Searcher from Bree

Northern Crossroads

Here the old North road, the so-called Greenway, runs along its overgrown track across a steadily rising land. In the north the concentric rings of the Downs are visible, away against the horizon, as a hazy grey ridge west lie open and barren lands, once the heartlands of lost Arthedain. Scattered copses of foliage dot the landscape there.

Away east the land falls gently away into what can only be the Midgewater Marshes in the darkness the chirping insects of the swamp can be heard as a faint chorus, when the wind is in the east. To the south lights twinkle upon Bree-hill, as the distant village prepares for sleep.

Contents:

Rhifaroth

Obvious exits:

Northwest leads to Hillside.

Southeast leads to Outside North Gate.

North leads to Road through the North Downs.

East leads to Barren Country: Near the Bree-lands.

South leads to North Downs Road.

Rhifaroth drops Elfaron.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Early morning light pales the eastern sky and blurs the sharpness of the stars that peek out from between scattered, broken cloud cover. The land here is open, windswept and grassy though dotted with a few trees or low scrub. In the dim light Bree and Breehill are visible to the south and southeast, the downs to the north in the distance.

In this open landscape a horse can be seen, saddled and led by a tall man. Both horse and man are bathed golden in the dawn light. The man moves slowly just to the east of the road in a vaguely northernly direction, mostly looking to the earth and stopping to squat down occationally. His dark head, uncowled out here, turns slowly to survey the landscape often, wary.

[Frarin] A silhouetted figure rises from the east, its hunched shoulders and hooded head outlined by the growing light of dawn. It is a short figure, yet mounted astride a horse - nay, a pony - and comes at an easy pace with its back towards the distant town, but as yet has not reached the Greenway. The pony moves at a brisk walk, though not a trot, and even then its rider leans forward as if in pain.

But perhaps it is more than pain that bids the figure hunch so far forward. For a glinting blue war hammer is grasped in the free right hand and, though covered by the cowl, the rider\'s gaze seemed directed at the ground. A long brown beard lays across the pony\'s neck.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The grey clad man who was stiffly squatting down to look at the ground rises, turning his head to look around once more. That is when his horse\'s pricked ears and turning head towards the east draws Rhifaroth\'s attention to look that way himself.

Seeing a small, stout figure approaching at a leisurely pace and mounted upon a pony, the man frowns. That one seems entirely alone in this open landscape.

Watching the other, the man keeps his place for a moment and then turns his horse around from the north to now face the approaching Dwarf. Walking carefully, he begins to lead the grey stallion towards the other figure. The man tries to hide his limp.

The sun climbs over the Hithlagir to the East, bringing its warm rays to drench the lands of ancient Arthedain with precious light.

[Frarin] The stout grey pony gives a snort and the short, hooded rider looks up. Swiftly the beast is reigned to a halt as the dwarf beholds the distant figure approaching from the north. The hammer at his side is pulled up, readied for action, but the rider, though wary, does not turn aside. Still hunched forward, the dwarf gently prods the pony\'s flanks and urges it forward. As of yet, it seems, the distant man is indiscernible, for the pony and rider approach still cautious and leery, straining to make out the man\'s features in the growing light of the dawn.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Slow moving due to his bad leg and trying to hide his limp, the tall man finally stops. Still some fair distance off from the pony mounted Dwarf, the man goes around to the right side of his own horse, and with some effort, manages to mount. The grey turns about, throwing it\'s head up and eager to go but is reined in. Slinging his overlong bow off to the side to be more comfortable while riding, the man turns his horse about and urges the animal to pick up a ground eating trot.

It would seem that the stranger is decidedly heading directly for the unknown dwarf.

Bodin comes across country from the west.

Bodin has arrived.

[Frarin] The dwarf pulls to a slow stop again as the distant figure circles his own steed, then mounts the horse with apparent effort. The pony\'s head is pulled to the north with the practised ease of an experienced rider, then the dwarf\'s cowl seems to move back and forth, as if inspecting the landscape, especially to the north.

Then the pony is pulled round to the west again to face the trotting man and horse. A moment\'s longer hesitation, then the smaller beast is prodded forward again. This time the pony trots and the dwarf hunches forward slightly with the jolting gait. Then, when the man is still some distance off but the light of the coming day is enough to reveal some few features, a rumbling voice comes forth from the hood.

\"Hail, Rider!\" calls the dwarf warily. \"Who be you and what is your business in this country?\"

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

There is, at first, no reply made by the tall man as he rides closer. He has drawn up the hood of his own grey cloak to better conceal his own features from what may be a stranger. Only, the voice that hails the man seems familiar, even at some distance.

Coming a bit closer, the long legged grey stallion\'s strides ground eating and efficient for long travel, the man shifts his weight and takes up the slack upon the reins very slightly, slowing the fine stallion. Elfaron tosses his head and snorts, jangling his bit.

\"Be that Frarin, master silversmith and friend?\" calls the man\'s voice in turn, now that he is closer.

[Bodin(#32265)] Gradually, the sound of someone walking up the road from the east can be heard. Someone approaches. As he nears, it becomes obvious that it\'s a dwarf. The sound of a stick scraping across the road comes along with him. He taps the pole in an arc before him, grumbling or just speaking quietly to himself as he goes. He seems to be walking right toward Frarin and Rhifaroth.

[Frarin] The horse covers the ground quicker than the short-legged pony. Soon the distance between the two riders is closed and the man\'s voice drifts across the open land, familiar to the hooded dwarf. He straightens in his saddle, his reply delayed a second longer to watch the man. \"Nay,\" says the dwarf, \"it is Frarin, /senior/ silversmith only. But friend by all accounts.\" There is a hint of humour in the rugged voice, then the grey hood is drawn back and lo, it is indeed Frarin son of Forli.

His blue hammer is lowered and his trot slowed to a more comfortable walk. \"And be that Rhifaroth, whom I call Stranger?\" For the moment, the second figure of a dwarf on foot remains unseen behind Frarin, himself facing away from the east whence he came.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The mounted man inclines his head to Frarin as that one lowers his own hood and speaks. A hand likewise rises to draw back his own hood but grey eyes flicker past the smith and pony to another figure approaching, another Dwarf it would appear, but one on foot, \"Know you who comes behind you, friend?\"

Longbow still awkwardly sticking out to the side at a forward angle (it is not designed for riding) the man turns his eager horse around and leans forward to pat the grey\'s neck to sooth Elfaron. Rhifaroth looks towards the approaching stranger.

[Bodin(#32265)] As though catching the fringe of a sound, Bodin stops moving. He tilts his head to one side, not looking in any particular direction.

[Frarin] Frarin likewise nods to the man, but at Rhifaroth\'s prompt question, the mounted dwarf raises his brows. Not attempting to twist in his saddle, the silver merchant brings his pony around to face back to the east. Without the excitement of the lean horse, the little grey pony contentedly snorts and chews at its bit.

\"Nay, I know him not,\" Frarin grumbles, squinting into the rising sun. \"I departed ere the break of day and knew not that any followed. But I have not come direct from town.\" With a grunt, the dwarf raises himself in his stirrups, taking the reins in his right hand and shielding his eyes with his left. \"It is a hobbit, I think. I would say a dwarf, but all of my kin who returned to Bree with me are yet bedridden.\"

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Whoever the approaching figure might be, they are short and don\'t look very threatening. The tall man throws his good right leg over the front of his saddle\'s pommel and hops lightly enough down from the tall Southern bred horse. Elfaron stands quietly now, lowering his head to crop at grass since the pony seems so inclined to be relaxed.

Rhifaroth winces as his bad leg strikes the ground but keeps a tattooed hand upon the saddle. Coming around the horse\'s head he lets the reins slide through his fingers as he looks towards the strangely clad figure, pale grey eyes squinting against the eastern light even as his left hand shades them, \"Whoever it is, it seems ... odd. They have their face covered - and are bearded. Not a hobbit, I think.\"

Bodin taps the ground a few times with the branch before going back into motion. He takes his time, but seems to be covering the distance to the observers quickly. At one point, perhaps 2000 yards away, he stops walking and inclines his head a bit as a light breeze blows through the area. Then, he reaches under his cloak and seems to be searching for something.

[Frarin] Still squinting into the dawn light, Frarin watches a moment longer. Then he follows suit and, audibly exhaling with a light grimace of pain, he leans forward and dismounts his own small steed. The pony tosses its head and shoves an expectant nose towards its master. \"Off, Barim,\" mutters the dwarf, pulling the reins over the pony\'s ears and tugging gently as he starts in the direction of the approaching figure. Frarin walks with no support now, but noticeably, he still refuses to straighten to his full height.

When the figure from the east halts, so also does Frarin slow his pace, then stop it entirely. He nods. \"One of my own, it is,\" he rumbles softly, \"though I do not know him.\" And raising his voice, he calls, \"Hail, cousin!\"

Elfaron raises his head, shakes it so that his bit jangles loudly again, then blows through his nostrels, scenting the wind here while his ears are pricked forward towards the new arrival - who is still some distance off, yet.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Frarin\'s dismounting and then moving back towards the east to go and greet the new comer, this the tall man watches quietly. Rhifaroth\'s own gaze slips from the two to the land about them to keep a watch for other, less agreeable visitors.

Seeing nothing else to hold is interest, he takes up the slack on the stallion\'s reins and begins to walk along behind Frarin and his pony, following. He limps, favoring his left, weak leg but continues to try and not make it too obvious.

Bodin\'s head turns in Frarin\'s direction, as though he were inspecting him carefully. He holds up an arm in greeting for a couple of moments. Slowly, he gets himself back into gear, tapping the ground in front of him with the stick, though less frequently now. \"Hello!\" he calls, once he comes a bit closer. \"Hello to you,\" he says, coming up close to Frarin. He tilts and inclines his head in a few different directions, as though unable to locate Frarin. \"You gave me a start, yes. With all the trouble around here, I didn\'t know who you might be--I thought I heard a voice some distance off, you know.\"

[Frarin] Frarin beholds the new arrival for a moment as Bodin works his way diligently towards them. Dark eyes flicker over the green cloth about the other dwarf\'s eyes and the stick he uses to test the ground before him. \"Indeed you did, cousin,\" rumbles the silver merchant, speaking softly so as to allow Bodin to better place him. \"We did not know you either, and distant silhouettes on the horizon are ever a worry.\"

Again Frarin allows his gaze to rove over Bodin\'s face, but he seems satisfied that the other dwarf\'s blindness is not a recent acquisition. \"Why do you come into the open this morn, cousin?\" Frarin asks. \"There is indeed trouble about. I seek for signs of it myself. But have you come from Bree?\"

[Bodin(#32265)] After a moment, he returns to searching beneath his cloak and produces a little pipe, which seems to be packed already. \"I came from my tent, cousin. If everybody in this world would get up early and breathe the morning air, have a smoke and walk--well, we\'d all get along a bit better, I\'d say!\" He tilts his head and smiles, \"Don\'t recognize your voice. I am Bodin Thunderstone, armor--\" he clears his throat and grimaces. \"Bodin Thunderstone. I was... formerly an armorsmith. And who may you and your company be, friend?

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The tall man with the large horse has stopped a short distance back from Frarin and the other Dwarf, listening. The Dunadan allows Elfaron to draw the reins back through his fingers and lower his head to graze, cropping more grass contentedly, equine teeth making grinding noises even as those teeth occationally clip the steel bit with the stallion\'s canine teeth.

His own attention more for the land around them, Rhifaroth looks to the north and east, sharp eyes looking most carefully for something. Absently his left hand readjusts the long bow to lay more comfortably upon his back before his glance returns to Bodin and his unusual affirmity. The man makes no comment, allowing Frarin to introduce him as the smith feels is most appropriate to one of his kin.

[Frarin] Despite the other\'s blindness, Frarin does not forego the courtesy of a bow. Granted, the silver merchant\'s bow is not so deep as it might otherwise be, but that seems a function of some injury beneath his clothing. \"Frarin son of Forli,\" the merchant greets solemnly. \"Silver merchant and smith of Erebor.\"

He glances to Rhifaroth, but the man makes no reply to Bodin. Frowning, Frarin looks back to the former armoursmith and, pausing a moment, says, \"And my friend is a man from the south, an ally in the recent troubles that have plagued this land.\" No further introduction is given on Rhifaroth\'s behalf.

\"Well met, Bodin Thunderstone,\" Frarin continues, even as his dark gaze looks uneasily to the north. \"A smoke and walk would be most welcome indeed, but I fear my mind is not easy with the prospect at the moment. Forgive me, cousin, but I am most anxious to be gone from here. I seek news of the kin that I left behind in the wild when I was returned, wounded, to Bree, and I fear greatly that what news I will find will be ill indeed.\"

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

So introduced but not wishing to be rude, Rhifaroth also inclines his head to the newly met stranger. His voice is a baritone, spoken low and softly but with a strange, foriegn lilt to his words, \"Well met, Bodin Thunderstone.\"

There then is a moment of silence before he adds, \"You may be wise, just now, to stay in town for a while. Until things are a little safer.\"

Bodin leans on the branch, not yet having lit his pipe. He bows to Frarin, and smiles again, \"Well met, indeed, friend. And, this is a man? I see, I thought this was another dwarf. Well, it is a pleasure to meet you both. I\'m afraid I have no news of them. I was not able to be there, you see. A private matter. Anyhow, it is best not to think the worst until you actually know what has happened. You don\'t want to suffer the same feelings twice, should worse come to worst!\" He pats Frarin kindly on a shoulder. He turns in Rhifaroth\'s direction, then, and, smiling, says, \"Wise, perhaps. But most men can see danger coming when it\'s right upon them--I cannot. I have other ways of sensing it, and usually a little sooner. Forgive me, I\'m not sure we have properly met, friend..?\"

[Frarin] Dark shadows form under Frarin\'s eyes and around his mouth, and are no effect of the rising sun, for it is a grim look that passes over his face. But he says nothing and the look is not visible to the blinded dwarf anyhow. Looping the reins over his pony\'s head again, Frarin gives a muffled grunt as he painfully hauls himself back onto Barim\'s back. The pony snorts with expectation.

\"Perhaps you are right, cousin. But that is my nature, and too often my experience of late.\" His words are solemn, but not unkind. Sad and grim, perhaps. He gives Rhifaroth another glance, but unsure of the man\'s mind concerning the use of his proper name, leaves any further introduction up the Dunedan. \"I go north,\" he says, to both Bodin and Rhifaroth. \"To...find what I will.\"

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Indeed, the man is not quick to give response to the direct query. And he is also eager to continue his own hunting even as he draws up his horse\'s head and strokes the stallion\'s neck, \"Most folk around here just call me \'Southerner\'. My name is not important.\"

To Frarin however, the man inclines his head in parting, \"Be careful, friend. You are not yet mended. The others are mounted as well, and you are alone.\" For his own part, the man moves around and takes a good hold of his saddle and the horse\'s mane so that he can raise his right leg to put it into the stirrup. It is difficult for him, his left leg so weak, but he manages to drag himself up in to the saddle and resetttle his bow.

Taking up the reins to keep Elfaron from stepping foreward too quickly, the man wheels the horse around to face the east, \"I\'ve been north a little earlier in the morn and saw nothing. You\'ve been east... I shall then try between those two.\"

With a glance back to Bodin, then man begins to ease his horse out, allowing the animal\'s steel shod hooves to pick up once more that ground eating trot.

[Frarin] \"I have met them mounted before, and unawares,\" Frarin responds with a nod to Rhifaroth. \"But I shall go with caution, and bid you do the same.\" To Bodin, he adds, \"Fare thee well, Bodin Thunderstone!\" Then, without another word, Frarin nods farewell to Bodin and digs the heels of his boots into Barim\'s sides. The pony gives another snort, then sets off at a steady trot. The silver merchant against hunches painfully forward in his saddle, but the dark gaze is ever vigilant, the blue war hammer still grasped ready at his side. And before long, pony and rider have descended beyond a low hill and are lost from sight.