Elendor
A companion on the journey
A horse and rider are the latest oddities to join the motley crew crossing the Misties.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: High Pass, Eastern Trail
Game Date: September 3047
IC Time: Day
Weather: Rain
Description: High Pass, Eastern Trail
The trail climbs its way upwards into the mountains, offering few flat spots where the climbing would be easier or where weary travellers could stop for a rest. The air is getting colder, and a fine mist has begun sending tendrils down towards you, pulling you deeper into the mountains clutches. Before long you will be able to see very little through the mist, but for now the way is still clear, and a narrow separate trail can be seen snaking off at right angles from the pass and heading north along the mountainside. You also notice a small overhang.
Lighting plays across the Misty Mountains a magnificient playground for a thunderstorm. Followed soon by a rumbling thunder, the earth shakes beneath your feet. The midday autumn air is refreshing and brisk.
Obvious exits:
Overhang leads to Misty Mountains, Overhang.
Trail leads to Misty Mountains, Mountain Trail.
West leads to High Pass, Eastern Descent.
East leads to Misty Mountains, Rocky Split.
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Thu Aug 13 10:57:00 2009
IC weather is: Wind: calm - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Waning crescent
IC time is: Midday
IC date is: Sunday, Day 4 of September in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
[Nob(#16122)] It has been raining (and snowing) steadily since the day after the avalanche, and the party trudges along in silence, heads bent beneath dripping hoods - or in a few cases, up and alert and watching the surrounding rocks.
Currently, there is a particularly evil mixture of rain and snow coming down, that freezes to the rocks as it falls. The ponies slip and slither their slow way along the trail, and several dwarves have been assigned to walk by each wagon in case of trouble. Gidon, swathed in his over-large cloak, has been even more silent than normal.
[Oengus(#6174)] The thunder bangs across the mountains, rain and snow falling from overhead, and in the distance is the lonely sound of a horse's hooves pounding on the ground. It gets closer and closer, steadily, to the slow moving caravan. Eventually, those that would notice, spot the rider. The horse is not moving fast, as the rain makes movement slightly difficult and slow. The rider, a bearded fellow wearing furs, metal, and leather, approaches slowly.
Brev, plodding stolidly along through the muck, does not seem to notice the lad's unnatural quiet. His own attention is for the mountains surrounding them, on which he keeps a wary, watchful eye as though things unseen were lurking behind the rain-curtain. Perhaps they are.
For a brief, sudden moment, the sky lightens and the slick, sharp-edged rocks ahead are thrown into stark relief. Then the grey murk returns, and a moment later comes the rumble of thunder. The ponies halt in their tracks, shivering and neighing - all, that is, except one, which throws up its head and tries to bolt. The dwarves curse and try to haul the beast back, their attention occupied for the moment.
Brev looks up at the sky, scowling, and then stands still to listen. Thus it is that he hears the sound of hoofs, muffled by the rain. Warily he turns and moves to the rear of the little caravan, spear ready in his hands. Another Elf?
[Nob(#16122)] Rocks clatter down the side of the hill, kicked loose by the frantic horse, who plunges and pulls and is finally subdued by at least four dwarves. One throws a cloth over its eyes, and it stands still at last, quivering.
The boy with Brev stops as he does, looking over his shoulder as the man moves away, and then going after. Still silent, Gidon doesn't ask where they are going or why, but stops a little ways from the man, clutching his own spear in his good hand, though of late, he has used it only as a walking stick.
[Oengus(#6174)] The horse and rider are following the caravan, or so it appears. One person can move much quicker than a whole group, and so, perhaps he has caught up. As the distance fades, it is clear that it is no elf, but instead a man, with a heavy beard at that. The man pulls upon on the reigns of his horse, holding up a hand in greeting. Without waiting for a reply, he kicks the flanks of the mount, spurring it forward and toward the travelers.
Brev squints through the rain, his spear-tip pointed warily at the man and, more specifically, at the horse, which he watches with ill-concealed unease. Travelling with the Dwarves, he has become used to ponies, but this beast is larger, stronger - different entirely. Perhaps unpleasant memories are surfacing ...
At the stranger's unspoken greeting, he calls out in clear, though sing-song, Common, "Who are you and what do you want?" Likely the words are intended to alert the Dwarves as much as anything else.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon has very little experience with horses at all - one, once, who was slow and gentle - and he regards this one with clear nervousness, edging over to the side as the rider comes right towards them. His hand clenches on his spear. Behind the boy, several of the dwarves look up and around at Brev's voice. Ahhh, now this is something better than playing nursemaid to foolish ponies, the expressions on their faces seem to say, as they grip axes and hammers, and three of them turn to stride towards the newcomer. Who is, well, still coming...
[Oengus(#6174)] The rider advances slightly, "I am called Oengus!" he calls out in response, "I want only to share your path for a while. I am a lowly servant of the White Wizard, Saruman, friend and ally of all Free Peoples of Middle Earth." There is a pause in his speech, "I would join you if you so permit."
Brev stiffens at something the stranger says, and a muscle starts jumping in his cheek. Aloud he calls out, the corners of his mouth curling, "Seems awfully fond of fancy words. Or is that just his envoy?" He watches the man a moment, then shrugs. "I've no quarrel with that name. Heard, it, even. And Kiern knows we've gathered up enough other rag-tags. But you'll have to ask /them/." He jerks his head toward the approaching Dwarves.
Speech done, he glances back to Gidon, one brow lifting slightly. "All right?" he murmurs to the lad, very softly.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's eyes slide towards Brev, then back to the horse. He nods, but takes a step backwards, just in case.
The dwarves come up beside the Dunlending man, and stare measuringly at the horseman. "Well," says one, twirling his axe, "I've no quarrel with a /man/," he stresses the word, "Who can keep a horse across this pass in this storm." He looks inquiringly at his companions, who, one after the other, nod. "Aye." "Surely." The first turns back to the newcomer, "Dwanor, I am," he says. "An extra hand is welcome, and an extra axe for taking off orcish heads! But you'll have to be after getting your own grub, we've little enough as it is."
[Oengus(#6174)] The man rides forward, then slowly dismounts as he nears. "Worry not, Master Dwanor," he says, "I have not axe, but a trusty blade the is pleased to sever the heads of goblins large and small." The man smiles slightly, "I have trail rations enough to last me," he says, looking over at the man. "A Dunlending, I see, we share blood, kinsmen." He reaches out to Brev, intending to shake his hand. "Well met all, and I give thanks for allowing me to travel along side you."
Brev seems oddly unexcited by the prospect of meeting another of his own kind wariness still clouds his amber eyes. Funny, that. "Doubt we share that much blood," he tosses back. "Unless my father strayed a few more times than I got told about. Hmm, come to think of it ..." He lets the words trail off, then shrugs. "But aye, well met." He extends a hand-
At that point comes a shout from the driver of the wagon hitched to the pony that had tried to bolt. "Wheel's working loose again. Must've hit summat." Brev sighs. "I'd best go and take a look," he murmurs to Gidon. "Want to see if you can find out where this one's bound? I've heard the name of Saruman before." His face, made deceptively youthful by the fact it bears no more than a couple of days beard growth at present, is thoughtful. "Safer than an Elf, I'd say. Don't take any chances, though, eh?" He nods politely to the newcomer, Oengus, then claps Gidon on the shoulder, gives him a lopsided grin and moves away.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hesitates, then nods again. But he looks at the traveler with less than enthusiasm, though he does take half the step forward that he had previously taken away. For the moment, however, he is spared needing to talk - for the dwarves are doing that for him.
"Ah, well. Swords," says the first, dubiously. "Reckon they're all right... but for /real/ work, now, you want an axe." He pats his own, proudly.
"Haven't seen too many," the second says, disappointment clear in his voice. "Not this trip. Been quiet as a mouse's whiskers."
The third only shakes his head, his beard wobbling lugubriously, before asking, "Where are you bound then? These," he waves a hand towards Gidon, "Say they go to the Beornings. We're heading to see our kin, of course, off north of Dale-land."
[Oengus(#6174)] "I have reached my destination," Oengus says, "I met other Dunlendings, weeks ago, who spoke of your foray into the mountains." He pauses, "I wished to aid where I could, if needed." The man shrugs, "These are dangerous parts, and you are right, I am sure you could use another sword at your side." Oengus pats his full sized horse on the neck as he walks, "I hope that is satisfactory, Saruman the White, wishes that we aid the people of Middle Earth where possible. It is my duty to do so."
[Nob(#16122)] "Well, if you say so," the dwarf replies. "Balan's my name, and this is my brother, Falan." The named dwarf bows, then turns to go back to the caravan, to help with the wheel perhaps, or with holding the ponies, who still seem inclined to dance about nervously, rolling their eyes at the lightning, and starting with each distant crack of thunder.
Gidon himself jumps once as a clump of snow falls from a higher point, landing with a soft whump in front of him in perfect timing with one thundering boom. He slips a little on the icy path, but catches himself. "You met..." he pauses for a minute, dragging a name from memory, "...Carac, an' them?"
[Oengus(#6174)] "I do not remember the name Carac," Oengus says, "But they were Dunlendings, I have a mind to know their look." He puts on a short smile, "They were heading back to Dunland," he says, "And were staying over in Bree." He shrugs, "I am surprised to find Dunlendings so far away from home, in truth, but they were fairly tight lipped about why they can reason to come into the mountains to begin with."
[Nob(#16122)] The boy nods again, then moves the tip of his spear to push his hood a little back. Being much too large for him, it has slid down over his face. "They .." he begins, then darts a glance at the distant Brev. "... Me an' Brev is going t'B'orning."
[Oengus(#6174)] The man nods, "Yes, as the Dwarves said," Oengus agrees. "Why is it you are going there?" he asks. He reaches into a saddlebag on the horse, pulling a pouch of dried beef. He pulls out a strip and hands it to Gidon. "Dried venison," he says simply in offering.
[Nob(#16122)] There is a moment of hesitation, then Gidon tucks the spear under his left arm and reaches out for the meat. He devours it before replying, "Lookin' for m'da." His voice is flat.
Behind him, the two remaining dwarves seem to decide that the boy will be alright, and they too return to their duties, though one of them stays at the rear of the caravan, where he will not be far away, should there be need.
[Oengus(#6174)] "An interesting place to find him," Oengus starts, "Do you not think?" He grins, "I hope you find him," he says offhandedly, "Have you seen any trouble?" he asks of the boy, regarding the caravan, "Besides the weather," he holds out a hand at the freezing rain to accentuate his point.
[Nob(#16122)] The meat is gone, and Gidon takes his spear again, holding it butt-end down: a walking stick with a sharp point. "Yes," he says to the question about his father, his voice quiet and colorless. Water drips off his hood. "Not much. Some of them goblins, only they never come near. Kilt each other, some did, an' th'others run off." There is a pause. "Th'snow fell on us," the boy adds.
[Oengus(#6174)] "I see," Oengus says, "This is a dangerous time to travel the mountains," he starts, "The beginning of winter." He looks around, "The goblins, they attacked each other you say?" The man shrugs again after his question, "Not surprising I guess. They are worse than animals."
[Nob(#16122)] "Do they do that much?" Gidon asks a little hesitantly. "I saw 'em, they just ... kilt each other. Right there. When th'dorves come, there weren't none left." As to the danger of traveling at this time of year, oddly enough, the boy's face flushes a little, though it may be hard to tell in the shadow of his hood.
[Oengus(#6174)] Oengus looks off into the distance of the mountains, keeping a tight hold on the reigns of his tall black stallion. "I cannot say, I have fought them, several times, but I have no seen them turn on each other. Who knows what foul things they do?"
[Nob(#16122)] "I ain't never seen 'em b'fore," Gidon admits. "Only this time. Aren't none round Bree." He shifts his stance a little. "Be there many where you come from? Are you from Dunland, like Brev?"
[Oengus(#6174)] "They avoid Isengard," Oengus replies, "Saruman, my Master, protects those that live under his care." He smiles, "My mother was Dunlending, but I live in Isengard." He takes a deep breath, "Goblins do at times harass Dunland, however, attempting to raid there for food."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods, his voice and what can be of his face, serious. "That's what Brev says. They be needing men t'fight." He snaps his mouth shut abruptly on the last word and darts another glance towards the front of the caravan where Brev has gone. But Oengus's words have brought some other curiosity or confusion to mind, and he looks back at the man - full-grown, strong, well-able - and asks, doubtfully, "You 'prenticed to him? This... Sar'man?"
[Oengus(#6174)] There is a moment of consideration for the boy's words. In the end, Oengus slowly nods, "Yes, I suppose you could say that. The White Wizards works for the greater good of Middle Earth, and I, in that doctrine, aid where I can." He takes a deep breath, "And, this is why I am here, to help the Free Peoples of Middle Earth," he waves toward the dwarves and caravan in general, "When they might need it. Which, in this deadly place, is quite possible."
[Nob(#16122)] "Yer awful old," Gidon blurts out, then flushes again. "I mean - for 'prenticing." In the next breath, possibly in hope of distracting the man, asks, "Why d'you say that - free people? What's free?"
[Oengus(#6174)] Oengus' face breaks into a large grin, "Yes, I am old for 'apprenticing'. But Saruman is much older than I, so I suppose it makes sense." He pauses for a short moment before continuing, "Free People are those that fight for just causes. Men, dwarves, and elves. Even halflings."
[Nob(#16122)] "Oh." Gidon considers this for a few minutes, then lets it go. People, he has found, have the strangest ideas. "Hobbits, y'mean? I ain't never seen them fight, they's too busy eating. Though, Da said, there was one or two was Breeguards, on a time."
[Oengus(#6174)] "Yes, hobbits," he says, "They have quite an appetite." Oengus continues, "They do not need to fight, I suppose it was a figure of speech. They are innocent, perhaps that is what I should say." He says nothing else on the topic.
[Nob(#16122)] So is the lad who faces him, though he has learned a lot in a short while. What Oengus has to say is nothing he has ever heard before, and he has nothing to say in return. Just then there is a shout from the east, and the wagons begin to roll again, and Gidon with a quick shy lift of his spear in farewell, hurries towards the front.
The trail climbs its way upwards into the mountains, offering few flat spots where the climbing would be easier or where weary travellers could stop for a rest. The air is getting colder, and a fine mist has begun sending tendrils down towards you, pulling you deeper into the mountains clutches. Before long you will be able to see very little through the mist, but for now the way is still clear, and a narrow separate trail can be seen snaking off at right angles from the pass and heading north along the mountainside. You also notice a small overhang.
Lighting plays across the Misty Mountains a magnificient playground for a thunderstorm. Followed soon by a rumbling thunder, the earth shakes beneath your feet. The midday autumn air is refreshing and brisk.
Obvious exits:
Overhang leads to Misty Mountains, Overhang.
Trail leads to Misty Mountains, Mountain Trail.
West leads to High Pass, Eastern Descent.
East leads to Misty Mountains, Rocky Split.
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Thu Aug 13 10:57:00 2009
IC weather is: Wind: calm - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Waning crescent
IC time is: Midday
IC date is: Sunday, Day 4 of September in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
[Nob(#16122)] It has been raining (and snowing) steadily since the day after the avalanche, and the party trudges along in silence, heads bent beneath dripping hoods - or in a few cases, up and alert and watching the surrounding rocks.
Currently, there is a particularly evil mixture of rain and snow coming down, that freezes to the rocks as it falls. The ponies slip and slither their slow way along the trail, and several dwarves have been assigned to walk by each wagon in case of trouble. Gidon, swathed in his over-large cloak, has been even more silent than normal.
[Oengus(#6174)] The thunder bangs across the mountains, rain and snow falling from overhead, and in the distance is the lonely sound of a horse's hooves pounding on the ground. It gets closer and closer, steadily, to the slow moving caravan. Eventually, those that would notice, spot the rider. The horse is not moving fast, as the rain makes movement slightly difficult and slow. The rider, a bearded fellow wearing furs, metal, and leather, approaches slowly.
Brev, plodding stolidly along through the muck, does not seem to notice the lad's unnatural quiet. His own attention is for the mountains surrounding them, on which he keeps a wary, watchful eye as though things unseen were lurking behind the rain-curtain. Perhaps they are.
For a brief, sudden moment, the sky lightens and the slick, sharp-edged rocks ahead are thrown into stark relief. Then the grey murk returns, and a moment later comes the rumble of thunder. The ponies halt in their tracks, shivering and neighing - all, that is, except one, which throws up its head and tries to bolt. The dwarves curse and try to haul the beast back, their attention occupied for the moment.
Brev looks up at the sky, scowling, and then stands still to listen. Thus it is that he hears the sound of hoofs, muffled by the rain. Warily he turns and moves to the rear of the little caravan, spear ready in his hands. Another Elf?
[Nob(#16122)] Rocks clatter down the side of the hill, kicked loose by the frantic horse, who plunges and pulls and is finally subdued by at least four dwarves. One throws a cloth over its eyes, and it stands still at last, quivering.
The boy with Brev stops as he does, looking over his shoulder as the man moves away, and then going after. Still silent, Gidon doesn't ask where they are going or why, but stops a little ways from the man, clutching his own spear in his good hand, though of late, he has used it only as a walking stick.
[Oengus(#6174)] The horse and rider are following the caravan, or so it appears. One person can move much quicker than a whole group, and so, perhaps he has caught up. As the distance fades, it is clear that it is no elf, but instead a man, with a heavy beard at that. The man pulls upon on the reigns of his horse, holding up a hand in greeting. Without waiting for a reply, he kicks the flanks of the mount, spurring it forward and toward the travelers.
Brev squints through the rain, his spear-tip pointed warily at the man and, more specifically, at the horse, which he watches with ill-concealed unease. Travelling with the Dwarves, he has become used to ponies, but this beast is larger, stronger - different entirely. Perhaps unpleasant memories are surfacing ...
At the stranger's unspoken greeting, he calls out in clear, though sing-song, Common, "Who are you and what do you want?" Likely the words are intended to alert the Dwarves as much as anything else.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon has very little experience with horses at all - one, once, who was slow and gentle - and he regards this one with clear nervousness, edging over to the side as the rider comes right towards them. His hand clenches on his spear. Behind the boy, several of the dwarves look up and around at Brev's voice. Ahhh, now this is something better than playing nursemaid to foolish ponies, the expressions on their faces seem to say, as they grip axes and hammers, and three of them turn to stride towards the newcomer. Who is, well, still coming...
[Oengus(#6174)] The rider advances slightly, "I am called Oengus!" he calls out in response, "I want only to share your path for a while. I am a lowly servant of the White Wizard, Saruman, friend and ally of all Free Peoples of Middle Earth." There is a pause in his speech, "I would join you if you so permit."
Brev stiffens at something the stranger says, and a muscle starts jumping in his cheek. Aloud he calls out, the corners of his mouth curling, "Seems awfully fond of fancy words. Or is that just his envoy?" He watches the man a moment, then shrugs. "I've no quarrel with that name. Heard, it, even. And Kiern knows we've gathered up enough other rag-tags. But you'll have to ask /them/." He jerks his head toward the approaching Dwarves.
Speech done, he glances back to Gidon, one brow lifting slightly. "All right?" he murmurs to the lad, very softly.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's eyes slide towards Brev, then back to the horse. He nods, but takes a step backwards, just in case.
The dwarves come up beside the Dunlending man, and stare measuringly at the horseman. "Well," says one, twirling his axe, "I've no quarrel with a /man/," he stresses the word, "Who can keep a horse across this pass in this storm." He looks inquiringly at his companions, who, one after the other, nod. "Aye." "Surely." The first turns back to the newcomer, "Dwanor, I am," he says. "An extra hand is welcome, and an extra axe for taking off orcish heads! But you'll have to be after getting your own grub, we've little enough as it is."
[Oengus(#6174)] The man rides forward, then slowly dismounts as he nears. "Worry not, Master Dwanor," he says, "I have not axe, but a trusty blade the is pleased to sever the heads of goblins large and small." The man smiles slightly, "I have trail rations enough to last me," he says, looking over at the man. "A Dunlending, I see, we share blood, kinsmen." He reaches out to Brev, intending to shake his hand. "Well met all, and I give thanks for allowing me to travel along side you."
Brev seems oddly unexcited by the prospect of meeting another of his own kind wariness still clouds his amber eyes. Funny, that. "Doubt we share that much blood," he tosses back. "Unless my father strayed a few more times than I got told about. Hmm, come to think of it ..." He lets the words trail off, then shrugs. "But aye, well met." He extends a hand-
At that point comes a shout from the driver of the wagon hitched to the pony that had tried to bolt. "Wheel's working loose again. Must've hit summat." Brev sighs. "I'd best go and take a look," he murmurs to Gidon. "Want to see if you can find out where this one's bound? I've heard the name of Saruman before." His face, made deceptively youthful by the fact it bears no more than a couple of days beard growth at present, is thoughtful. "Safer than an Elf, I'd say. Don't take any chances, though, eh?" He nods politely to the newcomer, Oengus, then claps Gidon on the shoulder, gives him a lopsided grin and moves away.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hesitates, then nods again. But he looks at the traveler with less than enthusiasm, though he does take half the step forward that he had previously taken away. For the moment, however, he is spared needing to talk - for the dwarves are doing that for him.
"Ah, well. Swords," says the first, dubiously. "Reckon they're all right... but for /real/ work, now, you want an axe." He pats his own, proudly.
"Haven't seen too many," the second says, disappointment clear in his voice. "Not this trip. Been quiet as a mouse's whiskers."
The third only shakes his head, his beard wobbling lugubriously, before asking, "Where are you bound then? These," he waves a hand towards Gidon, "Say they go to the Beornings. We're heading to see our kin, of course, off north of Dale-land."
[Oengus(#6174)] "I have reached my destination," Oengus says, "I met other Dunlendings, weeks ago, who spoke of your foray into the mountains." He pauses, "I wished to aid where I could, if needed." The man shrugs, "These are dangerous parts, and you are right, I am sure you could use another sword at your side." Oengus pats his full sized horse on the neck as he walks, "I hope that is satisfactory, Saruman the White, wishes that we aid the people of Middle Earth where possible. It is my duty to do so."
[Nob(#16122)] "Well, if you say so," the dwarf replies. "Balan's my name, and this is my brother, Falan." The named dwarf bows, then turns to go back to the caravan, to help with the wheel perhaps, or with holding the ponies, who still seem inclined to dance about nervously, rolling their eyes at the lightning, and starting with each distant crack of thunder.
Gidon himself jumps once as a clump of snow falls from a higher point, landing with a soft whump in front of him in perfect timing with one thundering boom. He slips a little on the icy path, but catches himself. "You met..." he pauses for a minute, dragging a name from memory, "...Carac, an' them?"
[Oengus(#6174)] "I do not remember the name Carac," Oengus says, "But they were Dunlendings, I have a mind to know their look." He puts on a short smile, "They were heading back to Dunland," he says, "And were staying over in Bree." He shrugs, "I am surprised to find Dunlendings so far away from home, in truth, but they were fairly tight lipped about why they can reason to come into the mountains to begin with."
[Nob(#16122)] The boy nods again, then moves the tip of his spear to push his hood a little back. Being much too large for him, it has slid down over his face. "They .." he begins, then darts a glance at the distant Brev. "... Me an' Brev is going t'B'orning."
[Oengus(#6174)] The man nods, "Yes, as the Dwarves said," Oengus agrees. "Why is it you are going there?" he asks. He reaches into a saddlebag on the horse, pulling a pouch of dried beef. He pulls out a strip and hands it to Gidon. "Dried venison," he says simply in offering.
[Nob(#16122)] There is a moment of hesitation, then Gidon tucks the spear under his left arm and reaches out for the meat. He devours it before replying, "Lookin' for m'da." His voice is flat.
Behind him, the two remaining dwarves seem to decide that the boy will be alright, and they too return to their duties, though one of them stays at the rear of the caravan, where he will not be far away, should there be need.
[Oengus(#6174)] "An interesting place to find him," Oengus starts, "Do you not think?" He grins, "I hope you find him," he says offhandedly, "Have you seen any trouble?" he asks of the boy, regarding the caravan, "Besides the weather," he holds out a hand at the freezing rain to accentuate his point.
[Nob(#16122)] The meat is gone, and Gidon takes his spear again, holding it butt-end down: a walking stick with a sharp point. "Yes," he says to the question about his father, his voice quiet and colorless. Water drips off his hood. "Not much. Some of them goblins, only they never come near. Kilt each other, some did, an' th'others run off." There is a pause. "Th'snow fell on us," the boy adds.
[Oengus(#6174)] "I see," Oengus says, "This is a dangerous time to travel the mountains," he starts, "The beginning of winter." He looks around, "The goblins, they attacked each other you say?" The man shrugs again after his question, "Not surprising I guess. They are worse than animals."
[Nob(#16122)] "Do they do that much?" Gidon asks a little hesitantly. "I saw 'em, they just ... kilt each other. Right there. When th'dorves come, there weren't none left." As to the danger of traveling at this time of year, oddly enough, the boy's face flushes a little, though it may be hard to tell in the shadow of his hood.
[Oengus(#6174)] Oengus looks off into the distance of the mountains, keeping a tight hold on the reigns of his tall black stallion. "I cannot say, I have fought them, several times, but I have no seen them turn on each other. Who knows what foul things they do?"
[Nob(#16122)] "I ain't never seen 'em b'fore," Gidon admits. "Only this time. Aren't none round Bree." He shifts his stance a little. "Be there many where you come from? Are you from Dunland, like Brev?"
[Oengus(#6174)] "They avoid Isengard," Oengus replies, "Saruman, my Master, protects those that live under his care." He smiles, "My mother was Dunlending, but I live in Isengard." He takes a deep breath, "Goblins do at times harass Dunland, however, attempting to raid there for food."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods, his voice and what can be of his face, serious. "That's what Brev says. They be needing men t'fight." He snaps his mouth shut abruptly on the last word and darts another glance towards the front of the caravan where Brev has gone. But Oengus's words have brought some other curiosity or confusion to mind, and he looks back at the man - full-grown, strong, well-able - and asks, doubtfully, "You 'prenticed to him? This... Sar'man?"
[Oengus(#6174)] There is a moment of consideration for the boy's words. In the end, Oengus slowly nods, "Yes, I suppose you could say that. The White Wizards works for the greater good of Middle Earth, and I, in that doctrine, aid where I can." He takes a deep breath, "And, this is why I am here, to help the Free Peoples of Middle Earth," he waves toward the dwarves and caravan in general, "When they might need it. Which, in this deadly place, is quite possible."
[Nob(#16122)] "Yer awful old," Gidon blurts out, then flushes again. "I mean - for 'prenticing." In the next breath, possibly in hope of distracting the man, asks, "Why d'you say that - free people? What's free?"
[Oengus(#6174)] Oengus' face breaks into a large grin, "Yes, I am old for 'apprenticing'. But Saruman is much older than I, so I suppose it makes sense." He pauses for a short moment before continuing, "Free People are those that fight for just causes. Men, dwarves, and elves. Even halflings."
[Nob(#16122)] "Oh." Gidon considers this for a few minutes, then lets it go. People, he has found, have the strangest ideas. "Hobbits, y'mean? I ain't never seen them fight, they's too busy eating. Though, Da said, there was one or two was Breeguards, on a time."
[Oengus(#6174)] "Yes, hobbits," he says, "They have quite an appetite." Oengus continues, "They do not need to fight, I suppose it was a figure of speech. They are innocent, perhaps that is what I should say." He says nothing else on the topic.
[Nob(#16122)] So is the lad who faces him, though he has learned a lot in a short while. What Oengus has to say is nothing he has ever heard before, and he has nothing to say in return. Just then there is a shout from the east, and the wagons begin to roll again, and Gidon with a quick shy lift of his spear in farewell, hurries towards the front.
Players: Gidon, Oengus, Brev
Located in: Dunlending | Breefolk
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