SCENE 4: The village of Tulis

[tomcat]

Turumarth swooned from the vicious scimitar strokes that cut into his body. The man of Dale knew his life would soon be over and he would never get the opportunity to see the ancient Dwarven Hall. He staggered back, the world around him in slow motion, and the two orcs grinned as they came forward. A ringing began to fill the man's ears as he slowly began to fall to the ground, but he was sure that beyond it, he heard an almost imperceptible twang of a bow.

One of the orcs in front of the mage lifted his sword to make a killing blow, but then suddenly a feathered shaft smashed into his throat. The fell-creature dropped his sword as both hands went to his throat and black blood spouted out. As quickly as the first arrow appeared, three more struck the creature's body and it was knocked backward on the ground. The orc writhed in pain as it slowly died. Not far from it, its companion lay already dead, an arrow shaft having smashed into its brain through the eye.

The orc and warg attacking Bornoge received the same, as arrows, expertly fired by the hunters of the river-folk, impaled them. In moments, the battle that seemed to be weighing against the company came to an abrupt halt and Vari and Nori, along with Gumbo and Kori could do naught but look around in wonder as boats full of men landed on the beach. At the fore of one of the craft stood Caranmîr, the Silvan Elf loremaster. He hopped from the boat as it ground ashore, and quickly strode to where his companions panted and made final end to any of the surviving enemy.

"I was in the nick of time," he said, looking at the wounded Bornoge and Turumarth. "Come, let us quickly get the wounded across the river where we may tend their wounds with herb and boiling water."

[Cut]

Carnmîr is shocked when he sees the shape that some of his companions are in. Maybe I shouldn't have left them, he thinks. But then he realises that neither his magic nor is combat skill would have made any real difference. Only the strength in numbers supplied by the river people had turned this pitched fight in their favour. We need to be more careful in future encounters, he reminds himself.

After he has checked on all the party members, he hurries over to Turumarth, in order to get the wounded mage to the boats of the river people. With a muted voice he speaks soothing, healing words in the elven tongue, to calm Turumarth.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Bah! Elf, we dwarves are made of sterner stuff than you give credit," grumbled Nori.  "We could've finished these filth in short order."  With the enemy vanquished, the fire of battle cooled in his veins, but the ire at the elf's presumption remained.  He shrugged off any attempt a healer looking him over as any wound he'd received was superficial and the scars were a symbol of triumph.

[Cut]

"Bah! Elf, we dwarves are made of sterner stuff than you give credit," grumbled Nori.  "We could've finished these filth in short order."  With the enemy vanquished, the fire of battle cooled in his veins, but the ire at the elf's presumption remained. 

[OOC: Caranmîr hasn't spoken those thoughts out loud. He inspected the company briefly for major wounds, but turned to Turumarth, as he seems to be in need of swift healing the most.]

[OOC:] Nico, he might have been referring to my dialogue that I wrote for Caranmîr, before your post...

"I was in the nick of time," he said, looking at the wounded Bornoge and Turumarth. "Come, let us quickly get the wounded across the river where we may tend their wounds with herb and boiling water."

ooops, my bad. I am sorry for that

[tomcat]

[OOC:] Nico, he might have been referring to my dialogue that I wrote for Caranmîr, before your post...

"I was in the nick of time," he said, looking at the wounded Bornoge and Turumarth. "Come, let us quickly get the wounded across the river where we may tend their wounds with herb and boiling water."

[sdrotar]

Vári turned in shock. While he had not yet had any problems with the Orc rabble that fell to his axe, he had to admit that the strength their numbers provided was not in their favor.

The men had come in time to save Turumarth at least, and maybe all of them. He was proud as any Dwarf, but truth was truth.

He wiped his axe clean upon the grass at his feet, then put it upon his back and removed his helmet as he walked toward their newfound allies with a mix of appreciation... and trepidation.

[Telcontar]

Gumbo takes his pipe from a pouch at his side and quickly filling and lighting it address the Woodmen, "Hale, amd well met Men of the Anduin, masters of water and wood. I am Gumbo Bellybottom at your service. we have with us one of your number. We found a lad of your people in the woods back aways. We would also palaver with your Cheif when this bussiness is settled and break the fast with you."

[tomcat]

"All will be spoken of once we are safely across the river," said an elder amongst the river-folk. He hefted the longbow that he carried and with silent signals, commanded his people to help the company with their wounded. "The barge will be here momentarily to bring both wagon and horse across."

An hour passed and finally the company was safely across the river. Turumarth and Bornoge had been taken into a simple looking hut where three ladies of the tribe saw to their wounds. Stange smelling herbs were boiled and a green, meally paste was concocted and spread across the mage's scimitar gashes. "It will draw out any poisons that the yrks may have coated their steel," said one of the women in answer to Turumarth's questioning gaze. "Filthy beasts!" the woman spat.

Nori and Vári, along with the elder Dwarf, had made themselves comfortable around the fire after seeing to the wagon, supplies, and horses. They all marvelled at how primitive it was that these people lived. Fish lay cleaned and fileted, upon rocks that lay atop hot coals, cooking. A simple, large metal pot hung on a three-legged truss and steam billowed forth as onions and potatoes boiled.

The homes that the river-folk lived within were fashioned of wood branch framing that were then covered with bales of tightly tied field grass. Within each were few furnishings - only simple straw mattresses and the few possessions each person owned.

The Elf sat there and quietly talked to the elders. Caranmîr had not had too much trouble appealing to the river-folk for aid, especially when he had told them they had found the boy, and now he secured more trust with his quiet words. Gumbo also say nearby and spoke to one of the fishermen about pipeweed; his own glowed with a burning ember.

[donimator]

Turumarth asks the ladies about the methods they use to heal, curious to add to his own knowledge (Healing(Treat Wounds) +5). He inquires of recent events along the river and tells of his life in Laketown and plying the rivers of Rhovanion in trade. Finally he asks about any recent troubles with the 'yrks' - any increase in numbers or range.

[Telcontar]

Gumbo, never short on words, took to explaining the merits of pipe smoking and the necessary skills required with gusto. After demonstrating the technique he scratched his head in thinking and not for the first time the happy voice of the Hobbit rose up in song.

This Hobbit weed, now withered quite,
Though green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay;
All flesh is hay:
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The pipe so lily-like and weak,
Does thus thy mortal state bespeak;
Thou art e'en such, -
Gone with a touch:
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Then thou behold'st the vanity
Of worldly stuff,
Gone with a puff:
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defiled with sin;
For then the fire
It does require:
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And seest the ashes cast away,
Then to thyself thou mayest say,
That to the dust
Return thou must.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And that my lad is all you need to know on the subject and set to a tune. Now the fashioning of pipes is easy, in fact.....

[GandalfOfBorg]

All the others seem to get on with the Men in the village but Nori keeps his distance and to himself.  He didn't fancy himself intolerant but folk who pop up out of almost nowhere and live in such conditions... well he just wasn't sure about how to interact with them.  Queries of him are met with grunts or brusk answers unless he is speaking with one the party.

[tomcat]

[OOC:] I like your smoking song Telcontar! Thanks for taking the time to add to the story in this way. 

Everyone can check the XP table to see where your character is at. Turumarth may make a Wits test against a TN 10. If successful, he may gain +1 skill rank from the simple knowledge garnered from the nursemaids. You may add this to your Healing skill, or to Lore/Wilderness: Herbalism (if a skill is not possessed, it may be gained).



Between the companions and the young boy, the fate of the two youthful hunters was heard and again it was told how the company had come upon the boy, hiding in the river. The village leader expressed himself, "T'is not oft in these times that charity and aid is seen. We thank you, again, for bringing home the lad. Still we mourn the loss of his brother - every strong, young arm is vital for our tribe to continue."

Kori replied, "And we thank you. The aid given is greatly appreciated and it will allow us to heal before our trek continues."

"Where does your trail take you?" asked one of the elders. "We travel to the mountains and a Dwarven home where once we lived." Kori did not feel obligated to give anymore information than that. Still, although these were simple folk, legends of the dwarf realm of Moria ranged far. To most, it was a dark and foul name - a place where belched forth the ancient evils.

In the healing room, Turumarth questions the nursemaids that tend him and finds that though they are a simple people, they are wise in the ways of the land around them. They show him balms and poultices that are made from the plants and herbs that grow close to the Anduin. He also heeds the simple manor in which the ladies administer their care.

To his questions, one maid replies, "The yrks come from wood and hill - more so with the spring upon us. They come to take fare and pillage what they need, and then return to their holes. I think they do it just to be cruel, for they are adept craftmen in their own right."

[Cut]

After secluding the talks with the village elders, Caranmîr was en route to check in with Turumarth in the tent, when he heard the hobbit's voice. The singing reminded him of happy days in his home forrests, joined by his brother and their friends. Some nice and some sad memories came back to him, about singing and dancing in the woods. He brushed them away with inner determination and closes in on the smoking Hobbit. He offers a respectful bow to him and speaks:

"I offer you praise, Master Gumbo. Your plan, your idea and your combat prowess may very well have helped save our company today. It is a good thing, that our group has this many talents within it's ranks." Smiling towards the Hobbit, Caranmîr continues "and your marry song even tempts me to try out having a pipe myself once...".

[tomcat]

As was the custom of the river-folk, sentinals were set for the night and the small village settled. The company was made comfortable with a few items from their hosts, but mostly gear from the wagon, around the small fire. Each drifted off to sleep with the sounds of buzzes, girgles and clicks that came from the river... life was awakening from its winter sleep.

The night passed with no sign or sound of attacking wargs or orcs, and each of the companions woke feeling refreshed, save for Bornoge and Turumarth. The two wounded men, though more vibrant, still had a bit of a road to feeling themselves again. Still, the color in Bornoge's face had returned and he walked about the morning camp tending to things to help the folk of Tulis. These were his kind of people - simple and living as one with their world.

Kori roused and grabbed the pot from the wagon. He drew some fresh water from the river and set it on the fire to brew some tea. While he did this, he began to collect the few things that he had slept with and load them back in the wagon. He eyed the mountains to the west, trying to discern the three that housed the ancient realm. It took only a moment for him to locate Caradhras the Red and Silvertine sitting behind him. Cloudyhead sat just to the south of the other two, looking over the wide forest of Lorien. There was a spur of mountains that they would have to go round to allow them to enter the vale and proceed up into the Dimrill. They would also need to stay clear of the Golden Wood, for it was said that the Elves there abided no one.

Kori made a mental estimate, and figured there was at least one more week until he would behold the gates of his forefathers. He gave a grim smile.

He called to his nephew, "Nori, take inventory of the supplies."



[OOC:] If I am rushing the story for you guys, feel free to let me know that you wanted to do more dialogue. We are almost to the great realm, though!

Inventory of supplies:

Travel rations - hard tack, dried meat, vegetables, flour, etc. There is no particulars here other than there is enough food to make 300 meals (or 2 meals a day for 8 people for 18 days inside Moria)

Three kegs of water - enough to cover two days of drinking for 8 people (can be re-filled)

One and one half kegs of ale - to be tapped only when allowed

Two large bags of oats - for horses

2 Large oiled canvas' and stakes that will prop up allowing for 4 to sleep underneath

Four dwarf-made lanterns / 8 extra wicks

Two and one half kegs of lamp oil - enough to fuel four lamps and burn them for 10 hours a day for 18 days

Five large coarse fabric bags

250 feet of rope

Climbing equipment for two people (includes harnesses, cramp-ons, spikes and hammers)

Five backpacks

Eight blankets / bedding

Kori and Nori's own personal gear

[GandalfOfBorg]

Catching sight himself of the signposts of their destination -- the brothers Three.  "Almost a week to go, right, uncle?" Nori asked as he went about his chores.  "Almost impossible to believe that in a few days time that dwarves will return to their rightful halls once more, even if but for a short time."