Session 22: Muddy Trails, An Enemy

 

Nearly fifty miles away from Bree, a young hobbit opened his door after dealing with another evening of driving back wolves and heaved a deep sigh. Hoplite "Hoppy" Glendoodle closed his little hobbit door, set his sword aside and plopped down in his chair, exhausted. He was just beginning to drift asleep when his alert eyes noticed something in his home was different; on the table next to his favorite chair was an envelope. He sat up, quite surprised to see an envelope in his home. Who had put it there? How had they gotten into his home? Were they still in his home? After quickly moving through his hobbit-hole home and discovering no one was inside and nothing else had been touched, he returned to his favorite chair, looked at the envelope again and sighed. He had a feeling he knew who had put it there.

He opened the letter, read it once, saw the signature and confirmed what he’d already known - the letter had been from Gandalf, asking him to come to Bree and to go to the Prancing Pony to seek out some of his companions that should be there for the Winter Yule. Hoplite "Hoppy" Glendoodle heaved another sigh - traveling in this rain would not be a pleasant experience, but it was never a good idea to ignore a summons from Gandalf - why there was a story that Cedivar Greenhand had ignored a summons from Gandalf and had been turned into a toad for a week!

When Hoplite Glendoodle had packed his belongings and began to leave Buckland, he was stopped by many who asked where he was going - when he explained he’d gotten a summons from Gandalf, they all nodding knowingly and delayed him no more, each whispering what had happened to poor ol’ Cedivar Greenhand!

  The three days of travel were dreadful. By the time Hoplite Glendoodle had reached Bree, he was quite certain that he could not possibly be more soaked and muddy had he tried. The winter rains seem to latch to him, pouring into his skin and bones, the chill rain cutting deep like razors beneath the flesh. Wholly unfamiliar with Bree, Hoplite Glendoodle asked for directions from the tall humans as to how he might find the Prancing Pony, and each one said - as if it were obvious - “Look for the tavern with the sign that says Prancing Pony with a big horse on the sign hanging above the door.” The humans here, perhaps it was the chill winter winds and rains, were quite unpleasant, Hoplite Glendoodle discovered. After an hour of wandering around (sometimes feeling as if he were going in circles), Hoplite Glendoodle found the Prancing Pony and entered - quickly spotting what he’d been told to look for - an odd collection of fellows - a Bardling, a Ranger of the North, a Dwarf, and another human.

As Hoplite Glendoodle approached, he heard the Dwarf saying, as he held a parchment, “I just got a summons from Balin, Son of Fundin, Envoy of Dáin Ironfoot, the King Under the Mountain. I’ve been called back to Blue Mountain because the goblins have grown more bold in their attacks and they’ve asked me to lead an attack against them if my duties here are done. While,” Frerin sighed, “I do not consider my duties here done, I do have a duty to my people and to Dáin Ironfoot.”

“We understand,” Lodin nodded. “Your presence will be missed, but duty is binding. I'll seek you out if I make my way to the Blue Mountains. If you learn more of Dirindem or Thorroum, send word.”

Maethordan nodded in agreement, "I wish you well in all your endeavors, may your axe slay all the threaten you kin."

Frerin huffed and puffed, trying not to look emotional. "It's been a short time I've been with the lot of you, but I've seen honor in all of you," his eyes drifted to Welton. "Yes, I've even seen that redemption is possible." He rubbed his eyes, "Blasted Innkeeper needs to clean the dust up in this place! People tracking in mud and dirt! Something's gotten into my eyes! Well," he said firmly taking Maethordan's hand, "I am going to head up to my room and begin packing, now that I know the Great East Road should be safer now." He looked at Welton and nodded to him.

As Frerin walked by, Hoplite Glendoodle cleared his throat, “Hello, my name is Hoplite Glendoodle. I’ve just come from Buckland to Bree on the behest of Gandalf to meet with all of you. It would seem he’s asked me to adventure with all of you.”

  “You are not alone,” a soft, almost magical voice said. Standing behind the hobbit was a tall, slender elf, who bowed his head slightly. “I too was sent to meet with all of you. Gandalf speaks with Elrond now in Rivendell about a dark blade that has been uncovered and has asked me to come and meet you all as well. My name is Arthanar, son of Balrannor, and a scholar.”

Lodin gestured to the hobbit and elf to join them at the table. Lodin was more interested in the hobbit than the elf; Hobbits were a curiosity to Lodin only having heard stories of Bilbo. Lodin looked closely to see what he could discern of his new companion.

Lodin saw a small figure that looked like he had spent more time on the water than in a garden; a wet thumb, if you will. His clothes looked quick to dry or water resistant, though now under cloak or lined with fur against the cold rain. His skin was similar in all ways: leathery, water resistant, and furry.

  Hoppy took a seat, "Ah, yes. Gandalf asked me to come. Since I don't want to be a toad, I did. Though with this weather, toadishness may have been a boon. The name is Hoppy. The name is another temptation for the Wizard at Toading me, I fear." He unfolded the letter from Gandalf, "But his letter also mentioned Wolves, or larger beasts known as Wargs. We have seen an increase in activity around Buckland. I don't know if there is a connection to what Gandalf has you looking into, but he thinks I should look, too."

  "Greetings Hoppy,” Lodin said, sitting back, “forgive my curiosity. I am Lodin. If you will indulge me, what are your abilities? We have some enemies who threaten to overrun this area and fighting is highly likely. What is your weapon of choice, and how sturdy is your armor, if you have some?"

Hoppy immediately had his ideas about the Big Folk confirmed - they like to compare swords and not much else. He cleared his throat, "Uh... I mean Gandalf asked me to join with you. If you doubt his choice, I suggest you take it up with him. Though you might just find a letter in your room from him instead. My weapon of choice is a fishing pole. My armor is waterproof but not rainproof - go figure."

Lodin listened to Hoppy speak, but his eyes moved over the Hobbit and noticed an old-but-cared-for sword. His shield was clean but gouged by wolf claws. Most of his leather clothing was actually well-made armor.

  Lodin nodded, "I don't mean offense sir. I would just rather know what to expect before we go into battle. The question goes to you as well Arthanar, what is your weapon of choice, or are we to cover you? I must admit I know little of scholars and their skills.” After a pause, he noted, “Our last scholar was a bit.... unpredictable."

"Should I need to resort to battle, my weapon of choice," he replied, as he slid a short bow from his shoulder. The make was fine elven craftsmanship with Elven language etched into the wood, "is this short bow." He nodded to Lodin, "I have heard already a great many fantastic tales of you, as well as your companion, Dolly." He smiled. "Gandalf speaks quite highly of Dolly." He chuckled, "As one who has spent time with nature, I look forward to meeting Dolly as well. Gandalf spoke very little of Fay, said that when she learned the truth of what had happened to her family she was greatly shaken by the Shadow over her. I hope she recovers in Bree and finds peace."

Lodin nodded appreciatively, "Hoppy, it looks like you're the only one of us without a bow. What do you think, Maethordan; I think the bow we found would be suitable for him?"

  "Should suit him fine," Maethordan nodded in agreement as he kneeled down to one knee and offered his hand to Hoplite Glendoodle and said, "I am Maethordan and I am pleased to meet you; I trust Gandalf so I am sure he would summoned to this meeting if he thought you capable.”

  "Pleased to meet you, too," said Hoppy, and takes the hand.  "I'll get the drinks, then we can get to business."  He looked back after taking a few steps, "Though I assume we will be waiting for the roads to clear a bit?"

  When Hoppy returned to the table Lodin continued, "I'm assuming Gandalf didn't explain much in his letter. We've been tracking the movements of some bandits, orcs, and an agent of the enemy called the Cargûl. We foiled a plot to poison the well, confiscated weapons heading to Felyadûr, and are delayed in investigating the murder of a Ranger near Archet. As soon as spring comes we will return to that investigation and maybe look into the warg trouble the people of Combe have."

  Hoppy nodded vigorously as Lodin listed off the party's accomplishments and tasks. "I see where I fit into the last one and am happy to help with the rest." He took a drink and continued, "We in the Shire hear stories about evil-deeds.  We often think they are just tales to scare young ones.  As a Bucklander, I should know better - being closer to the outside world. I will do what I can to help."

  Hoppy continued to bring refreshments and food for his future companions.  But something seemed off with the Hobbit dishes he ordered. Some Bree-ishness seemed to have afflicted the Bucklander dishes they serve here. Since his tablemates seemed most interested in his weapons, he offered them a chance to handle his sword. That should keep them distracted.

  The occasional sound of knife on plate followed by humming rose in tempo and volume.  When Lodin and Maethordan looked up to see what Hoppy had been up to, they saw both a mess and a masterpiece.  The Hobbit had scraped the fried dough from one dish and piled it on to a plate next to some apple cores and orange peels.  Another plate contained what was once fried, but now is covered in a glaze. It also seemed Hoppy set up some camping equipment on a chair to create a make-shift cooking station for the sauces.

  The food was fine, though overly sweet and salty.  Possibly not an improvement on what the house serves; especially when coupled with the glares the staff was giving the table.

 

January 3, 2966…

 

Though Yule had officially come to an end, a dreary rain fell from the grey clouds that seemed to linger above, banishing the light of the sun from the morning. The people of Bree moved about, doing their normal activities, used to the rain. Several merchants, who were crafters and laborers, set up tents for protection against the rain and sold food or merchandise to those who had the silver for it.

  Homes in Bree were made using wood harvested from the Chetwood and stone mined from the quarry. The Bree folk also collected stones from old ruins, at least enough to keep the town in repair.

  The humans of Bree built on the lower hillside, mostly above the road, their windows looking west, while the few hobbits of Bree, dwelled in the higher slopes of the hill instead, the part of Bree referred to as the ‘new town’, despite it being probably more than a thousand years old. But these differences aside, the people of Bree got along in a remarkably peaceable way, and are surprisingly welcoming to visitors, being ever curious about tales from beyond the gates of their town.

  It was in the morning, in the Prancing Pony as Lodin, Maethordan, Welton, Arthanar, and Hoppy sat around eating breakfast, with Teelia providing them food and drink from the kitchen, they could hear the rumblings of several of the patrons.

“It’s not safe, I tell you,” one man of Bree was saying as he bit into his mutton.

  “I agree,” another man of Bree said, sipping at his soup. “Something’s in Chetwood now. I went out there to collect some lumber and felt like I was being watched. There’ s an uneasy silence in Chetwood. Not even nature sounds!”

 

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Fellowship Points:

3 (1 per player) + 2 (Gandalf) = 5

 

Fellowship Bonus: Gandalf

You can spend a Fellowship point to roll an additional d20 after a saving throw (but before the outcome is determined) and choose which of the d20s is used.

 

Yule Activities –

 

 

Who will take which item from the above?