FELLOWSHIP PHASE - YEAR END 2954

[Telcontar]

Just because I'm a numbskull, how much time are we passing?
Journey home+ X + journey to.... Sunstead? = ?

[tomcat]

Per my current narrative, we are mid-June 2954 and I intend to start the new arc in 2955 so that I can get us as close to 2956 as possible and include some stuff NOT in the DOM that explores the eastern side of the woods.

[Eclecticon]

Despite wishing with all his heart to be back in the safety and comfort of Sweartmereseld, Arbogast delays his return home.  First, he pays call at the Sunstead.  But he is shocked to be turned away from the hall of Caewin the Generous.  The guards and servants, many of whom recall him from his recovery from the Shadow-fever several years ago, confide in hushed tones that such conduct on their master's part is becoming more and more common.  Several of his closest confidants have been sent away into exile, they say, including his own younger brother Maccus. 

Unsettled, but not entirely surprised, he quietly takes his leave along with the rest of the company and, with the chest borne by a pony, they make their way northward to where the Forest Road ends at the Eastfort, recently restored by Dwarven stone-cunning and Mannish sweat, and standing proud at the southern end of the Long Marshes.  There, they bid a gruff farewell to Anar, who takes his share of the treasure and turns toward the River Running, never sparing a backward glance. 

Together, the three remaining companions traverse Mirkwood once more, Hathcyn's unease at the constant darkness abated somewhat by the familiar sight of work gangs setting stone after stone.  The conversation is lively in the wayforts, though few anticipate the road being finished this year.  Though the forts are strong and well-garrisoned, still the workers tell of attacks by spiders, goblins and things darker still for which Men have no name.  When they come once again to the company of Rorin and Bofri the Roadwarden, Arbogast promises to return later in the year to help patrol the road.  A show of strength, he thinks, will establish the way as one belonging to the Free Peoples, on which the Shadow's minions trespass at their peril. 

Soon afterwards, the day comes when he leaves his Beorning friends and turns for the lands of his people in the vales of Anduin and beneath the western eaves of the forest.  There, he goes in search of the families of those lost to the River – Amaswinta, Edward and two others, finding when he reaches them that they are glad of the silver he leaves with them as poor weregeld for their kin, but gladder still of the simple news of their fate.  Osbern, brother of Amaswinta, even presses a helm, finely wrought, though without cheek guards or an aventail in the mode of the Woodmen, into his hands.  "My thanks," he says, "for freeing the memory of my sister from that accursed place."

At each village and steading he is asked to join in the funerary rites, and he lifts his voice in song with his people as fires are burned beside empty cairns.  Strangely, he finds comfort in the observance of tradition.  Each death, he thinks, is but a mark upon a greater way.  And though we know not whither the road of our people may lead, and our feet may seem leaden and sore in our grief, we who remain are yet able to continue on.

[Eclecticon]

Despite the ordeal in the wood, the Fire-watcher arrives home more at peace than he left, and he is able to tell of his travails to the folk of Black Tarn Hall as merely a shuddersome fireside tale, to be enjoyed in the company of loved ones and then put out of mind.  Nor does the time he spends away from them, beating back the darkness of the Forest Road with the tramp of steady footsteps, dampen what becomes an idyllic summer. 

Such days are fleeting, however, and by October the weather has already begun to turn cold, with chill winds blowing from the East beneath a dark and heavy sky.  The pigs are gathered from the forest early, not yet fully fattened on the fruits of autumn, and word comes from the shepherds of the vales that the year's lambing is expected to be poor.  In Black Tarn Hall, roofs are re-thatched thickly ahead of the frosts that are sure to come. 

Arbogast is cutting rushes by the water's edge, listening to Wilone and the twins at play with other children, laughing at the deep 'plunk' sound that stones make as they meet the water.  His mind on his work, he does not immediately notice as they go quiet, but his attention is summoned by Lindwine's cry.  Looking up, he sees her rushing from the pigsty down to the Tarn's edge, where the children have gathered around the figure of a woman standing knee-deep in the water, naked but for what appears to be a hauberk of the finest silver mail. 

There is no time to think of how, in bygone days, such a sight would have brought joy and comfort.  The Fire-watcher's sickle falls, forgotten, from his hand as he turns and tries to force his legs to carry him faster, his arms to pump harder, his heart to give strength enough to his body to carry him to where the children stand unknowingly in deadly peril.  As Lindwine's cry is taken up, more and more of the folk begin to follow her, all other thoughts abandoned.  Without changing her serene expression, the river-maiden Duskwater reaches out and gathers several children to her.  Arbogast's scream of warning and fear sends the rest scattering, and he reaches the lake-shore in time to pull Lafwyne, and an older boy named Eutaric, from her grasp. 

But he is not quick enough, and Duskwater seizes the collar of tiny Wilone, not yet a full year old and unable to stand and run.  There is just enough time for him to see his daughter's eyes go wide with terror before the river-maiden dives into the dark water, dragging the child with her.  Heedless of anything else in the world, he dives in after them only to see Wilone's bright hair, fine as kitten fur, billow about her head as she and Duskwater vanish in a flash of silver scales. 

He swims after them until his lungs scream for air, and dives again once he has refilled them, but it panic and despair that drive him, not hope of following into the deep waters.  When he is at last pulled from the water into a fishing boat his breath becomes a sobbing cry which, great as it is, cannot shift the horror from his heart. 

[tomcat]

   

I thought Arbogast's poor Weal and Woe roll would be for his leg, or something. That was a brutal scene, Paul, but very good.

[GandalfOfBorg]

  All right I'm just gonna bank the rest of my experience points and so my character sheet is up-to-date now.  As for hope points I will claim as many points is willing to give up.


Grimbeorn continues his travels with the remainder of his companions.  Like Arbogast he is confused and bewildered at the behavior of the master of Sunstead. They're all clearly remembered for they were at at a time heroes for these people.  He presses more to seek audience with the master but even he, a kindred lord, is unable to sway the gates open to them.  They leave this place with concern and disgust.  The Beorning has not for the last time rued this venture out of Rhosgobel.

It was good to see his old friends on the forest road and the progress that has been made by Dwarf and Man together.  Word again of the disturbances out of the south and ill-tidings that only Mirkwood can bring.  It made him think of his lands and the threats that lay ever-present on their northern and western borders and his itched to return.

Soon the day came when Arbogast sought to turn south while he and his Beorning brother must turn north.  Words of kinship were shared but he could feel deep down in somewhere within he'd never felt before that the shadow of sorrow and strife lay between the two ere they met again.  With his last farewell, he watched his friend turn towards the embrace of hearth and home until Fire-watcher was out of sight.

Turning north on the paths for the lands of his father, the weight of responsibility and dread grew within him.  The leagues which he and Hathcyn traveled back were eerily silent with few wanderers or caravans that would be passed in these parts. Ere they arrived at the furthest reaches of the Beorning's land, they discovered what had transpired in their absence: fingers of the Shadow had been busy.

[Eclecticon]

... AND???  You can't leave it like that! I... um... forbid it! 

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn had never been to Sunstead, but he sensed the frustration of his companions at being refused an audience with its lord. Their frustration grew and even Grimbeorn commented on the lack of courtesy upon his last failed attempt to see its Lord. Neither did any of his counselors come to them, only the sympathetic head shake that they would not be seen by the guards.

The first day in Sunstead Hathcyn spent asleep, oblivious to the world as he rested on soft straw and the ease of not having to keep weapons at the ready. Soon though, his body was rested and with his share of the coin of the buried chest, Hathcyn easily found company in the ale house of Sunstead. In the town there were folk with money to spend on drink and company and Hathcyn found their company. Many false friends were made when a bottle of wine was opened from a far away land and Hathcyn was willing to partake and to share with all present. Seldom in Sunstead did he drink alone and only a few nights after the first did he spend alone.

When the party was rested with a final head shake in the direction of the hall and a farewell to friends that remained in Sunstead the party went north. When they arrived at the road Hatchyn had a longing to stay. Even though they were once again under the eaves of the wood he desired to stay there over the foreboding that grew upon him as they drew closer to home. However, Hathcyn followed where Grimbeorn led so he made the journey south again.

When Abrogast departed even Grimbeorn, who was usually silent and taciturn himself, noticed the silence of their journey. As they approached familiar lands the trouble in the Longspear grew.

When they arrived back at Beorn's Hall Hathcyn did not immediately seek out his cow warden and call upon her or his animals. He spent some time with Harhold, and they hunted and swam in the river. Even his friend knew he was avoiding the woman for some reason, but did not ask.

When he did call upon her she was happy to see him, but did not understand the distance  he had with her when once there seemed to be more of a desire for closeness. She and her boy were well and his beasts also prospered. Under her care both of their herds had grown and prospered and Hathcyn was set to have another beneficial year with his herd.

Where the awkwardness of  her husband's recent death had been the cause for lack of affection in the past, now it was the distance of the man himself. He acted as if some incident lay between them though she could not recall what it was, nor bring herself to ask him about it plainly there was some obstacle.  She noted he did not look at her as he once did and he seemed to grow uncomfortable when she came to near him. There meetings were short and carried on that way until he said he was leaving again.

Not long after the arrival back at Beorn's Hall  Hathcyn had resolved to return to the forest road. His talk was often against the spiders and foul creatures of the wood and he spoke eagerly to all about the opportunity and profit that would come from working on the road. So it was that when he left Harhold was with him as well as several other young men and a few of the men who had fled the Hall of Vig after the redemption of the slaves.  These men knew Hathcyn, some had worked on the road before, and some he had swayed with great earnest away from heading to the south and the work for promised gold.

Taking their leave of Grimbeorn the men made there way north to the road and were soon again heavy at work. Hathcyn now was Master of his small crew as the road work changed from clearing land to setting stone and patroling from the wayforts. Time passed for him swiftly occupied in the great endeavor of work and before long Grimbeorn appeared.  As was agreed at their parting Grimbeorn came north and he went with him. Harhold was to return south and asked if any news or message should be brought, but the Longspear shook his head and remained silent.

Once again with Grimbeorn he gathered his gear and prepared to follow where he led.

[GandalfOfBorg]

  lol I'll finish, just need to collect my thoughts.

[Eclecticon]

So, unless I've missed anything, we need XP and AP spends for Hathcyn, and Undertakings for both Beornings. 

[Telcontar]

Undertakings
Change trait Curious to Wary
Work on the Forest Road

XP/AP to follow

[Eclecticon]

Cool.  Sounds like we'll be seeing a new side of Hathcyn. 

[Telcontar]

He doesnt have the experience the other characters have and the woods put the heebeejeebies on him.

[GandalfOfBorg]

 
Undertakings
1) Heal Corruption
 

Craft -  1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 2d6 : 3, 1, total 4

2) Restore Road

[tomcat]

I am here, guys. I am reading along and liking the content.

I am just taking a mental break from Lord of the Rings - DoM for the moment.

I will go through all of your Fellowship Phase results and update the Fellowship thread. I am hoping you guys are all updating your character sheets with your AP/XP purchases, as well as any successful results on any successful Fellowship Phase actions (i.e. reducing , etc. )

Look for me to add a new Chapter thread at the beginning of next week, pending the finalization of any of your narratives in this Fellowship Phase.