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 :ooc: This is going to be a 3-leg journey, which we will roll mechanically for each leg and then narrate/dialogue out those results.

Leg One  will start at the Elf camp and travel north, crossing the Dusky River as it comes out of the Haunted Hill, to the Old Forest Road.

Distance = 60 miles (20 leagues)

Terrain = Daunting x3

Speed (on foot) = 20 miles per day

TOTAL = 9 days with 3 Fatigue tests; may roll Lore test TN 14 for advantage dice

:ooc: Advantage dice

• Arbogast invokes his Region Lore (Mirkwood) for 1 advantage dice
• Morirúsë will not make a lore test

TN 14 lore by PC

:ooc: Fatigue tests

Arbogast
TN 18 travel 3d




Esgalwen
TN 18 travel 3d




Grimbeorn
TN 18 travel 4d




Morirúsë [WEARY]
TN 18 travel 3d

RESULTS

• Arbogast fails 1 test and gains 3 Fatigue points
• Esgalwen fails 3 tests and gains 9 Fatigue points
• Grimbeorn fails 1 test and gains 3 Fatigue points
• Morirúsë fails 2 tests and gains 6 Fatigue points; he also rolled an :~~: hazard

This is 9 days of travel - I am rolling the Feat die to determine how many good rests you guys get in your encampments. The result x2 will be the number of :<3: restored from resting. An :~~: means 0, and a :g: means all have been recovered.

:ooc: Damn!!   >:D

• Morirúsë still has only 12 :<3: after the trek, and is WEARY

I still have to determine the Hazard...more to come.

 :ooc: morgoth blasted, ungoliant breeding ground of filth, dirty ugly woods!!!!! Stupid Second Born and their betrayal of Maedhros led to this!

 :ooc: it would be best not to trip over every damned root in the forest.  And there you go again!  (-D

:ooc: Hazard episode

Determining Role...


Determining hazard if challenge not successful

 :ooc: Morirúsë is fated to be redeemed or destroyed, not sure which, but good fortune does not follow the house of Feanor.

:ooc: Damn... well the :~~: on the one test means Role is not covered, which defines as:

QuoteThe LM chooses the worst option for the players: The character with the lowest skill in his role, bearing in mind that a Weary character can be worse (even with higher skill) than a lower skilled one.

The :g: rune on the other roll means I need to roll again...

SO - I am choosing Morirúsë for the role and the skill test is: Awareness TN 18

TN 18 Awareness 4d [WEARY]


Second, here is the hasard type reroll:

:ooc: And he pulls out a :g: !!! Auto-success!

That was awesome.

 :ooc:  :> how about some redeeming LM narrative.

Stagnant air; sweltering late summer, early autumn heat; and flies that buzzed and bit unmercifully.

The Company could not rest and so their legs and arms grew weak. Straps of armor, weapons, and packs dug deep into the flesh and made the skin raw, which in turn attracted the flies to the wet, sometimes bleeding, exposed skin.

Roots hitched up at unexpected moments and snagged a foot, causing a companion to tumble painfully to the forest floor. Pricker bushes grew dense and barred their path. All the while, Mirkwood broodingly watched them.

It was an estimated twenty leagues from the Elf-camp to the Old Forest road - a daunting journey in normal conditions, but made worse by the efforts of the forest. Like a giant living monster, the companions felt as if they were in its maw and the creature's goal was to consume them. They all knew that that would be the result if they did not keep moving.

Along with the pall of the forest came the heroes own misgivings. Esgalwen was a confident Ranger of Ithilien and she knew how to place her location based on the sun and stars, but they were hidden most days and nights and often she fretted their course. Arbogast worried the day when the sun began to set and the need to find a defensible location to rest; and Grimbeorn hummed and hawed over the food-stuffs.

The berries and fruits that grew wild were dangerous within Mirkwood, along with leaf and mushroom. The Beorning spent a great deal of time examining the growth to see if it should be consumed. The hunting was even harder - it was as if this area of Mirkwood had been stripped of all favorable game. To each of them came the memories of the spiders, and they knew that it was within this heart of the wood where they resided.

Only Morirúsë, even though weary, remained ever vigilant to his task and kept the company alerted to threats. Thus it was that they were able to divert their course around a large, brown bear and its cubs, as well as, a pack of boars that were rooting for food.

Days passed by and miles moved slowly under foot. Their packs diminished of the food stuffs they had taken from the Elf-camp, and waterskins dried. Hunger and weariness pervaded their attitudes and harsh words were spoken. The words raised tempers and there were times when it seemed the company would separate from one another...but in their hearts, they knew that choice to be death, and so they bit their lips and swallowed the anger.

"Will this damnable forest ever part and reveal the road?" asked Esgalwen in a voice that broke the silence of the forest. In truth it was not silent, but the clicks and buzzes of the wood were so ever-present that any other sound disrupted the moment.

It was not like the path they had taken in the north from Thranduil's realm. Though dangerous, the forest there was cooler and the trees were a combination of fir and hardwood. Needles and pine cones lay under foot, not twisted and knotted roots that vied for space in the earth to spread out. Nor was it like the pleasant eaves that were home to the Men of the Vale - with groomed paths and trails, roads and warrens. This path reminded three of those that marched along like that of the southern wood where lay Dol Guldur.

A new day and rain fell from above, though only small droplets made it through the canopy. Still, the air thickened and everything became damp. Grimbeorn's thick mane of hair lay sodden and flat to his scalp and beads of water dripped from the tips. As they walked, a putrid smell of death and rot began to permeate the air. Caution took them all and they slowed their movement, only advancing in small distances as they watched and listened.

Nothing came. Nothing was heard.

And then at last, the terrible smell was revealed. Hanging from branches above, bundled in white silk, the bodies of dead and desiccated deer slowly twisted and turned on the ropes of web. Grimbeorn calculated they had been dead for days and that it had to have been a small herd of the animals. The spiders were still very active in the forest, despite their losses at the beginning of the year.

The companions moved quickly on from the place.

More days passed.

It was getting to the point where no one would speak to the other. Nerves were as raw as their flesh. And then a new sound was heard - rushing water! The company raced forward towards the sound and the forest opened, of a sudden, into what looked to be a cave made of leaves and wood. In between the natural cavern, the Dusky River moved rapidly along. They all breathed a sigh of relief, for they had made it north to where the river began.

Now they only need cross it...

Morirúsë rejoiced when he saw the light and water. The sound of the messenger of Ulmo stirred his heart even in his weariness and he called out to the light and the water. As he did so the lamps he had cursed and fiddled with over nine days came suddenly on and bathed the companions in their wholsome light.

Esgalwen laughed a little, "Morirúsë, you have mastered the lamps at last!"

The elf shook his head with a wane smile, "water and light, was the answer, not root branch or stars as I had guessed." Having mastered the means of turning the lamps on he quickly doused them. Then taking a moment in quiet reflection he listened to the music of the river.

The water stretched before them, disappearing into the woods in both directions. It was a wide river, and it was fast - even here where it started its rush to the Tarn in the south.

The thought of the Black Tarn flooded Arbogast with emotions of longing and sadness. Once more he moved further away from those he loved, instead of back home.

The Noldo was pleased by the sight of the water, but he also knew the might of Ulmo - this would be no easy crossing.

Morirúsë walked out of the canopy of the woods to the shore of the river. Setting down his burdens he washed his face, neck, and hands in the waters of the Tarn.

"Come friends! Our walk was long and burdensome, let us rest a moment and ponder the crossing. I have saved a bit of the wine from the elf camp, now seems a good time to finish it."

Arbogast too takes the chance to lay down his burdens and rest a while.  As he does so, he happens to spy a heron, its wings spread to shade the water where it fishes.  Footsore as he is, such a chance cannot be passed up, for birds like this one are rife by the shores of the Black Tarn. 

"Friend heron," he begins, hoping that a polite interruption will be tolerated, "I pray you, when you fly south to be with your kin, find the woman who dances by the shore of the Tarn and tell her that her husband lives, and thinks daily of her and our children.  Tell her that I shall return as soon as I may."

The heron looks at him quizzically...


:ooc: There may be no need for a Song roll here, but just in case -

... and returns to its fishing.  But the Fire-watcher is at least able to retire to the riverbank, secure in the knowledge that he has passed his message on as best he can. 

 :ooc: the rivermaiden is going to be pretty confused by that mesage.  ;D

:ooc:  Nah, Duskwater don't dance no more.  Not since SPOILERS happened. 

:ooc: Paul and Tom - I really liked the posts. I am awarding all the PC's one :vv: point from Ulmo.

The others do not understand what Arbogast says - maybe Morirúsë does - but the Company all feel heartened.   :csu:

Tom - since Morirúsë doesn't need any hope, I am giving him a day's rest in :<3:    :csu: 

After a short period of rest, the companions stood once more and felt renewed.

But now they needed to cross the river, which meant they were going to have to swim. The only other option was to follow the Dusky upstream to its source and go around it. The latter option would take them deeper into the heart of Mirkwood with few points of reference, and so they decided to swim.

---

:ooc: It's going to take Athletic tests TN 14 to swim the river...

TN 14 athletics by PC

The companions determined the crossing would be safest in numbers, so as they might aid one another at need. They entered the water, which was still warm from the late summer sun and began the swim.

Arbogast and Esgalwen, burdened as they were, still swam the Dusky though the current carried them downstream. It was the Noldo who faltered. In his weary state, Morirúsë began to weaken midway across and the brown waters covered him over. The Elf was certain there was a voice in the gurgling water calling to him. Deep and low, but not clear in the words - was it Elvish that he heard? Was it the call of the Vala, Ulmo, telling him it was time to return to the lands in the West?

Even as his arms failed him and his legs knotted from overuse, Morirúsë resigned himself to the call of the water and the power it had over them all. But then, great arms reached under his arms and his head was suddenly back in the air. He gulped in the sweet breaths, even as he coughed and sputtered out water. Grimbeorn's deep voice was calling him, "Morirúsë! Elf! Do you hear me? I have you...just let me carry you. Do not fight me."

In moments, the Noldo and Beorning felt the muddy bottom under foot. The two scrambled to the river's edge and both lay panting in the mud and weeds.

---

:ooc: Due to Grimbeorn's :g: and Morirúsë weakened roll, I have the above narrative...add to it as you will.

"I knew bears could climb, but not also that they can swim. That was a mighty feat and I thank you for it."

Grimbeorn laughed at what he perceived was jest for the day was nice and the swim refreshed him.  "It was nothing for your kind are of no burden to me.  You are like the salmon my brothers swat from the rapids near the Carrock.  In all the years of your life, you never learned to swim?"

Arbogast indicates the mail rings girt about Morirúsë's upper body, bright in the sunlight.  "His skin shines like a salmon, too, though I think that even your brother bears would break their teeth upon it.  That our elven friend made it as far as he did under such a weight is no small marvel." 

Morirúsë ignored the barbed comment that came to his mind. The woods was bad enough on thier moods and he recognized that he was sometimes difficult for others to bear.

He rolled up his shirt and the black rings of mail glistened in the light like skin of a snake, oily and black.  "Indeed they would for these rings were made by the fathers if the fathers of dwarves in the Eldar days when the fashioning and making of things the Noldo and thier folk shared. Once I was arrayed and lived as a Lord, but now it is all that remains; this armour, and my sword of all the things I once possessed. Sharp indeed will the claws be that could pierce this mail."

Morirúsë then laughed, "though I should be better rested the next time I swim in it."

They rested in the sunlight for a bit and then turned to the looming forest. The shadow of the wood affected their moods and smiles turned to grim resolve. It was time to move on.

They passed from sparse daylight and blue skies back into the shroud of still air and shadows. The oppressiveness of the forest weighed on them once more, but they bent their heads to the task and kept putting a boot before the other.

None knew, but behind them in the Dusky River, a beautiful maiden rose up from the water shallows. Her hair was long and shone a dark shade of blue - in it was weaved lengths of river-plants and flowers. She was the youngest of the River-Maidens and her name was Silverbell. She made no sound as she watched the heroes march away and once more enter the forest.

Once her heart was happy - like the frolicking water that fast-flowed as rapids down the length of the northern Dusky. But that happiness was gone. Though she remained hidden most times, Silverbell was a protector of the river and the lands through which it traveled. With her was her sisters, Sunshadow and Duskwater, who each observed their own portion of the river, all the way to the Tarn. But now, one of them had been corrupted and it was bleeding into the waters she loved. Worse, it was bleeding into the plants and animals that relied on the river - and into the people as well.

A tear fell from Silverbell's eye to quickly mix with the wetness that covered her skin. "He has heard your plea, my kin of days long gone. Look for his blessings in times most dreadful, when no hope seems possible. He runs through us all and thus does he help guide." The River-Maiden's eyes left the figure of Morirúsë and fell upon Arbogast, "Son of Men, your words shall be heard. I will see them to your loved ones and they will know that you think of them, even as the Shadow falls over all. They will find the strength they need to make the choice they must, even as the world they know and love crumbles down around them."

Silverbell started to submerge, but first whispered before her lips were covered, "Hurry home."

Arbogast felt a warmth stir in his heart of Lindwine and his daughters - Cyffa and Lafwyne. In his mind he heard her, his wife, speaking of her love for him and smiling. He caught his breath for a moment - so beautiful was her smile. The thought seemed so real as if it were tangible and it stayed him in his pace for a moment.

Behind the Fire-watcher he heard a woman, "Are you okay, my friend?"

It was Esgalwen and her tired face strove to give him an encouraging smile.

The march lasted two more days and then a new noise broke the silence of the forest.

Thok! ... Thok! ... Thok!

The companions listened intently, but it was apparent to all who lived in the woods - or at least near them. It was the sound of axe-cutting. It was the sound of the Old Dwarf Road being cleared!

The Company quickened their pace and less than three furlongs later, they were standing upon a cobbled road. The forest was cut back from either side of it, though it desperately clung to its claim where it could. The stones set in the ground were broken, buried, or pushed up and out from the roots that shifted the earth below, but still it was evident that these were the cobbles laid by the Dwarves many years gone. It was not yet widened to allow for great traffic, but the old road was revealed.

Above them, the afternoon sky could be seen. Plumes of smoke roiled in the air, which pointed to the location of controlled burns. Bofri and Rorin the Dwarf had been busy indeed. Arbogast guessed on their location and estimated that the Millfort was at least twenty leagues to the west.

Twenty leagues! It was a truly massive feat.

As they stood there listening to the distant chopping of axes, the companions could feel a malevolence in the air. It was as if the trees now watched them with a bitter heart. The companions were certain that other things watched from within the woods, as well, waiting for an opportunity to stop the road's expansion.

Deciding it best to head west, towards the Millfort, the company moved in that direction. Their hope was to find Rorin and if not him, at least the Dwarf, Bofri.

Their fortune was with them. It was not long before they came upon the first group of woodmen. They were twenty strong and half of them chopped at tree trunk and root, while the other half worked in two teams to collect the debris and burn what they could. They were men, though, of Woodland Hall and from the vale - both Stonyford and Beornings.  Among them, too, were Dwarves of Erebor and they seemed to be giving direction to the woodcutters.

When the companions came into view, the woodmen quickly became cautious. The road was not cleared in the direction of the company and danger was always present.

A Dwarf strode forward, a large axe in his hands, "Who might ye be and what's yer business here?"

---

:ooc: Were going to run this like an encounter.

I will need (all TN 14):

• Insight tests from everyone for Encounter advantages
• If you want to contribute dialogue to the encounter, I need an introduction Awe, Courtesy, or Riddle
• If you succeed at your introduction, you may take part in the Interactions with Inspire, Persuade, Riddle, or Song
• Tolerance is set at 5 (based on Valour)

There is a brief, awkward pause before Arbogast realises that he is waiting for the absent Bandy to speak.  Quickly regathering his wits, he gives the Dwarf a formal bow, as he has often seen the Hobbit do.
 "Greetings to you.  I am the Fire-watcher of Black Tarn Hall, kin to many of these Men and friend to Rorin the Helm-smith and Bofri the Roadwarden." 


:ooc: I'm making a Courtesy roll rather than a Riddle one.  Arbogast isn't trying to conceal anything here, and this Dwarf is probably used to the way Woodmen don't give their real names out to folk they've just met. 



Also an Insight, while I'm at it:

:ooc: Ah, bollocks.  :roll:  I guess I'll burn that bonus Hope point to make the introduction a success.

:csu:

 :ooc:
 :00:
 :00:


"I am Grimbeorn, son of Beorn, heir of the Bear.  You will let us pass."

 :ooc: Oh brother, really?!

:ooc: Yeah, we're not at our best after days in the darkness.

 :ooc: first things first. Am I still weary?

 :ooc: yes, you are.

Your PC sheet is up to date.

No recovery in the two days from the river?

 :ooc: I was working on this in my head on the drive home yesterday and thought i would have some more time to fine tune the post. Anyway, this should come in right after we left the river and Doug's post about the River Maiden.



Morirúsë felt the burden of the woods soon after they had passed from the river and back into the wood's shadowed grip. The elf let his mind wander as the sound of the stream grew fainter as they passed. Just before the sound was gone, even from his keen elven hearing he stopped.

In the woods was a birch tree and nimbly the elf broke a white branch from the tree and quickly pruned it so that only a notch remained at the end of a few feet of length. He spoke to the group as he worked.

"Ages ago my folk passed this way. Far in the east we awoke, in a place now lost since the world was changed. A long journey under starlight our people made when the world was new. When I was younger I learned a song that they sang on their journey, a walking song sung by the father of my father. Perhaps the woods will remember it and let us pass more freely. I shall try and render it in the speech of men, it is not difficult and each may join or speak as they are moved to."

The Noldo elf took one of the Elven Lamps from his pack and brought it to light. Even though they were still in the hours of daylight the warm light of the lamp threw back the shadows of the forest. Placing the lamp in the notch of the branch he hung the lamp above and in front of the companions, like a guard and a guide.

"Here it is to the best of my hasty recollection turned to the tongues of men.

"In the west to the rolling seas.
In the west to the green country
In the west to see the shinning trees
Come along take my hand and we'll sing."

All of us, no time for sleeping
     All of us, no time for sleeping
West we go, to home unfleeting
    West we go to home unfletting

"In the west to the rolling seas.
In the west to the green country
In the west to see the shinning trees
Come along take my hand and we'll sing."

Come along tree and heather
     Come along tree and heather
Come along with fur or feather
     Come along with fur or feather"   

And so Morirúsë sang as the sound of the stream faded away and echoed only in his mind and heart, the light of the lamp throwing back the shadow of Mirkwood. In his song he called upon beast, and bird, and tree, and bough, to recall the light and not be afraid. To remember the Speakers and their invitation to journey into the west when the world was new.

Morirúsë let the mannish folks make their introductions before he spoke. While he had had dealings with the dwarves long ago their memory of Elves seldom recalled the friendship and alliance the Noldo of Ergion and the Line of Durin once held.

In this inhospitable place far from friendly fires and shelter he held the branch of the birch in one hand, the lamp now doused and put away. His free hand cask back his cloak and revealed the hilt of his ancient sword and the working of his dwarven wrought and Elven blesssed mail.

"Hail Son of Durin, Master of Stone, may the name of your father's fathers endure as long as the mountains, and the craft of your hands be a delight to your children's children. I am Morirúsë, long ago emissary of Erigion to Khazad-Dum. Empty your hand of the gear of war and take up the cup of peace."

 :ooc: 
Insight



Awe Roll

Quote from: Telcontar on Sep 28, 2017, 05:06 AMNo recovery in the two days from the river?

:ooc: I rolled for the first leg of the journey to see how much rest you would get for that leg - the leg ended at the Old Dwarf Road. The roll was an :~~: which was the one result I said would mean that Morirúsë did not get any comfort from his rests.

I awarded the rest at the river due to you guys giving me some awesome dialogue and narrative.

So, that is where we are and your PC sheet reflects his current condition.

If you guys make friends and decide to camp with the woodmen a while, it will be an auto-recover of fatigue and weariness.

Quote from: Telcontar on Sep 28, 2017, 05:49 AM:ooc: I was working on this in my head on the drive home yesterday and thought i would have some more time to fine tune the post. Anyway, this should come in right after we left the river and Doug's post about the River Maiden.

:ooc: Never worry about adding stuff to the story from previous posts. I love this stuff! I just don't wan to hold up the game on dialogue opportunities if they are not critical (i.e. the stuff I have above about Esgalwen seeing the trouble in Arbogast's eyes and trying to reassure him.)

Now that I have read it, I am granting a 3 point Fatigue reduction to everyone for the 9 day leg of this journey, so far. Unfortunately, Morirúsë will still be Weary.

Anyway...to the results.

Esgalwen
TN 14 Insight 1d

:ooc: Esgalwen's introduction test...she'll use her 1 advantage die, if necessary:
TN 14 courtesy 2d



This is the advantage die that I will determined spent if and only if it would be necessary, and make a difference

:ooc: Results

• Arbogast rolls a 10 failure for his Insight advantage dice; he rolls a 12 and adds 1 :vv: to succeed at his Courtesy Introduction  :csu:

• Esgalwen rolls a 15 success on Insight for 1 advantage die; she rolls a 15 :%:  success on her Courtesy Introduction  :csu:

• Grimbeorn rolls a 11 fail on Insight and a 5 :~~: failure on his Awe

• Morirúsë rolls a 9 fail on Insight; he rolls a 12 and adds 1 :vv: to succeed at his Awe Introduction  :csu:

Tolerance started at 5 but is reduced to 4 for Grimbeorn's failed roll

You guys may count 4 success to your Degree of Success in this encounter.

 :ooc: does Weariness affect social tests or just physical ones?
Awe is favoured for me so I'llburn a point to pass. Color me prideful.

:ooc: From the book...

As long as a hero is Weary, all the Success dice he rolls for any test that end up giving a result of 1, 2 or 3 (the outlined numbers) are considered to have rolled a 0 instead.

I updated your sheet for the :vv:

Changing my narrative now that I just wrote.

The Dwarf looked at Arbogast and nodded as the man introduced himself in a fashion that reminded him of a visitor to Erebor, years past. He was about to speak when Grimbeorn interjected with his own introduction and curt order for passage. The Fire-watcher could see the mood of the Dwarf change almost instantly.

That was when the Noldo stepped forward and unfurled his cloak to reveal armor and sword. Both were masterfully made by hands of Dwarves, and it was evident that the Dwarf marveled at their sight. His jaw went a little slack as Morirúsë spoke of elder days and times when Dwarf and Elf were friends.

"I am not too willing to be pushed about by any Beorning," Arbogast could see Dwarf's strong hands were still tightened white around the haft of his axe.

And then Esgalwen spoke.

"Master Dwarf, forgive us this intrusion. We are not marauders along your road and we mean no threat to any of you. We are travel-weary and it has affected our courtesies, but we are looking for our friends - surely you know them. As my friend Arbogast said, we seek Rorin and Bofri. One a former companion to us and dear friend and the other a business partner, for whom we helped restore the Roadwarden Staff. It was by our hands and theirs that the spider, Tauler was driven away and quiet was restored to the forest, if but for a while." She smiled, her face fair even though it was dirty from her travels, "Will you not at least give us a chance to speak?"

"Well...er..."

The Dwarf's hands eased up on his weapon. "I am Codi, and I am Headmaster for this company of axe-cutters. It was Bofri himself that hired me and I came presently from Erebor. So...who are you?"

:ooc: You guys may now roll your interactions...or not. You have 4 successes thus far and can leave it there and trust its enough on my DOS table, or try and better it.

Ooc: not this guy. I need a nap first.

"You and your Men have done well," Arbogast says, indicating the felled trees to either side of the road, "but you know as well as we that the Wood is loath to release its grasp on what it once has seized - your dedication to the security of the road is commendable.  If you would let us pass to the Millfort, as my friend has requested, we will commend you to the Roadwarden." 


:ooc: I'm guessing we'll be allowed to pass, but let's see what else we can wrangle from this guy.  Rolling Persuade:

Quote from: tomcat on Sep 28, 2017, 08:35 AMI love this stuff! I just don't wan to hold up the game on dialogue opportunities if they are not critical (i.e. the stuff I have above about Esgalwen seeing the trouble in Arbogast's eyes and trying to reassure him.)

:ooc: Sorry - I completely missed the cue there! 

:ooc: It's fine, Paul. It was not a narrative breaker - just an opportunity for inter-character dialogue.

 :ooc: men... pshhh

Obviously the road has gotten to Grimbeorn where even a simple introduction meant to be slightly grandiose turned into something gnarled and overbearing like the forest through which they traveled.  Even he realized that he should probably keep from speaking for awhile but his silence was even surly.

 :ooc: unless Paul wants to try anything else I think we are willing to let the 4 ride.

:ooc: Ahem, that would be the six, thanks awfully. 

:ooc: I didn't have anything else planned, though, in case you're wondering. 

:ooc: Hey Paul - yea, I am not waiting on anybody but me.

We have our Ren Fest going on this time of year and the weekend was slammed with all day at the fest with two of my daughters, and then Sunday pumpkin picking. Going to be there again this coming weekend with my wife, son and youngest daughter.

Needless to say, I have been tired and getting caught up on sleep. I will update our story tonight or tomorrow.

:ooc: No worries, mate.  Good to see you and the family looking well! 

Hey, a quick point of interest - any idea why they're called Renaissance fairs in the States?  Everywhere else I've been to one (i.e. here in Australia, plus Britain and Germany) they're 'medieval fairs'.

My guess is that Renaissance is more amorphous in terms of period and acceptable scope. If I heard Menieval I would think more Dark Ages. Renaisance is more fantastical, absurd, and with more cleavage.

Renaissance sounds cooler.

"The Millfort, eh?" The weapon in Codi's hands loosened and its axehead went to the ground. "Judging by the looks of ye, I don't think you'll be wanting to make the march to the Millfort...at least not yet. Come."

The Dwarf waved for the companions to follow and he called out an order to one of the wood-men to take up charge and see the day's work through. The weary heroes followed Codi for a few hundred yards down the now revealed Dwarf Road. Roots were still present, gnarled and rugged, as they protruded between ancient cobblestones. Brush still grew throughout the clearing and trees were ever-present along its length, but it was evident that Bofri's workers had made progress.

Codi turned off the road and towards a small wood structure that had been recently built from the wood that was being cut. It was rather crude in its aesthetics, but functional in its purpose - to provide shelter and safety for the Men and Dwarves who worked here. It was large enough to accommodate at least thirty, but the companions found it empty when they entered. It smelled of fresh, raw wood and sap. There was a wood floor, but the carpenters had not been too concerned about neatness, or splinters. Someone had fashioned a cook stove and firepit that escaped the cabin through its roof. Finally, there was a stack of extra long-saw blades and axes.

The Dwarf drew back the heavy leathers that hung over the few windows to allow what light there was to brighten the chamber. He sat on a rough stool and set down his axe. "We have constructed a few of these along the road, as we move east. It is our goal to make the hills by spring."

The companions all looked to one another - the haunted hills - is what each new the Dwarf to mean.

"You may rest here. I cannot offer you food - we are in low supply ourselves, but you can rest and heal. From here, you can decide to continue back towards the Millfort, just know it is 20 leagues from here. Bofri is there but he is always moving along the road to see what's been achieved. Can I ask...what are you doing out here?"

:ooc: Yeah... I was hoping we wouldn't have to get into that.  He's either going to have to pull his workers back to avoid them coming into contact with the Werewolf (which, I guarantee you, has a new body by now) or expose them to terrible danger. 

Who wants to tell him?

"An evil of the ancient days has awoken in the mountains of the wood. A fell twisted spirit that is bound to the form of a great wolf and hungers for light and living flesh. We have battled it once already and though its hame was pierced many times and we slew the beast it's spirit fled and will bend a new wolf house it. We are resolved to hunt it in its layer, though our road has been long and weary."

"We heard this beast, nigh on fifteen days ago. It was as if a nightmare moved quickly through the wood, and vanished to the south." Codi withdrew a long wood-carved pipe from his vest and proceeded to fill it with pipeweed from a small metal box. He then took a stick and lit the tobacco and puffed until it glowed. "As I said, I can't offer you any food stuffs, lest you decide you want to aid in a hunt. But we can certainly make room on the floor within our outpost here. It would be the least we can do for hunters as brave as you. By Balin's beard, I wouldn't wish to take on your path!" The Dwarf's mouth broke into a grin around his pipe. The company could see that he had a great gap between his two front teeth, and the tooth on the left was gold.

Esgalwen smiled at his glittering grin, "Well friend Codi, it would seem you have bitten into some treasure."

"Ha!" guffawed the Dwarf at the Ranger's joke, "I had it fashioned after I took a warhammer haft right to my chops. I spit blood and a tooth, and then I split the orc's skull." He patted his own axe that still sat near, but then his eyes drifted into a distant memory, "That was a great day... and a bitter day."

"Of what day do you speak?" she inquired.

"Why the day that Dwarves, Elves and Men held back the hosts of Bolg at the feet of the newly-won Erebor, M'lady. I speak of the Battle of Five Armies."

Arbogast seats himself on a rough-hewn stool.  "Well do I know the tale of that day, though I was but a boy at the time, and my people did not learn of the battle until the carrion-crows were long-sated." 

The noldo elf took the opportunity to remove the burden of his rings of mail and sat himself in a corner of the hut. The weariness was heavy upon him and in but a short time he slipped into a heavy sleep, more like to that of men than what was usual for the Eldar.

Grimbeorn knew full-well the events of that battle, for though he was but a cub, his father was there and told him of deeds of Men, Elves, and Dwarves.  It was such a sad tale to him at the fall of the King Under the Mountain and his cousins.  "So you turned for hewing stone in the Iron Hills and orc necks to that of wood and brush?"

Nodding at Arbogast's reply, Codi turned to Grimbeorn, "You could say that, although I have no problem puttin' my axe to work on an orc or two if they reveal themselves. But truthfully, it's not so much the trees, but the joy of being part of the restoration of one of my people's achievements. If I can help open the road, then I can put my name on it, too! That will be a deed that my youngers will speak of."

He drew thoughtfully on his pipe, "So what of you all - quite a company I see before me. Elf, woman, man and Beorning! I wonder at the tale that brought you together and to my doorstep. Do you really plan on marching to the Millfort before you turn east to the Mountains of Mirkwood? I'll not say it is as bad as it was, taking the road west, but nor will I say it will be easy."

"I think it was our goal to see friend old...and new, when we came north from the Elf camp near Woodland Hall," said Esgalwen. "We did not know how much Bofri had achieved, but we set the road as our goal for the first leg of our hunt. Rorin was our companion, in truth, and it was Bofri who contracted us to aid him in finding the Millfort."

"I have heard this tale!" smiled Codi. "Dark it is, and dreadful, but it seems that the strength of Aulë is within all of your meddle." The Dwarf chuckled at his own pun. "Rorin, too, is a boon companion. It was through his aid that Bofri won the backing of our king. Eh...your Elf-friend sleeps!" Codi hissed the last word in a whisper. "I will let you all get to your bedrolls, if you wish. If you wake and we are not here, you'll find us on the road."

:ooc:

• Arbogast is refreshed with the morning - no change in PC status

• Esgalwen reduces her fatigue by 1 from rest  :csu:

• Grimbeorn is refreshed with the morning - no change in PC status

• Morirúsë recovers 5 :<3:, and reduces his fatigue by 1 from his rest; no longer WEARY  :csu:

 :ooc: FINALLY!!!

Ps. I'm camping this weekend, but I may post a dream sequence for Moriruse at some point. I have been kicking the idea around but he seems to speak especially loud to me when I'm drinking bourbon in the woods.

Codi told the companions that there was a possibility that Bofri might make his way down the road to their outpost, to see the progress. The Dwarf was not completely sure, but still the idea of another day's rest did not seem to be an ill-idea. It would give Morirúsë more time to return to himself and it would allow them to ready their hearts for the longest, and hardest part of their trip - to cross through the Heart of Mirkwood.

The next day came and went, but there was no sign of their old friends. The Company needed to decide - would it continue its course towards the mountains, or would they spend the next couple days traveling west to the Millfort.

---

:ooc: Morirúsë recovers another 5 :<3:

Let me know what you guys are doing based on the above choices.

I am in the midst of preparing the next legs activities, so let me know via narrative/dialogue or an OOC.

Morirúsë did not know the dwarf personally, but only through the stories of his friends.

"I do not know what will be accomplished by tarrying here longer. Your friend is unlikely to come with us, and we are decided upon our course. Unless there is some other reason that I do not know about we should move on."

Arbogast nods his agreement.  "Greatly though it would please me to see Rorin once more, I fear our business will not permit us to tarry here.  There will come other times for the renewal of old friendships." 

"Good... the longer we tarry the further our quarry gets away and this place makes me restless," said Grimbeorn.