Ruithel and Arbogast watched as the newcomers quickly gathered up the fallen. Rorin and Grimbeorn were moved to a place that was more comfortable, along with the Hobbit. The Elf moved to the paddock with Damrod and two other grey-cloaked figures and looked to the captives there. They returned to Arbogast with grim news, "T'would seem that the few slaves that they held were too weak to endure such an onslaught of terror from the Shadow. None now live. How fares your companions?"

The Fire-watcher was still in a state of confusion. He looked wide-eyed at the men and his unmoving friends. One of the strangers was setting a small pot over the fire and bringing water to boil. In the pot he broke fragrant leaves that seemed to clean the air and to sweep away the cloud of confusion that hung over his mind. Arbogast breathed deeply and shut his eyes only to open them a few moments later with clarity returned.

Now able to think better, the Woodman watched as Bandy's brow was washed with a cloth dipped in the fragrant water. While the stranger did this, he whispered a cant that was barely perceptible but in a language unknown. Arbogast was both astonished and pleased to see Bandy's eyes fly open and the Hobbit breath in a deep succession of breaths. The stranger turned his attention next to Grimbeorn.

Arbogast watched him do the same, whispering "Return to us from the Shades that hold you." While one of the grey-cloaked figures did this, another along with Ruithel looked to the Beorning's wounds. Even as they removed the dirty bandages, Grimbeorn came back to consciousness in much the same way as Bandy moments before.

Damrod moved to the Fire-watcher, "I know that you are concerned, but do not fear - my companion is quite adept at the skills of medicine and leechcraft. It is through Athelas that the Shadow is chased away. Now tell me, Fire-watcher, what is your name - for no name of any man is what you have given. I am Damrod and I lead this group of Rangers of the North. We have traveled far from the hills of eastern Eriador in pursuit of information. We knew that there was new machinations within Angmar, but we did not know how far they reached. Now we do.

"So tell me what you know, and fear not for your friends. They will be okay." It was then that the healer looked to both Damrod and Arbogast. He was currently tending to Rorin, but he shook his head.

"This one does not hear me call, Damrod. I fear that he might be taken too gravely by the Black Shadow."

"Then we must move him from here quickly. We must get him to Amfossa...she will have the needed medicines and talismans." The northman looked to Arbogast, "Your friend is being corrupted by the Shadow even now, though the Nazgûl is gone. You must trust me in this - we need to get him to a healer. One who has more skill in treating the Black Breath."

Another voice spoke, softer, and female, "Trust them. They will aid you in this."

Arbogast turned to look at Ruithel. She was clad now in her items that had been cast amongst the orc's spoils. In her hand was her bow of mithril string.

It felt like ages alone in the darkness when Grimbeorn awoke to find himself face to face and surrounded by the grey-clad folk.  "H-h-how long have I been gone?" he asks weakly.  "Who are you? Where am I?" he asks, coming around.  "Ruithel? Is she alright?!  My friends?!"

"Forgive me," Arbogast says to Damrod as he gathers his wits.  "It is not the custom of my folk to readily give our true names to strangers.  But you offer aid in a dark hour, and as I would not despise an offered hand, so I ought not begrudge so slight a request.  I am Arbogast, son of Arbodag.  With me are Grimbeorn, son of Beorn, Rorin of Erebor and mister Bandobras Bracegirdle, of a far-off land." 

Standing, he walks over to the orcs' stockade to view the pitiful ones within.  "Alas for these poor wretches," he says.  Then, reminded all of a sudden, he looks about for Essylt, but does not find her.  She fled, he supposes, at the arrival of the Ringwraith. 

He wonders whether this new company would tarry to burn the bodies, that they might not nourish the carrion crows of Mount Gundabad.  But they are no kin of his, and, having failed to defend them as they lived, he feels no call to serve them in death. 

Instead, he turns his gaze to where Damrod speaks softly to Ruthiel.  "Where dwells this healer you speak of?"

The cloaked figure that tended to the Beorning nodded, 'All are well, save your Dwarf friend. He has been touched worse by the Black Breath to which you had succumbed. He will need more aid than we can provide here." He then sniffed at the wound on Grimbeorn's abdomen that he had received from the wolf. "There is corruption in this wound. I can smell it. We must get you to the healer, too, for I fear if this goes longer you will not see another moon, my friend."

Damrod smiled at the mention of Bandy. "Yes, we are familiar with these small folk and their land called the Shire. Surprising, aren't they? By the looks of them, they seem soft and at times simple, but to know some of them they are tough as old roots." The Dúnadan then offered a hand, "Well met Arbogast, son of Arbodag. Your valour, too, is great to have stood up against a Nazgûl. The healer we seek is Amfossa - she resides at the confluence of the Langwell and Greylin rivers. She is a friend to us and opens her doors to our folk at need when we come to this land, though that is not oft. The Vale of Gundabad is not inviting for man or beast. It is two days south of here. Will you let us help you bear the Dwarf there?"

Arbogast could see that Bandy was now looking on their conversation, too, and that the healer who tended Grimbeorn was concerned about his old wound. Standing near, but not making herself a part of the counsel beyond what she had, the Lady Ruithel stood awaiting. Around them all, the other grey-cloaked figures stood at watch.

"Aye, my thanks to you, friend, but see then to Rorin given his condition.  I will manage as I have these last few days.  I will not be a burden to those whose help is needed elsewhere."

The Beorning attempts to rise but finds the task beyond his strength for the moment.  "I'll be along shortly... must catch my breath."

Arbogast fumbles in a pouch, his hand emerging with a piece of dried root that he absently begins to chew.  As the weariness slowly begins to leave his limbs, he nods at Damrod.  "At such times as these, refusing any assistance is foolhardy.  My friends and I will follow where you lead."  

Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on May 21, 2017, 05:03 PMThe Beorning​ attempts to ride...

Do we still have horses?  I sort of assumed we were on foot, from previous descriptions of Grimbeorn carrying Bandy and such. 

No, the horses were left at the Roadwarden's tower on the Old Dwarf Road about a month+ ago. Gwaihir told you guys he would tend them and see them back south for you, as he could.

This will be the end of this year and chapter. We will be having a Fellowship Phase after this thread. I will be giving narrative to Amfossa's home and then beyond.

I want you all to think hard about your characters' ordeals. Arbogast has a family now and is facing death far away from them; Grimbeorn is finding he is at death's door often and has a people that he will one day rule; Bandy is becoming darker by the day; and finally Rorin...well, Steve is not here too much anymore.

My point in all of this is I want you to think about the generational rules in the core book. You have been playing these characters now for two years in real time and six years have passed in game time - if anyone wants, or has, an idea for another PC that they would like to try, it is cool with me.

I am not saying anyone HAS to - I am just saying that this has been a pretty dark chapter for the PC's, so maybe one would like to go into retirement?

Your calls.

I will continue the story narrative tomorrow. Tonight I need to sleep.

Quote from: tomcat on May 21, 2017, 06:47 PM No, the horses were left at the Roadwarden's tower on the Old Dwarf Road about a month+ ago. Gwaihir told you guys he would tend them and see them back south for you, as he could.

Well, that's the last we'll see of them.  I hope they were tasty. 

  Typo on my part, sorry.  Meant "rise".

Well that makes better sense, Matt! 

As for the horses, Gwaihir had told the companions that he would send word to those that he knew within the forest to see them safely home. So, your horses will be there when you get home.

The real problem is some of your fellow Men might have taken them for themselves - nothing says I am available and is more foreboding then a riderless horse returning home! 

  i'm thinking that Bandy needs to probably have a frw more shadows points after this last or deal. I know we havent really been using them much, but I think they are subtle but important aspect to the game. Especially when so many fellowship undertakings are related to lowering the shadow score.

I was hoping we were going to make it to Beorns land this year as I was thinking Bandy would like the area and set up a tobacco farm. The land being like the shire, the westerly Inn is here and he could be a guard of the carrock with his bow skills.

I have also been toying with the idea of setting Bandy aside for awhile but I'm not sure how I feel about it. The little guy is traumatized a bit at present but the dice are telling a story for him. I think he is an important aspect of the group dynamic and a good foil so I'm on the fence.

  The land of the Beornings would be the ideal place for Bandy as it and it's people are more like those of the Shire than anywhere else East of the mountains.

As for Grimbeorn, he needs to deal with his own demons of inadequacy and such, falling to the nazgul, the warg, etc. etc. etc.  He's having a hard time living up to being the son of Beorn; he's likely to become more fey and more grim.

Yup, I too thought that Beorning country was perfect for the Extreme East Farthing.

The group waited until the break of morning before they set out. Grimbeorn appreciated the much needed rest and quickly fell into a deep and natural slumber.

The sun rose over the unseen forest to the east and quickly grew into a bright and perfect morning. The lands around them were quiet save for birds in the sky and small rodents that scurried from one hole to another. The Company moved at a slow pace, burdened as they were with the unconscious form of Rorin, but Damrod sent forward scouts from his group to spy the land before them.

They stuck to the low-lands, weaving between the hills instead of cresting them due to the potential of being seen, but the Rangers worried about the dark birds that hung above on the winds. There was no knowing if a creature in this land merely served its own interests or had a darker purpose.

Yet with all their caution, the companions were unhindered in their southerly route. It was as if the departure of the Ringwraith had cowed those foul creatures that remained into hiding.

The rocky terrain with it coarse vegetation began to fall away behind them revealing long, lush green grasslands and prairies. The river confluence was a flood plain and thus rich soil was prevalent across the area and made for lush growth. Their pace picked up, no longer weaving back and forth, and the lands of the Western Vale quickly approached.

Four days out of the hills, the companions could see the sweeping line of the Langwell River, shining like a gem in a sea of green. Damrod pointed east to where the river joined with another coming out of the north, "That is our destination. Amfossa resides where the two rivers join. We are almost there and soon your Dwarven friend will be restored, if it is not too late."

The Dúnadan's optimism and then concern for Rorin caused everyone to pick up their speed for one more push. They would be to their destination by dusk. Seeing the green land before him and the familiar mountains on his right caused Grimbeorn to think of his home. He was not far now, and they could be there before summer's end, as long as Rorin recovered in short order. The Beorning decided he would wait until they made it to his healer's home and that Rorin would be okay before he brought up his desire to make for the Carrock.

The Company could winter there and he would be able to tell his father of all he had seen and done.

---

For those that want to and who have the skill, you may provide a Healing test to Rorin TN 14, for these four days of travel - one for each day. Each success does nothing more than contain the TN 14 in his Corruption tests previously rolled. If you decide to make that test and fail, I will reevaluate the rolls I made previously and change that day's corruption roll to a TN 18. This could have the effect of potentially adding more Shadow to Rorin's score.