"Had we time enough," says Arbogast, settled comfortably with his back to one of the hall's pillars, "I should dearly like to see both the Blood Moon raiders and their orcish allies, and these new enemies of Beorn's folk, driven back.  But the demands of beasts and crops will wait only so long, and I fear it will take some time to muster enough of my people to face an enemy host.   I think we shall only have time for one battle this season." 

He fixes his gaze on Grimbeorn.  "Little is certain in battle.  But I know that help from a friend, no matter how far flung or long removed, is never to be despised.  I will lend such weight as my name carries to the suggestion of an alliance with the Beornings against the Viglundings, in order that the bonds of trust and kinship that unite our people may be recalled, and made fast upon the field." 

"I have it from Men of Tyrant's Hill that Vidugalum would be king of all Wilderland.  In return for the aid of the Woodmen this year, perhaps Beorn would see fit to join with us next year as we remind the lord of the Toft that our people do not bend their knees to those who rule without right." 

He pauses to ensure that his companions' cups do not stand empty.  "The road is another matter.  Bandy has it right when he says that, were it to be re-opened, those who did so would stand to gain in wealth!  But it would enable the movement of armies just as it would enable the movement of goods, and in years to come we may have reason to be glad of such a thing, were it necessary to call on the aid of Dale, or of Erebor." 

"It seems to me that a small company, already assembled, would have plenty of time to scout the road with this Bofri in the time it took to muster our people's strength.  If you and I," he says, nodding at Grimbeorn, "were to carry the message to our respective elders, we could set events in motion and meet again once we are done.  We have all seen Bandy's map - perhaps we could find our way to the Hobbit inn?"

"Perhaps we should travel to the Toft and see what we may see. The raising of a Woodmen host would be slow I imagine and only happen at great need. Apparently the assembling of the elders for a moot is an extended task alone, never mind summoning men to war. The Men of the Mountain are too far for the trouble of the Toft to be their trouble. We are the only blades, save Mogrdred, that seem capable of traveling the Vale and seeing to the dangers of others. If we depart by the last week of Gwirith (first week of April) we could accomplish much this year. Depart with Bofri to the road to head east and return west by Nórui  , Cerveth could see us in the Toft, and Urui or Ivanneth could see us north with the Beornings with enough time in left before the snow to make an expedition with them along the border. That would be a hard road of toil, and the winter would see us in the north instead of here in the south. There seem to be more troubles then there is time. If we refuse Bofri, we could see what the Toft can tell us and spend the early summer working with Mogdred to attack that threat and then head north to the Beornings to have more time to see how things stand and to force a peace with the northmen. The White Wizard told me to keep back the foes to give him time and I aim to do that, books and songs, will have to wait for when peace returns or other stronger folk take up the call to arms."

The Halfling made an odd appearance with his sword buckled upon his side, maps rolled upon the table. By his words he sounded like a great captain of men speaking the councils of war, very far indeed had the Hobbit come from the Northfarthing, and doubtful it was if he would return again at all, never mind return as a changed worldly Hobbit.

It is cool to read how these characters have all come to gel, after the odd first few threads that started our story. The hunt and the kill of Urska the Bloody-muzzle were forever ago, but the characters have all come together great despite their differences.

RPG'ing is awesome!

---

As the companions spoke, a serving girl approached the table with a full pitcher of ale - none of them had requested it. Bandy reached into his pouch to pull forth a coin for the girl, but she shook her head, "No need, sir Hobbit. The pitcher was provided you by the Dwarf across the room."

They all looked across the hall to see Bofri sitting by himself, looking towards them, and smoking his pipe. He smiled a big toothy grin and gave a wave when the companions turned their gaze his way.

"It would seem your Dwarven kin, Rorin, is earnestly trying to win our favor," smiled Esgalwen. "I see no fault in Bandy's plan. Let us scout this road with Bofri, and return along the southern route and visit this town of which you speak. Grimbeorn? Rorin? What say you?"

Arbogast nods his silent approval of Bandy's plan.  Even if the Fellowship of the Helm cannot resolve the northern and southern threats by itself, the information they gather will be invaluable in gathering strong men and sharp spears to do so. 

Grimbeorn puts in his two silver pennies.  "My father believes that I waste my time now with many summers spent here instead of my homeland.   And more he is skeptical of my ability to gain assistance from this fellowship, let alone the folk here in the south."  He goes quiet for a moment.  "I don't fault my father in his view.  All have hardship and it will get worse with each year The Enemy remains in his dark land.  I fear that if I fail in bringing some aid that I will not have leave to return again."  Sitting up straighter with an air of stature, "I do not lead this group but put to you whether my service to these lands has not warranted some aid when asked and I all ask for are stout comrades at my side as I do seek peace and not war with the Viglundings.  If we are to go north, then I will accompany you as far as that goes and will seek the surest road to my lands, hopefully with you by my side."

"You shall have my bow and my sword as company Grimbeorn son of Beorn. The road east, observe the Toft, and then north to the aid of The Beornings. When the fellowship of the Helm rides forth who can stand against us!"

With Bandy's exclamation Rorin pounded his mug against the table, "Aye! Bandy speaks true, we are no force to be trifled with and our enemies will feel our wrath! Grimbeorn, you have given much and asked nothing in return. It would unfathomable to deny you in your time of need. I believe our small warrior scholar speaks wisely. It will be a year that tests our endurance, but our Fellowship will not falter."

Okay - let me put my head around the plan as stated -

1) you guys will help Bofri scout the western route of the old Dwarf Road and find this staff of the warden
2) circle round the south end of Mirkwood to come to the Toft
3) potentially help Mogdred in any attacks
4) head north to the Beornings and aid them in the border issues

Am I reading your post right, Tom? Let me know.

You have it exactly.

With Rorin's exclamation, the companions all looked to see a smiling Bofri standing near them. "I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you have decided to aid me! This will be an endeavour that will be remembered among the Dwarves forever - Dwarf, Man, and Hobbit - all of us working together to restore one of our great works! I will see to the material needs of our mission, fear not. I know you have a mount, but provisions will be paid in full from my accounts. Spring is upon us and the time is ripe for us to leave...say in two days? That will give you time to get your things in order and for me to gather the material needs, yes?"

Suddenly, behind Bofri, the form of Radagast appeared. Long unseen, the wizard had spent the better part of the previous season and all of winter away from Rhosgobel. Now he was there as if he had been all the time. "Beg pardon, my friends, but might I have a word with Arbogast?"

The Fire-watcher felt the wizard's eyes upon him, twinkling as they did under the bushy, unkempt eyebrows - which also looked to be tangled with small twigs and leaves. Excusing himself, Arbogast followed Radagast out of the hall and into the afternoon's fading sun.

"Poison! Poison, my dear Arbogast! A poison so deadly that I fear my leechcraft will prove useless."

"What? Who?" Arbogast became concerned. Was his family safe?

"Eh?" Radagast seemed confused by the questions. "Oh, Duskwater, eldest of the Rivermaidens! I fear she has been poisoned with the Shadow. Long have I sought her and she no longer answers me - though her sisters did, and they knew naught where she might be. Long has she watched and protected the Dusky River and the Black Tarn, but now the lake becomes choked with reeds and the water stagnant."

Arbogast was not shocked by the wizard's words - he knew this - and made the point to tell Radagast so.

"Answers... I must find answers. Shadow has returned to Mirkwood, I feel it. To the south, Sauron has declared himself anew!" Arbogast began to wonder at the old man's sanity - none of this information was new. Radagast continued, "Three...three Shades...I feel them. The most potent and foul resides within the fortress to the south. The others..."

"Radagast! We know these things!" said Arbogast, trying to bring the old man back to the present.

"Er, yes...yes you do." The Brown wizard blinked, "I am off again. I must find answers as to where Duskwater might be and what she needs. You! Your friends... the werewolf of Mirkwood! The spiders!"

"WHAT ABOUT THEM?" Arbogast could feel his patience ending with the seemingly maniacal wizard.

"The River-maidens," answered Radagast, now lucid and serious. "They used to protect the lands around the Tarn and west of the Dusky River from the beasts. With Duskwater missing, her sisters are afraid...and thus no longer do they protect the vale."

Arbogast had heard rumors - nursemaid tales - of the Werewolf of Mirkwood. It was said to be a horrific beast that could not be slain and it both prowled the wilds as a wolf, or walked upright like a man. Tales spoke that the Elves had driven it away in the early days of Middle-earth with light captured from the Star of Elbereth. If not for the horrors Arbogast had seen thus far, the stories would have remained such, but he saw the worry in the old man's face.

In a whispered voice, "You must prepare your folk. You all must be ever vigilant." And then, "I must away...Duskwater must be found."

Arbogast watched as the brown-cloaked man strode quickly away with a gait that seemed too vigorous for the old body. He turned back towards the hall only to see his companions, all standing on the porch of the great house, looking at him.

"The Shadow closes in about us, my friends.  He goes in search of the Maiden of the Black Tarn, who he fears is brought low by some poison and stolen away from her home.  In the meantime, we are to fear the Werewolf, which now troubles the Western Eaves." 

"I suppose fate is drawing us to travel these western eaves then -- the road, the staff, and now this nightmare beast.  We shall kill two orcs with one swipe, or so my father says," quips Grimbeorn.

Bandy contemplated for a moment.

"The rivermen told me that the waters of the lake were acting strange, how long will the Tarn be habitable if naturual and unnatural enemies are aligned against it?"

"Few could withstand such hardship, but the Woodsmen of Black Tarn are a strong people. Let us hope that Radagast can find this Maiden that he speaks of.

But as for the Werewolf, let him show his beastly face! We have a hardened monster killer among our ranks!"