More Salt!

Shepherding Village

This is the home of a small, proud, and independent people who live primarily by herding sheep in the open lands south of the Great East Road. Once driven from this region by troll depredations, they have returned and appear to be prospering, perhaps because they can also profit by trade on the Great East Road.

Or rather.... we should say it /was/ the home of these people. The many sturdy houses and smaller huts clustered on a hill here have mostly been burned. Some are yet standing, more are nothing more than charred timbers. Once, they were safely ensconced behind a deep ditch and wall. The ditch is filled with the ashy ghosts of thorn bushes ... and the gate hangs crookedly, black as charcoal.

A long, low, smoke-stained building, sprawling along the hillside below the caravanserai, appears to the south. Its thatched roof has miraculously escaped burning - though there are black patches across it. Thick lead-paned windows are dark. There is no one here.

Contents:

Nurenhir

Ered-Luin Encampment

Ollie

Large Ballista

Finest Herd

Obvious exits:

Gathering House, Caravanserai, and Great East Road

============== Lord of the Rings Calendar ==============

IC time is:    Nighttime

IC day is:     Thursday

IC date is:    July 26

Moon phase:    Waxing Gibbous

Earendil:      Gil-Estel is not visible.

IC year is:    Third Age 3049

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RL time:        Thu Apr 01 12:00:19 2010

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[Nurenhir(#14756)]

It is night. Upon the path outside the village wanders a cloaked figure with quiet steps and long dark hair. A basket is held beneath one arm, half-filled with various woodland edibles -- a neatly wrapped torch is upheld in the other. The Trollshaws are quiet, for once lacking the perpetual pounding of hammer against house or metal upon flesh, and Nurenhir gazes up to the summer sky.

[Ollie(#15066)] Quiet, indeed! But it is strange that the elf has not caught the cold fetid scent that swirls and eddies in the hollows to the west of the village. Still, what there is of a breeze is blowing away, so that is some excuse.

There, in the fitful light of the stars, is a great bulk as of a boulder, craggy and tall. All is quiet, all is still... the boulder grows an arm, holding something small and square out before it and giving it a shake. And if one can see it in the dark, there is a face - and on the face a frown. Oliver, it seems, is sulking.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

The stillness of the winds diminshes, and the tips of the nearby trees sway to and fro. Something sails dark against the sky above, starlight shimmering off brown and gold. Bright amber eyes are fixated downward, perhaps drawn out of curiousity toward the Elf\'s lone flickering torch in the gloom below. Whatever the skybound thing is, it approaches at a steady pace. Faint whoosh, whooshings can be heard as it nears, still soaring above the treetops. Branches creak in its wake.

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

A sudden breeze swoops by -- the sickly scent of trollish petulance wafts finally into Nurenhir\'s path, and the Elf freezes. Turning his head slowly, he glances about with wide eyes. It is uncertain if he has seen the boulder-like Oliver yet, but he stabs the torch onto the wagon-beaten path, dousing its light, and creeps slowly into the cover of the trees.

[Ollie(#15066)] Something disturbs the troll, for he stops his shaking and looks about, bright black eyes piercing the darkness with little effort. And there... his gaze stops on something that moves, silent to be sure, but not invisible. Carefully, he puts down his saltshaker, and waits...

Whatever is overhead is entirely unseen - is there not a tree in the way?

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

At first it would seem that the great shape in the sky will pass overhead but the torch vanishes without warning, and the pinpoints of eyes peer even more intently downward in an effort to strike through the shroud of darkness.

Lower the creature swoops slowly, and its identity may be finally discerned by those keen of eye, if sight is not hindered by bough or trunk. It is a giant Eagle. The faint sickly scent of troll rises on the air, and Sulgirion tilts his wings to circle back around. A sharp caw slips from avian beak, and something plummets from that briefly open mouth. Thud -- what would appear to be a sheep leg lands somewhere amid the trees off the path.

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

It is raining ... salt. And now, sheep parts. Nurenhir does his best not to cry out in surprise, but a sharp gasp escapes his lips nonetheless. Hugging the basket of mushrooms and foraged greens close to his chest, the cloaked Elf picks his way quickly through the thorny underbrush, away from the harsh cawing and thudding sounds of the salt-shaker.

[Ollie(#15066)] But alas! Oliver, seeing his prize reverse and begin to retreat, lunges up, reaching out to try and catch at the elf. Out of the corner of his eye, something drops. For the moment, he ignores it, being bent on other prey.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

Branches and tree tops are buffetted even more as the enormous bird wheels about, turning first this way and then the other. The feathered head cocks sideways to peer through the outstretched boughs and other forest growth. Finally, Sulgirion seems to spot something of the activity below, for a second shriek rends the night -- this one harsher, bordering on the level of threat.

\"Begone, monster of stone! The meal you seek to catch is faster than you and your reach.\" The forest is too thick to break through, so the eagle merely glides along through the darkling sky, following and carefully observing Nurenhir\'s flight.

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

There are seemingly two monstrously-sized creatures on Nurenhir\'s cloak-tail the fact that the Eagle calls out a threat to the Troll does not help that there is a large shape looming overhead. Nurenhir, too terrified to stand against hungry Oliver yet too stubborn to resign himself to dinner, grasps for the nearest escape -- the branch of a tree. He clambers up quickly, bits of cloak left behind on the thorn-bushes.

[Ollie(#15066)] Oliver looks up, surprised perhaps, but not concerned. The trees are too thick for any eagle to get through them, and he knows this quite well. The troll comes to a halt beneath the tree and peers up through it. His small black eyes glitter in the dim light, and suddenly, he lifts his head and sniffs deeply. \"Elfs,\" his deep gravelly voice rumbles.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

Though he may be unable to dive into the tangle of wood, the eagle isn\'t about to leave the Firstborn to his apparent doom. Instead, Sulgirion shifts course, heading back toward the path outside the village the feathered form streaks down suddenly, ere pulling back up. Clasped in blackened talons is a large boulder -- heavy no doubt by the way the bird struggles to rise higher.

Little time is wasted in returning to where the troll and Elf stand (or in Nurenhir\'s case, cling), and just as quickly, the boulder is dropped, aimed purposefully toward Oliver\'s great head.

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

Between these two titanic figures, what\'s an Elf to do? Nurenhir seeks higher and higher perches, peering down with wide eyes every now and then at the beady troll eyes. The nearest tree ... is it within leaping reach?

A boulder is dropped, and the Elf winces.

[Ollie(#15066)] \"Elf!\" Oliver demands, and grabs the treetrunk with his free hand and shakes it. \"Saahl!\" In case he hasn\'t been clear, he continues. \"MORE saahl! Yer gives!\"

The boulder comes crashing down, and bounces off of his head - which is nearly as hard as it is! Still, it sends the troll staggering back a step, and leaves him standing dizzy and cross-eyed.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

Rock now dropped, the eagle hovers in midair, wings pounding as he watches below. Nurenhir\'s wishful looking toward a nearby tree is perceived at this close range, and Sulgirion directs his wing blasts -- hopefully bending the Elf\'s perch a little closer to the next oak, where he may be able to reach for a new branch therein.

To the troll, only angry avian sounds are yielded.

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

\"I haven\'t any salt,\" cries Nurenhir, looking down at the troll from his precarious grip on a willowy branch. \"I have a bit of mint, though -- take it!!\"

The jump is made slightly less hopeless by the Eagle\'s efforts the Elf\'s long hair whips in the avian-induced wind. Flinging the contents of the foraging basket down at Ollie, the Elf gathers his cloak tightly and squirrel-leaps gracefully at the next oak...

[Ollie(#15066)] Oliver is still dazed. The wind has come up quite suddenly, swirling dirt and grass and tearing leaves off and lashing branches. He blinks. A spate of words comes down at him, along with a sprinkling of ... The troll shakes his head cautiously. \"Men?\" he repeats, and turns around in a complete circle, but there are no men to be seen. And the elf is gone. How odd. But there is that smell - Oliver wanders a pace, picking up the sheep leg and starting to gnaw on it, before returning to stand beneath the tree and peer perplexedly at Nurenhir\'s offering.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

Now that the Elf is higher up in the branches, Sulgirion carefully descends as much as he is able he halts nigh Nurenhir\'s safe haven-oak. Or safe for now at least. Rather than bird-caws, words in Westron come, spoken lower and purposed for elven ears. \"Would you fancy a lift away from here, Master Elf?\" says the eagle, dropping a talon within arm\'s length of the Steward. \"Consider it repayment for all the cakes.\"

[Nurenhir(#14756)]

Nurenhir glances up at the hovering Eagle, smiling weakly. \"I would very much fancy that, Master Sulgirion,\" he says in a voice flat from fright, reaching out for the razor-sharp talons.

Below, the gnawing sounds are not lost on the Elf, and he trembles.

[Sulgirion(#16643)]

Away flaps the giant shape of the eagle, away from the forest and from the chewing troll only swaying treetops are left in sign of departure, and when they still, the Elf is gone.

Back toward the relative safety of the village heads Sulgirion, the elven baker in tow beneath him in claw\'s grasp.