CHAPTER 5 - The Beast of Mirkwood

[tomcat]

Chapter commencement is September 2952 T.A. and will recount the events through 2955.

It seemed lonely to the two men as they rode their horses out of the gates of Beorn's house. They had been pleasantly surprised to find the animals within the stables of the Beorning settlement. It turned out that Gwaihir had aided the animals after all, and saw them to the one place where he knew they would be taken care of.

Now, as they rode, the absence of their other companions was palpable and so they walked in silence.

The remainder of their time spent in Beorn's house had been mostly alone. The master had also left for a time and Grimbeorn was ordered to mind the responsibilities in his absence. The elder Beorning had gone north with a handful of his most doughty folk, as the news that his son had returned with was most disturbing and Beorn wanted more information.

It was a known fact that Viglund took thralls - one of the very reasons that Beorn had chilly relations with his northern cousins - but now that they sold these thralls to Angmar! That was unacceptable.

And so Grimbeorn and Arbogast waited within the House of Beorn until September's end and the return of the sire. Beorn called his son to council, and Arbogast was pleased for he too was included - this was a woodman issues as much that of the Beornings. Much debate was made and arguments back and forth were given, but no consensus was found. Outright war on the Viglundings was demanded, but fear of loss was weighed against that idea - not loss in battle, for the Beornings were firm in their belief that victory would be assured, but the loss of blood. The loss of needed hands to tend the settlement.

Beorn tabled the matter after three days of debate and excused all from his hall save Arbogast and his son. The large man sat long and quiet, his hand holding his bearded chin. At last he spoke, "The hour is nigh that blood must be spilled and Viglund removed from power in the East Vale. Long have I endured his actions - attacking our northern borders, stealing our animals and crops, and...people. The bear within me would lash out and destroy him, but the man must be more cautious. It is no longer the days of old where only I sat within this house and tended my hives. People have come and they have made me their lord and master - and I cannot offer up their lives so easily."

"You know they would do as you ask, father," interjected Grimbeorn, but he was quickly cut off by the mere raising of Beorn's hand.

"I know their hearts son, and I am glad you can read them, too, but it is different now. It will be the same for you, when you take this seat. To bleed for your own actions is one thing...to ask others to offer theirs is another..." Beorn returned to his pensive, quiet self.

"Let me lead this expedition, father," said Grimbeorn when the silence grew long. "I will do what must be done to avenge those that Viglund has wronged. Remember, father, I have seen it. I looked upon those faces of children stolen from their homes. I saw the orc pens where the thralls lay dead from firght after the terrible Shadow's approach. Let me do this!"

Beorn smiled. He nodded.

"I would give you this task, my son, as it would honor my house and increase your renown even more in our people's eyes, but the time is not ready. You have a duty that must first be completed and that is diplomacy. You have spent these last years building bridges - connections that I have not been able to do - with the Wood-men of the south; the Dwarves of Erebor; Elves of Mirkwood; and even with the small folk. Great are these accomplishments and such alliances will be the strength of your rule, when the time has come." The elder Beorning looked to Arbogast and smiled, "Together you two must continue in your efforts of binding the scattered tribes of Wood-men together and keep firm the relations with the other folk of the Vale, all the way to the East. You have even made relations with one of Gondor - and mighty are those folk.

"So, you will leave our home once more and go south to Rhosgobel. Too, I would extend you this news I did learn from the Eagles, whil'st we journeyed north over the last few weeks..."

And Beorn began to recount all that the far-seeing and knowledgeable Eagles of the Misty Mountains had told him - news gathered from all across the great vale of Anduin, Mirkwood and further still.

The treachery of the River-maiden is now revealed. The Black Tarn has darkened and is choked with weeds. Woodmen disappear and boats vanish as the
corrupted Rivermaiden attacks those who stray too close to the water's edge.

The Werewolf of Mirkwood has appeared in the Bower and attacked the Elves as they made merry. Thranduil has ordered his hunters to find the creature and put an end to permanently.

It is whispered that the Shadow of Dol Guldur has contacted the men of the Tyrant's Hill. None know what those folk will do, but all worry about Mogdred's intentions. They have long lived within close proximity of the horror of that evil place and many believe their hearts to be corrupt.

Fengel, King of Rohan, has died after a long but unpopular rule. He was deemed a greedy and unwise king. His only son, Thengel, left him to serve Gondor, but is said to be returning now from his self-imposed exile.

Turgon, the twenty-fourth Ruling Steward, has died in Gondor. He is succeeded by his son Echtelion II.

"Lastly," finished the elder Beorning, "word was spoken to me of a woman - mayhaps the one you seek - seen wandering along the banks of the Anduin far to the south, past the confluence of the river Gladden. The Eagles say this woman has been at work dispatching orcs, as she finds them wandering across the vale."

Though unsure, Grimbeorn and Arbogast think that sounds like Esgalwen's doings. But so far south? Why?

And now they trotted alone from the halls of Beorn. Arbogast knew that Grimbeorn had much to do - he must continue to grow an alliance with the peoples of the vale, but all the Wood-man could do was think about his daughters and wife and the dangers they faced, so far away.

[Eclecticon]

The two Men ride a route that is clearly familiar to Grimbeorn, and Arbogast lets the larger man take the lead.  They pass cottars harvesting their fields and cowherds moving their kine toward winter pastures.  The changing of the seasons tugs at the Fire-watcher.  At home, he knows, they will be gathering the swine from the forest and bringing in nuts to roast over the winter.  They would also be fishing, he recalls with a scowl, had the Maiden of the Tarn not declared herself against our folk. 

Grimbeorn rides silently, the weight of his father's cares upon his shoulders.  Arbogast does not break the silence, but turns his own concerns over and about as they go on their way. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn recounts the words his father gave them from the great eagles.  So many unfamiliar names but also words of warning and sorrow such as for his friend's land.  Still hidden there were things of hope and renewal, signs of Esgalwen are of special import.  Yet thoughts of her are a sorrow to his heart as she had been missing for so long and it pained him.

Looking on to Arbogast he saw him lost in thought, no doubt recalling his family.  Instead of being down with his present, Grimbeorn recalled making merry with the Woodman's folk and the happy times holding laughing baby girl.  "Shall we go by your village before Rhosgobel?"

[Eclecticon]

While the thought lifts Arbogast's spirits somewhat, he knows it to be impractical.  "We would pass through Rhosgobel on the way in any case.  Though if time permits, I will certainly take the time to go home.  In any case, I would take counsel with Radaghast regarding the Maiden of the Tarn, should he be available."

[tomcat]

While Esgalwen and Udo lay under the stars wondering what they would find the next day with the Elftower, Grimbeorn and Arbogast were closing the distance to Rhosgobel.

The end of summer days were bright and warm, but the angle of the shadows told them that the seasons were soon to change. Winter would lay over the forest soon and Arbogast worried of his family's needs. The Tarn had become a close knit community of people taking care of their neighbors, but Lindwine would still need help.

The two travelers found their southbound route to be unhindered as they rode across the fields of golden grass that stretched out for miles. To the west, the ribbon of the Anduin was clearly visible, along with the lofty peaks of the Misty Mountains, and they used them as a travel landmark. To the east, the shadow of Mirkwood was ever on the horizon.

Grimbeorn had ticked off the other landmarks as they passed - the Old Ford and the Forest Road was first. They gave wide berth to the Pale Rider Caves and the Barrows of the Northmen, instead riding along the river shoreline until they came to Stonyford where they took refuge for the night. Beyond that was the Long Barrows and Stonehallow - both of which they avoided.

So this day, they crossed the golden prairie which would soon give in to a flat, stony area, near the path that leads to Rhosgobel. The region was called the Field of Heroes and though the Woodmen rarely fought pitched battles, preferring to hide within the forest and ambush their enemies, but when they must face enemies openly they did so here. Four times in living memory a force of Woodmen had met forces of the Shadow in battle here, and three times they had been victorious.

The ground began to pitch upward and they soon topped a small mound. Before them loomed the eaves of Mirkwood and Arbogast was sure he could see smoke rising from the fires that burned within the hearths of Rhosgobel. But there was something more that caught there eye within the yellow-gold of the field. A brown-robed man sat quietly by himself and appeared to be staring off towards the west.

[Eclecticon]

The growing familiarity of the surrounding country lifts Arbogast's spirits as the two Men ride south.  Finally, after long months away from hearth and home, the sight of a face familiar since childhood is almost too much for him.  "Radaghast," he calls.  "Hail, brown wizard of the Wood!"

[tomcat]

"Eh?" the old man looked as if he was broken from a trance. His grey-streaked bearded face turned towards the new arrivals and then recognition broke out with a smile. "Arbogast, son of Arbodag and Grimbeorn, son of Beorn! Welcome home, my friends, welcome home!"

He hoisted himself up with his staff and paced the few feet between himself and where the riders stopped. A look of concern came and he said, "But where are the others? Young Master Bracegirdle and Rorin of Erebor? And where is the fair Esgalwen? Please...do not tell me they have left the bounds of this world."

"No," was the gruff reply from the Beorning. "We thought maybe you would know - at least of Esgalwen, for she left our company... some four weeks past?" The question was to no one in particular, just a spoken guess. "As for Masters Bandy and Rorin - they have taken time to themselves for a while. Much have we seen, Master Radagast, and suffered, and the peaceful heart of our Hobbit friend could no longer take such pains. He has made a small home for himself within the reaches of my father's lands. Our Dwarf companion has returned to the Old Dwarf Road - there to help his kin in its restoration."

"The Old Dwarf Road? Did he? Good! That is very good! Many and good will be the results from such labors. As for Bandobras, that too is good. He will need time to mend. As for the Lady Esgalwen, all I can say of her is I guess the tidings be true. Many have been the messages of beast and bird and they have spoken of a maiden fair, though she be girded with steel, passing to the south. The words I have been told is this woman was on a mission most urgent apparently, for she passed in great haste. Do you know what that could be about?"

Both of the travelers shook their heads.

"Mayhaps it is not Esgalwen at all of which they speak." The Brown wizard looked confused for a moment. Then he suddenly began to wave his arm above his head and to the sky he called, "Hear! Here!"

From above, a large black raven fluttered down to roost upon the top of the wizards staff. Its feathers shone in the daylight and colors separated upon its seeming oily sheen. Radagast looked up at it, "Tell me again what you have seen."

The raven began to sing in strange croaks but to Arbogast's amazement, he understood the words.

"A woman, fair and with auburn hair,
strays 'long the banks of the Anduin.
Twice hunted she was by men on horse,
and twice it was almost her undoing.
Small now the companion she keeps,
afoot upon the fields.
And to the tower, it seems their goal,
but someone follows close at heel.
The old Elftower, once called Elfenguard,
t'is a place surrounded by shadow.
Yet the lady fair, and her halfling friend
are determined here to go."

Radagast took his eyes from the bird and looked west - the direction he had been staring when the men first came upon him. "Why to the tower?" he asked no one in particular.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"I've heard word spoken of this tower and they are all ill.  The description of the woman does sound like Esgalwen but odd is the tiny companion's description... Bandy?  A countryman of his?" Grimbeorn idly posits.

[tomcat]

"T'is a mystery to be sure," answered the wizard.

Radagast looked to them and apparently was ready to change the topic, "Long have you been gone. What have you been about? The last time I saw you, you were riding north with another Dwarf, named Bofri."

[Eclecticon]

"And Bofri's fortunes are somewhat improved, thanks to our efforts, for together we recovered the staff of the Roadwarden, long lost to the folk of the Mountain, and slew many a spider of the deep woods, though by no means all that stood against us..." 

Arbogast dismounts to sit by Radaghast, for the tale of their deeds since last they spoke is rather long in the telling.  The wizard nods along, keeping his own mind as he listens.  Finally, when the Fire-watcher is done, he says "and for all this, we have been gone but half a year.  Still, it is time enough for much to take place.  Have you any news of my home, and of my kinfolk?" 

He leaves un-said and of my wife and children?

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn dismounted with his friend and joined the Wizard on the small rise.  He was his usual stony, silent self, only offering grunts of agreement, minor corrections if warranted, or if the Wizard questioned him directly.  Mostly he was lost in thought about home and the date of their friend from Gondor.  When Arbogast finished his recounting, the Beorning sat studying Radagast for a response.

[tomcat]

Radagast listened intently as Arbogast and Grimbeorn recounted their tale, nodding occasionally at the things of which he was aware.

"Gandalf you say?" when the story came to the Elven-realm. "He passed through my lands some weeks past with a young man out of the north. Said they were heading south and that he had news for Saruman, the master of our Order, and that then they would be going to Rohan."

The rest of Arbogast's story was made in silence from the wizard. Once it was told, Radagast spoke again, "Trouble indeed will Viglund and his folk continue to be, and vile is their ways." He poked a finger to Grimbeorn, "Soon will this be your task to attend to, lest the northern vales fall under the heel of another tyrant."

The Brown Wizard continued a bit more on the topic of Angmar and the Spectre of Gundabad saying that trouble was growing across the lands of Middle-earth, and thus did he come to the news of Rhosgobel and the Black Tarn.

"T'is a good thing that you have returned, Arbogast. The Dusky River has grown dangerous and so the Black Tarn even more. Amaleoda has come to me to make counsel and she tells of the threat of River Maidens. I believe Duskwater has come under a terrible spell of the Shadow and turns upon the very folk she has long protected.

"I know you knew of this on your outset from Rhosgobel earlier this year, but it has become worse. Stranger still - Elves have been seen this far south in greater numbers, though I know not why. I have sent word to Thranduil, but silence has been the response. The folk of Woodmen-town speak most of these sightings, and say that the Elves do not make greetings. More is said that they disappear quickly into the wood when seen."

Radagast continued about the forest - that Sunstead was no longer sending emissaries to the western wood; and Tyrant's Hill had become eerily silent, as well; that the darkness of Dol Guldur has pervaded the Narrows, south of the Tarn; and finally...

"The Beast of Mirkwood is sounding again."

"What? What beast?" asked Arbogast.

"The great Beast...the Werewolf of Mirkwood. It has also been seen prowling. Tell me, friends, that you are here to stay a while. I believe counsel needs made with Amaleoda and the issues of the Tarn be settled. I fear all the good that had come with the death of Smaug is now flitting away."

[Eclecticon]

"Many tales have I heard of the Werewolf," says Arbogast with a suppressed shudder.  "It is hardly a foe I had sought to test myself against, no matter that the days seem to call for such things." 

He shrugs.  "That said, I am your man, and I will defend my folk as long as I have strength in my hands to do so.  It was our intention in any case to go to Rhosgobel, that my brother-in-arms might bear the tidings of his father to the elders there, for greatly does he desire a closer alliance between our two peoples - as do Grimbeorn and I.  Perhaps seeing off this Beast will show the clan leaders the wisdom of such a proposal.  But even if they do not see the sense in it,"  he concludes, "who better is there in all of Wilderland than we to stand before it?" 

After a moment, he adds "I would ask you, though, whether your feathered messengers could find Esgalwen and call upon her to abandon her errand to the Elftower for a time, for I fear our need of her sword-arm will be great indeed." 

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast recognises that Grimbeorn, laconic as he is, is the key to growing the bond between his people and the Beornings.  I'm nominating him as Arbogast's Fellowship Focus (). 

USA!Matt, can you please, please have him put some armour on, so I don't wind up drowning in Shadow points because he keeps getting himself stabbed?  At present, his encumberance is 3 (Bear Claw) + 2 (cap) +1 (shield) = 6 (travelling gear isn't counted except for journey purposes - TOR p 158).  There's plenty of room to put a leather shirt (enc. 4) on and still use his Giant Strength.  If you dropped the cap, he could stick a leather corselet (enc. 8) on, giving him an even chance of turning a sword blow even without using his Skin Coat.  Look, there's even a neat-o-keen cultural Reward that he could take on p 117! 

[tomcat]

"Eh? Feathered...? Yes, of course!"

Arbogast and Grimbeorn could not help but notice the old man was very distracted with the many things that burdened his mind. The raven still sat atop his staff, as if it awaited the old man's permission to leave. Instead Radagast gave it quick orders - words that formed in Arbogast's mind just like the old man in the Carrock had taught him.

Return to us, he said, your aid is needed by friend and family alike. Leave not your task untended, but for now make haste to Rhosgobel.

The other hand that did not hold the staff reached into the brown wizard's pouch tied upon his belt and came forth with a small mound of cracked corn. He held it aloft and the raven took a few beak fulls - crunching the hard kernels up. It then took to the air and flew west.

"There...she will know our need soon enough. It appears she will be bringing aid with her - one who is young, like the new stream that winds within its unknown course, and another who is as old as the mountains from which it runs. Come, you must be hungry and they will be the rest of this day and the better part of tomorrow in travel."

The two men looked at the bird disappear in the western sky and wondered at the wizard's cryptic words.