CHAPTER 13 - The Redeeming of Duskwater

[Eclecticon]

Southward fares the Fellowship of the Helm, in the days of summer's wane, the morn after their council upon the hillside, and for a week thereafter until they pass once again the gate into Woodmen-Town.  The folk of the nearby clans gather to them to hear the news they bring from the Road: of brigandry that has left the Forest River flowing with broken barrels and spilled wine, to the great dole of the Elvenking and his court; of Barding children vanishing from their homes only to emerge from the forest miles away, speaking of beautiful elves feasting under star and bough; of the echoes of a goblin host moving beneath the Misty Mountains, and a call for aid from Hartfast of Mountain Hall. 

A more precious thing still do they bear, though hidden from the eyes of all but the wise: upon his belt, Hathcyn bears the stone he took from beneath the city of the Éthéod.  This Aestid has wrapped in soft leathers well and tightly-sewn such that no sign of it is visible.  "Lest its light attract the eyes of those for which it is not meant," she explained as she pressed it into the hand of her husband. 

Atop the low rise, in the Hall of Balthi, they find Radaghast awaiting them, though himself not long before arrived.  Their meeting with the Brown Wizard is scarcely comparable to their audience with the elders of the clans when last they ventured here.  Then, they came bearing news of war and sought that all should know of it and gather to respond.  Now, they are afforded a corner not far from the light of the Lamp, but not close to it either, and a space is left conspicuously about them for their privacy.  There are fond greetings once again exchanged and final plans made before a departure before the coming dawn. 


This is a quick opportunity for some RP, and any specific preparations you want to note before the adventure proper begins.

[Telcontar]

  paul how do you want to handle gear? A specific list or some fatigue points shared out for what we might need?

[Eclecticon]

Though it flies in the face of my bean-counter-y instincts, I like the way TOR abstracts almost all gear-related questions.  It's not autumn yet, but if we assume autumn-weight travelling gear, I'm comfortable with just being able to declare what you're carrying.  That said: remember that standards of living affect the availability of resources and that you'll have to literally carry anything you want on your backs - the depths of Mirkwood are functionally impassable to horses. 

[Telcontar]

  so I am thinkin our primary needs will be light and water.

I'd like to do some research or ask around, unless I already know, how far in we can go before the water gets questionable.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn inquires as to the Brown Wizard's plan as to where they will enter the forest, how far they must travel, etc.  As Thranduil claims all of the forest as his domain, have the Wood-elves been made aware of their journey and their permission sought?

[Eclecticon]

Hathcyn poses his question in the half-light of the hall, and the faces of Radagast and Arbogast immediately shed their carefree miens.  "The further we go from the river," the Fire-watcher answers, "the harder we shall find the gathering of water, for the trees of the deep wood are old, and their deep-sunk roots drink greedily." 

"But still," the Brown Wizard adds, "there are places where water is to be found, and where it may be trusted.  Were you going without me, I would counsel you to favour small springs over large pools, for those that lie without a ripple in the gloom may well be witchwater." 

"Witchwater?" asks Esgalwen as she lounges against the wall.  "I have learned much of the worser ways of Middle-Earth since first I set foot without my father's  door, but not of this." 

"It is a thing of the southern forest," the wizard responds, his brow furrowed with concern, his eyes distant, "though with the spreading of the Shadow it can now be found in many places north of the Narrows.  I daresay," he adds, his gaze suddenly fixed on the Ranger, "that there are pools you knew in Ithilien that now bear the same taint."  He turns to Arbogast and asks "Do you remember the rhyme?"

The Woodman's face breaks into a sardonic grin.  "I have told it to my daughters often enough!

  Glimmering, shimmering down by the clearing
  Under a shadowing tree
  Witchwater's waiting to catch the uncaring
  And nobody knows it but me. 
  Green in the evening and blue afternoons
  Silvery under the stars
  Witchwater's beautiful, glowing and beckoning
  Calling with dangerous charms.

  Enchanted and dreaming, I'm here in the clearing
  I wait by the shadowing tree
  Centuries pass since I looked in the water
  But time doesn't matter to me.
  Whoever you are and whatever you're seeking
  Hurry away and be free!
  Don't look in the water - the fathomless water
  Or you'll be a statue like me!"

With his last words, the Fire-watcher strikes a pose that is at once horrifying and ridiculous, such that Hathcyn and Esgalwen giggle despite themselves, and even Grimbeorn gives a mirthful snort.  "It is a rhyme of warning for children," he concludes, his face growing serious once again, "but the peril it warns of is real." 

"And what of the Wood-elves?" Grimbeorn asks Radagast.  "We venture into lands that the Elvenking claims for his own.  Ought we obtain his permission?" 

The wizard's substantial eyebrows raise slightly.  "He may claim every tree by right so old that only the likes of he and I recall it, but it is the spiders, and not he, whose word permits passage through the deepest parts of the forest.  I had not thought to obtain his leave to strike at his ancient foes, and we have not time remaining to do so, for the Parliament of Spiders meets all too soon." 

"Aye," Arbogast finishes for him.  "And so it is that we will cross the river, before dawn if it may be done, that as few as possible mark our departure or guess our destination.  The attention of the Enemy we must shun, and secrecy ought be our watchword when we travel outside the lands of the Free Peoples."

[Telcontar]

  the Brown is coming with us?

[Eclecticon]

That's the plan, yeah.  I mean,if you wanted to argue against that, you could...

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Riddles and omens in all his answers," thought Grimeborn.  "It is a wonder we understand anything that comes of his mouth."

"I will say all is the better with you in our troop," remarked Grimbeorn, "as I feign not any ability to speak with the creatures with a tongue more agreeable than a viper's hiss."

[Eclecticon]

Nice.  If anyone else wants to pipe up, I'll leave the thread open for a bit and then move the story on tomorrow.