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The decision made and approval given by the remainder of the council, Esgalwen led Grimbeorn, Hathcyn and Arbogast from the tent. Behind them, Mogdred and his folk marched off in their own direction. They knew that though neither side would hinder the other, there would be no mutual effort made.

"Where do you lead us?" asked Grimbeorn.

"We need horses. I am sure you have access to a paddock here, but our tent is not far and we have a number of strong horses ridden here from Dale."

They entered the Barding camp and then men there looked to the ranger. As emissary for Bard, Esgalwen was essentially their leader - though her lead was limited, as she was not a Barding.

"M'lady?"

"We need three horses, Ornolf, for Grimbeorn and my other two companions. Have the pages saddle mine own along with the others."

"M'lady? Why?"

"There has been a murder and Grimbeorn has been chosen to lead a party to retrieve the perpetrators and I will accompany them. The horses shall be returned in good time, but time is at a premium and our camp was closest."

"Very well, Esgalwen, I shall see it done." Immediately the man strode off to see that the horses were prepared. It took just over the amount of time needed for each hunter to gather their personal effects. The men noticed Esgalwen was once more adorned in her ranger greens and the cloak given them by the Elves of Mirkwood.

With all ready, they quickly rode to the campsite where the Toft-men were killed. If there was a trail, it would start there.

:ooc: Okay - time for some narrative / dialogue and some rolling of dice! It's been a while.

Let me know what your character wants to do to start this merry chase and I will be working on some journey rules and tests.

"Are we not to join the others? I told Mogdred that I would ride with him, and a pursuit of our own will sew little solidarity among these rival clans."

"Your offer was handsomely made, Longspear," Arbogast answers.  "But Mogdred, in the absence of wise counsel, lives as if it were still the dark days before the death of the dragon, seeing enemies all about him and hoarding his trust like a miser's silver.  Had you followed him, and not Esgalwen, I do not think that he would have suffered you to ride out with him." 

:ooc: This is good dialogue - feel free to choose as you please, though. I am not railroading the game for you guys.

"I agree with, Arbogast, on this - but I do not lead here. I merely have provided a resource to allow an expeditious start of our task. I defer to you all as to what and how we deal with this issue. If you feel it wise to ride after Mogdred, then let us do it, Hathcyn. It is not my intent to keep you from your word."

"If they speed off and catch someone along their path, that is all well and good, but we intend take the slower route so as to ensure any signs weren't missed.  Whomever killed the men is someone not to be trifled with given the details gleaned by the careful eye of our friends. We can only hope that Mogdred and his folk don't take matters into their own hands, meting out their justice on the spot," said Grimbeorn.

"Harder it will be to temper that wrath if he rides only with his own people. Who will assuredly drive him towards a rasher outcome than a peaceful one."

"The wolfslayer has spoken, let us take the slower road and see what may be seen."

Then let us away and hopefully find the truth, so as to assuage any rash actions."

---

:ooc: Okay - time for our first roll. This will be for the characters to find a trail from the tent and to be able to follow it.

The TN will be only 14 and each PC must make the roll. The cumulative of their rolls will be added and must achieve at least a 48 for total success. If a character individually fails, it is okay as long as the remaining three's cumulative achieves the group goal. I will roll for each PC to keep the game moving:

Hunting
TN -- skill info

:ooc: Nice!

---

The companions did not need to spend a great deal of time at the murder site. The transit in  and out by the assailants was relatively clear, though there had been many new feet since the killing. With their course before them, they rode off in haste with a hope that they would be the first to overtake the perpetrators.

Once afield, the task became more difficult as the wind blew the tall grasses and seemed to make the path shift. Mogdred and his people had gone before them at great speed - the horses' hooves digging out divots - which only muddled the track further. But the hunters were good and they had spent many days in such pursuits.

The morning sun rose and crossed through its zenith - the heat of June already oppressive. Greens - a multitude of greens - was the color that filled their vision until it at last met the distant gray of the mountains and then the azure blue.

A perfect day if not for the situation.

Somewhere between them and the Misty Mountains was the Anduin River but it would take the day to get there.

It was at mid-afternoon that Hathcyn stood in his saddle to better see before him - riders approaching. The quartet gathered close together and prepared weapons in case this was a new trouble, but their fears were for naught.

Mogdred rode at the lead - a grim look upon his face. "Heh! I see you tarried," he said when the two groups were within range of speaking.

"We have carefully followed the path to assure that the murderers did not separate," answered Esgalwen. "I see you riding in the opposite direction. Did you find something?"

"Yes. Your efforts have been futile, as was our more direct approach." Mogdred pointed behind him, "Maybe five miles in that direction you will find them - three dead men - filled with orc arrows. Looks like they were feathered as they ran. They are naught more now then carrion."

"Who were they?"

Mogdred shrugged as he shook his head, "They are no folk that I have seen - bandy-legged and swarthy. But they are dead and my people - at least in a way - avenged." The Toft chieftain spurred his horse forward, "Feel free to keep riding after them, you will surely find them where the buzzards float on the wind. For us, this matter is complete."

Hathcyn said nothing, it served their phrpose for Mogdred to consider the matter closed. Yet, in the mind of the Longspear he wondered, what about the other creature the lads spoke of?

This would require more investigation.

The feeling of a new journey beginning is a familiar one as Arbogast rides out in the company of his companions.  But it is not long before he is seized by a new and unfamiliar feeling of panic at the thought of leaving his wife and daughters behind.  What if some fell adventure should befall them while he is absent?  In this dark mood, the myriad terrors and dark things of Middle-Earth seem to him to be everywhere but where he is, and to conceal themselves in every place but where his gaze currently falls. 

So it is with a manic relief that he hears the news of Mogdred, and only a distrust of the man that is by now habitual makes him suggest "we ought to see these bodies with our own eyes".  For in his heart, he wants nothing more than to turn once more for the Field of Heroes and ride until he has his family in his arms or his steed drop dead beneath him. 

Hathcyn responded, "I'll never forget the steading and what the orcs did there. If there are Orcs about then i shall set my sights upon them. Even our foes they shall not kill with impunity."

Hathcyn spit upon the ground, "I am already geared for war, now a new quarry shall feel my spear. Which way did they go and in what number?"

:ooc: I will update the story tomorrow, guys. I thought about getting something done tonight but I am exhausted.

Large birds circled in slow, lazy circles in the late afternoon sun, as the companions approached.

Mogdred had spoken truthfully. Three bodies were easily seen laying afield - vultures standing over them while cautiously watching their surrounds. With the riders' approach, the carrion birds either took to flight or hopped away from the perceived threat.

"They did not even bother giving the dead a clean end," said Esgalwen. The three men nodded in agreement, but none saw an easy way to provide such an end. Groves of trees sparsely grew across the horizon, in all directions, but there was no convenient wood for a pyre. Nor did any of the companions believe that the Toft-men would extend themselves to dig a burial pit.

They looked at the dead men - all three were pierced by not a few black arrows. Hathcyn could see that the men were taken from all directions. They had been led into an ambush? Orcs? In the light of day? None of it made sense to the Beorning.

---

:ooc: I will let you all narrate and dialogue about your character's actions. Will they investigate further or leave the dead for the vultures? Make the rolls you deem appropriate and I will provide answers and new details based on your successes.

:ooc: A quick preliminary question - how close are we to the river?

 :ooc: it is two hexes to the river, so 20 miles, the hex just north of the Elf Tower.

Hathcyn had a burning, almost irrational hatred for orcs. The sight of their fletched arrows brought back to his mind the massacre at the steading. His desperate stand to keep the way clear for Grimbeorn and the last guardian over his friends mutilated body.  The memory stoked his fire to a red hot burning.

With a spring he dismounted and looked at the bodies. First he tried to see from where the men hailed from, and then he looked at the arrows of the orcs. He pulled one and examined the arrow head and the fletching. The color and way they were affixed would perhaps give him a clue.

Then he checked the area around to see where they may have come from, and what manner of Ambush they had sprung, whether planned or hasty.
 

Ooc: i will use Enemy Lore Orcs for an auto success on my investigation and then roll awareness and Hunting for the particular situation and where they came from and went to.

Awareness



Hunting

 :ooc:
That should be two great success.
 :csu:  :csu:
Who's updating character sheets these days?

 :ooc: I think this is our first series of real tests. Great rolls!

Going to shower then I will update the story with your results.

Hathcyn shooed away a large buzzard which made argument of its interruption through a series of croaks.

The smell of death was already heavy over the three men, the day's sun hastening the decay. Their skin, though blanched atop and looking badly bruised where their bodies met the ground, still was darker than those that lived in the vale. The Beorning had never seen the swarthy men of the east, but had heard tales from those that lived on the eastern eaves of Mirkwood. Merchants and travelers told of the six great tribes of the lands of Rhûn - the Sagath, the Brygath, the Asdriags, the Gathmarigs, the Odhriags, and the Kykuria - many of them wain-riders. They migrate across the seas of grass taking what they pleased, making only few permanent settlements, and harrassing the folk of Dorwinion. Some said they worshipped the Shadow and gave their devotions to Him.

But why would such men of east and south be so far north? Why here? Were these the assassins of which Esgalwen spoke? Yet they lay dead upon the field, apparently ambushed like any other common person.

The arrow he had plucked was in his hand. Hathcyn looked at the shaft. The wood was strange - none that he knew from the breadth of Mirkwood, and many were the types of trees there. Strange, too, were the feathers that fletched the shaft - not like any quill from a bird of the wood, but that of the mountains. They had been fired to harden the wood marking their craftsmanship as far greater than any orc-tribe of Mirkwood.

What new machinations were afoot?

Hathcyn stood and quickly moved about the bodies to find signs of where they came from and to where they went. The grasses about were hard-matted, as if large things lay in their cover. These ambushers then quickly stood and filled the men with arrows. Raw mud was churned up by heavy boots. Then he saw it - there among the prints... a small hand and what looked to be a bare-foot.

He followed the trail a short way. The grass thinned over an area of rocky ground and again within the soil was the imprints of a small foot and hand. A child? Or maybe those small people that were only hinted at in song? Like the one that Arbogast and Grimbeorn were so fond of - Bandy-bras?

From the clearing, a trail could be espied in the grass that continued on to the river some miles away. It was not easy to spot, but it was there.

Hathcyn shared his observations with his friends and indicating the trail to Esgalwen went back to the dead men.

He squatted and Gazed at the men. He looked at their gear and their equipment. They came from afar but he looked to see if they had been equipped locally.

There gear was weathered cared for and traveled. The Orcs had looted them for treasure, but Hathcyn checked them for simpler 'worthless' items. He looked at their food, their personal items, anything that could tell him in greater detail who they were, and who had aided them when coming so far west.

"These are men. If they came this way headed towards the river they had some expected means of egress, perhaps we may find this as well as the orcs. A half man was with them, but he travels almost more like a beast than a man."

:ooc: Esgalwen will add to the hunt to make sure she is seeing what the Hathcyn is pointing out.

TN 14 hunting 2d


TN 14 search 2d


I also want to roll an Lore roll to see how familiar she is with the Easterlings

TN 14 lore 2d

"These men bear the markings of the south, but they are Easterlings. Many times have we in Gondor dealt with raiders out of the lands of Rhûn, but certainly not as much as those of Dorwinion."

She helped Hathcyn search through their gear and pockets but found nothing. The Beorning had the same luck. It was apparent that their killers picked them clean of personal items. The dried foods that were in their pouches were standard trail provisions - dried meat, fruit, and varied nuts. It was nothing that could not be attained within the vale.

Esgalwen looked to see the trail that led towards the west and the Anduin River. The Gladden Fields were there, too, and that would make for a hard search.

"The trail is before us. Do we continue? We are little provisioned if we are to follow into the marshes."

"Well Grimbeorn, your thoughts? We could bury the bodies and the other two can ride back for provisions."

"There is merit in your plan, Longspear," Arbogast says, "but I say we must forge ahead together or not at all.  We must keep the pursuit hot, else lose our quarry, but we know not what dangers may lie in wait ahead."

As Hathcyn opens his mouth to protest, the Fire-watcher adds "and if we are slowed by the need to find food, then so is he whom we pursue."

I've wintered at the frugal table of dwarves, so I'm not unaccustomed to long work and short food. The decision is Grimbeorn's in my case. I offer my advice and my service to him, but it is his word that directs where they shall be applied and how."

Hathcyn continued as if he wasnt there present and smiled as he did so.
"Also, he dislikes lordship and command so I know he can be trusted."

"We are neither provisioned for such a venture but we also have matters to attend to back in Rhosgobel that must be attended to before any trek should occur.  The events' end is nigh and some have families to see about.  If you believe we can chase down the culprits by day's end, then I say we go forth now.  If not, we bury the dead and discuss the next plan of action.  Mogdred may have said he's content, but who's to say his people will be?"

"Loathe I am to allow these brutes to roam free across any lands, but I do not think we could catch them today, and we dont know in what number they are."

Though he does not say as much, Arbogast's heart is buoyed considerably by the discovery that the companions' quarry are Men, not Hobbits that might disappear in plain sight or unnatural shades bound to the service of the Eye. 

"Then let us return," he says, "to settle our business and prepare for the trials that await us."  And let us bid farewell once more to our loved ones, he adds only to himself. 

The hand axe came quick to the Longspears hand and he began cutting some sods of turf.

"Come Firewatcher, they may be villains and murderers, but we may at least cover them in sod."

Then seemingly oblivious to the task at hand he began to whistle and hum working songs to pass the time.

The hatchet rose and fell quickly and soon he began prying out sods of turf to cover the bodies with a meager grave.