon of white light. The hall of Beorn has more enchantment in the nectar of bees alone than this wood pile."

Hathcyn laughed and slapped their woodman friend on the arm.

"Becareful Wolfslayer, for you have asked a direct question of the fire watcher. His response shall indeed be thirsty work for us both and a trying ordeal for my ears for both are forced to listen together and unable to take his tales in turn."

"Though truly I am sure you may have news we want to hear, and your coming has saved us a longer trek to find you. Anar was growing tired of birds and game anyway. Maybe their is a lamb or sausage to be found that hasn't been ensourceled and turn is into bushes or Woodmen."

The tall man sipped deeply of his mug and his eyes drank in the layout of the village.

 
  Hathcyn has never been this far south so he will joke and chide with his friends, but also take keen interest in the layout of the village and any thing he may mark as noteable.
Awareness Roll:

Rolled 3d6 : 5, 6, 2, total 13

Rolled 1d12 : 9, total 9

[Telcontar]

   great success.

[tomcat]

doug, at the chapter heading can we get a quick mechanical summary added? Maybe something like number of Fellowship Points available party, party roles.... the things that we tend to forget about.

Hey Tom, that is why I updated THE FELLOWSHIP thread to keep this data always at easy reach.

Is it more convenient to open each thread with the current count?

Let me know.

[Telcontar]

  Nope. I know we talked about putting it somewhere i did not recall where.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast, who before his meeting with Grimbeorn has not spoken a dozen words together in days, looks quizzically at the brash Beorning before seeing the humour in his words.  He gives an ironic nod as he says "indeed, a brief tale is often the best when the sun is high in the sky and there is work to be done.  So, then: the folk of Black Tarn Hall endure still, though the winter be hard as ever.  But something is yet amiss with the eldest of the River-maidens, for she goes abroad on land and has led hunters to a cairn filled with the ancient dead and their treasures." 

[Telcontar]

"We have heard too that the master of Sunstead seeks to build a road across the narrows and is paying in gold. Perhaps this cairn and ancient gold are connected somehow. I wondered how such riches would come from a town at the edge of the wood.

[Eclecticon]

"Perhaps, though the Master of the Sunstead has shown in the past that he has coin aplenty to press into eager hands when the mood takes him.  There are graves of kings of old to be found near his people's lands," he adds, and a shadow passes over his face as he recalls the desperate battle fought beneath the barrows.  "Little would it surprise me to learn that some of his followers have broken them open to recover ancient treasure." 

At Eomund's introduction, Arbogast turns and regards the newcomer.  He is nearly as tall as Grimbeorn, though perhaps narrower at the shoulders, with a bow-legged gait that Arbogast has heard of among the Leofrings in the far southern vales but never before seen.  His cloak and shirt of mail both show the signs of a long journey, but are clearly well-made, with something in their lines speaking of a kinship to crafts of the the folk of Wilderland.  A plume of fine horse-hair rises from the helm that he holds in the cook of his arm.  And the horses!  Tall and noble-seeming beasts they are, that would be a fitting mount for any thegn of the plains or dale-lands. 

"Welcome then, Eomund, to Rhosgobel," he says, bowing his head in a somewhat formal greeting as the knot of conversation opens to admit the newcomer.  "I am the Fire-watcher.  With me are Hathcyn the Longspear, Anar of the Iron Hills and Grimbeorn, son of Beorn."  Glancing again at Eomund's mounts, he adds "I must congratulate you on bringing such creatures this far into the wood, for mighty as they are, I am told they mislike the narrow and shadowed ways of the forest." 


Edited slightly to make the conversation flow better. 

[WaitingCynicism]

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am certainly glad to be here. Have you met my brother Leofric? He is betrothed to one of the women of Rhosgobel, Helva."