Blood Run: A Terror Returns RPG

[piosenniel]

All Toby’s life, Bree had been such a peaceful place. The Great War had ended, and the King crowned, and the last of the ruffians driven from Breeland, all in the years before his birth. As he had grown up, Bree had flourished, even undergone something of a rebirth, and it was in an age of peace and prosperity that he had started his own family and raised his children; Robbie – or Rob, as he was more often called now – would be ready to start his own family in a few years, and even young Lark was hardly a child now, but blossoming into a young maid. The years went by so quickly, and till now they had gone by with hardly a care.

Of course, there were always the small concerns of daily life; whether most of the ewes would beget healthy lambs in spring, or whether the summer would receive enough rain for the grass to grow thick and green. But Toby was not the worrying sort; Nature takes care of itself, he’d often said.

This wasn’t just the weather or the sheep, though. An unknown menace had been prowling the area at night, killing local livestock. Some simply went missing. Others were ripped apart. Toby had lost four sheep now, within the past two weeks. And just last night, his trusty herding dog Rudy had gone missing. He had found the remains near the edge of his land, barely recognizable as his beloved dog. He had buried him out there, both out of sentimentality and practicality; not only did it seem wrong to simply leave him out there, but Toby also knew that the scent of fresh blood might draw the beast back, and he wasn’t just thinking about the protection of his sheep.

This was about the safety of his family.

Unaccustomed worry lines had creased his face in the past couple weeks. He felt defenseless against this thing, whatever it was - something, or someone, and that was a chilling thought. Long discounted tales from his childhood came to mind, tales about the nameless things that stirred in the Wild. The Wild suddenly seemed a very nearby and menacing place to Toby, who had always considered Bree the safest (if the only) place he knew.

So far, the beast had been content to kill only animals – mostly sheep and pigs, but some cows as well, and now his Rudy, and he had heard tell of a couple cats that had gone missing as well. But who was to say that it might not get a taste for hobbit? No one had ever seen it; would it break in the door? Slip through a window?

Finally, finally now, the mayor had agreed to do something about it. Not that it was much; anyone could hold a meeting to discuss the events. The mayor, Toby thought bitterly, was more fit to head up the social events of the town than to protect it from any real threat. Of course, up until a little while ago, that had been sufficient and Toby had never had much of a complaint. As long as something might happen as a result of the meeting… no, something would happen. Toby would not let the meeting end before a plan of action had been decided on. He himself would head it up if need be. Those town folk, Toby wasn’t sure if they really understood the seriousness of the matter, but there were others who lived out here outside the town walls, others who had the same fears as he, and they would follow him, he knew. They had just as much stake in this as he had – their lives and families to protect.

There had to be something he could do.

~ Firefoot

[piosenniel]

Mayor Hershman of Bree – a tall, willowy man with a large nose and a genuine smile – stood on a small platform at the front of the fair-sized hall. The room before him was filled with worried, excited, and angry townsfolk. He knew he had waited too long to call this meeting, and he knew that still this was not quite what the people were looking for. At times like these, people wanted action. But no one knew what was going on…did they expect him to know any better?

The people stood clumped together, and voices at various level echoed around the hall. Mayor Hershman did his best to look stately, but he found it uncomfortably warm in the town hall, though it was barely spring. The five elder “counselors” that aided him in his duties were seated behind him. Hershman glanced at them, searching their faces for something. Did the people really look to him and these men to help them? They were old men, including himself!

After the mayor felt he had watched enough people – men, women, and entire families – enter the town hall, he gave a nod to one of the counselors, who called the room to order and relative quiet with a booming voice and the ringing of what was little more than a cowbell. It worked well enough. Mayor Hershman wasn’t exactly soft-spoken, anyway.

“Breelanders,” he began, loudly but not as if he were shouting, “our livestock, our pets, and perhaps even ourselves and our families are in danger.” Of course a new set of murmurs and voices not so soft ran through the crowd, but no one was shocked by the mayor’s statement. Everyone knew it was true, everyone knew it was on all of their minds, and everyone knew Hershman never wasted any time skirting an issue – at least once he got down to it.

“I am just as lost as you – no, I know of no one, either, who has seen this…this menace…and though I know that no matter what we’re up against, that we’re going to fight it with all we’ve got-” he paused, and there were a few shouts; not all the hearts in Bree had grown soft, even in this time of peace. But very few of them had actually faced any enemies before. It was Bree…nothing ever happened in Bree…

And yet, Hershman thought he remembered a story…no, those were never true.

“But before we can do a thing to stop…whatever, or, heaven forbid, whoever is threatening us, we have to figure out what we’re up against.” He paused to clear his throat, and this time there was mostly silence. Anyone in this hall could have come up with that thought, he knew. “Now, I know we all have what it takes to protect our land and our loved ones, but in this fearful time, I am calling for a group of Defenders of Bree…to be led by Toby Mugwort, a strong-hearted Breelander since birth.”

The shepherd had already proved to be a loud and dynamic voice in this matter, particularly with what he had already lost to this invisible threat. And the world knew that Hobbits could do great things. Allowing the duty that he hoped many would feel sink in, Mayor Hershman slowly scanned the room, making sure not to really look at anyone in particular, but taking in familiar faces. “Who else will answer the call?” The town hall was suddenly filled with a greater clatter than had been heard in Bree in many years.

~ Durelin

[piosenniel]

Crystal Heart's post

Eric came into the town meeting a little late. He lowered the hood of his green cloak and looked around. Indeed everyone was here to talk about the situation that had rocked the town. He folded his arms and listened to them speak.

What had been happening as of late highly worried him. His sisters were still young and they didn't understand threats. Though he had been trying to drill it into their heads they still went outside. He feared for their safety. He knew that their mother couldn't lose anyone else. Especially not a daughter. Eric was sure that their mother loved his sisters more than him. He looked too much like his father and since his father's death his mother had distanced herself from him.

He wanted to know what this thing was and how to stop it. For the safety of his family and their town. Too many had died already and they needed to stop whatever was doing it. He listened as they bantered about what should be done. Finally, Eric couldn't handle it any more.

"What we need is a group of our strongest and bravest men to go out and find whatever is killing everything and stop it. The more time we spend arguing about it the more this thing gets away with what it is doing," Eric pointed out.

The mayor looked up at him and gave him a hard stare. One that seemed to penetrate through Eric, but it didn't phase him. He was use to such stares from men of authority. Sometimes they didn't like his outbursts and sometimes he couldn't help but outburst. This was one of those outburst times.

"Indeed, Eric you are correct. Thank you for volunteering to be the first in the group to defend Bree," the mayor replied. Ericop ened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it. Certainly he hadn't been volunteering himself! Well, he had been the one to think of the idea. He closed his mouth and took a deep breath.

"You are very welcome mayor. I would be glad to go with the noble men that would join me in defending our fair city," Eric replied with a clipped tone. What had he just gotten himself into?

[piosenniel]

Dunwen's post

Normally, Sam Tunnelly liked Big Folk. After all, he'd lived in Bree since he'd been apprenticed at the age of fourteen to the town smith, who was a Man himself. But at this day's town meeting, their sheer size made it hard for a Hobbit, even one as strong as Sam, to get through. Alas, he'd arrived too late to get a seat on one of the benches, so he had to listen as best he could. Seeing over the heads of the crowd would be unlikely for any of the Little Folk; seeing through the press of bodies a matter of luck.

Some town meetings attracted only a scant number of people of either size, but this one was about the rash of mangled animal corpses that had shown up all over the Breeland and it was packed. Sam's own Dad, a farmer on the outskirts of town, had sent word only yesterday that they'd lost one of their two milk cows and that a barn cat had been found torn to bits. Losing the cow was a hard blow for the family, as the extra dairy goods had brought a small but steady income to the farm. But the cat was scarier, for they seldom strayed far from the barn, and the barn was an easy walk from the door of their burrow. According to the neighboring farmer who'd brought word to Sam, his Dad wasn't letting his mother or two younger sisters step outside unless he or his oldest son, Sam's brother Frodo, was with them.

Many others were as frightened as his father, he learned as he listened carefully to the talk in his immediate vicinity. Sam recognized several voices. He stood up to his full four feet when he heard his old friend Eric Wadell speaking. Sam approved of Eric's suggestion for a group of Breelandrs to find the thing and stop it. He frowned at the mayor's high-handedness in telling Eric he had to be one of the searchers, though. He'd bet a gold piece that Eric hadn't intended to go on the hunt. His friend had a mother and sisters to support, after all.

As talk went on in the meeting, Sam had a small debate with himself. He didn't like the idea of going out and looking for some unknown and bloodthirsty thing, but there were others, Big and Little, who volunteered to join Eric in doing just that. He thought of his Dad's fears for their womenfolk. It occured to him that he was probably the strongest hobbit in Bree and at only 34 years old, he had no one depending on him for support. He'd learned some woodcraft as a boy hunting with bow and arrow. And if one of his best friends was going --

"Hi!" The burly hobbit jumped and waved his hand to get the mayor's attention. "I'll go, too." He cleared his throat and added, "Sam Tunnelly, journeyman smith," somewhat unnecessarily, as he was known to most of Bree.

'Well, I've put my toes in the fire now,' he thought unhappily, as the meeting went on around him. 'I hope they don't get eaten along with the rest of me.'

[piosenniel]

Dimturiel's post

The Town Hall had never been so crowded, thought Erling. Nor had the faces of the people there shown so much concern. Anxiety was not something those of Bree usually felt. The lands had been quiet ever since Erling could remember, and they were becoming even quieter with every year that passed. Fewer were now the tales of troubled times, and only the old ones remembered such days. the world seemed to have become peaceful and sleepy.

Yet now something was happening, something hard to explain, and harder still to accept. The malice-whatever that consisted of, for they had no idea-had descened upon them without so much as the most insignificant sign to herald its presence. It had managed to elude all vigillance, to pass all that they have considered unpassable by such evils, and it crept in their midst to strike with a suddeness that had nearly made them helpless. Who had been prepared for something like this? Who could have foretold its coming?

Who could tell now who had been the first farmer that, going one morning to inspect his flock, had discovered one or two sheep missing or had found their body lying in a pool of blood? And even then, who had paid much attention to such incident that, however unusual and gruesome foretold nothing at the time? And yet, as the days went by, these happenings became more and more frequent, and it was clear that the danger was greater than they had first thought it to be. None could ignore it now.

Erling was among those who had suffered from the terror, although their animals had been attacked more recently than those of other villagers. He remembered that he had just gone with his father to look at the sheep when they saw that two of them were missing. That was how it all started. Yet no, he thought. It had not begun with the sheep. There had been a stray dog near Erling's farm. The boy would sometimes cast food at it. It was by no means a friendly creature-it could actually be quite ferocious when provoked,-but it tolerated Erling and seemed even to be quite fond of him. Late into the night, Erling could hear its barking, and it seemed in a way comforting, as if it were a proof that the world and everything familiar in it were still there. One night, however, Erling woke up and realised he could hear nothing. There was no barking. And then he knew something had happened. He had not seen the dog since.

True, things had become quite serious, and that meeting from the Town Hall was proof of that. Erling had gone there at the bidding of his father.He would not have gone otherwise, unable to see how his presence might improve the situation.

But as he was listening to the Mayor's talk of a group that would try and put a stop to what was happening he suddenly felt excited. There would be intresting stories to be told after all that was over, he thought. But it was not only that. There was also something else, something he could not quite understand.

Till the end of his days, Erling was unable to understand what had possessed him then. He had often wonderer what had really happened there, but he could never get a satisfactory answer. All he knew was that he suddenly found himself getting up and heading towards where the mayor stood.

"I wish to go, too." he anounced, loud enough so that everyone heard him. "I...I wish to be of some use."

He paused looking around him. The others seemed to have accepted his expressed intention of being one of the "Defenders", as the Mayor called them. He, however, began to feel a little puzzled. He leaned against the wall, a baffled expression in his eyes.

"What have I done now?" he muttered to himself.

[piosenniel]

Forest Elf's post

Grimbeorn sat there, his ears working and listening as he took in every word that was said. He was alert and aware or everything going on around him. He could see fear for the welfare of the ones these people held close to their hearts; he could see their fear and worry about where this creature or, this being was going to take its next meal from. Keeping his face guarded so as not to show any of his feelings, as he had done before at events in any town, city, or hall’s meetings. It was a habit he had, one that he knew he should quit, but found that he liked being at these meetings with such a look, even though at this guarded look could send people wondering if he was the one behind this. He could always say that he had merely gotten here yesterday, as he had, but he doubted that anyone would believe him on that.

As he listened to the argument, he felt that it was very pointless. After a few men had volunteered he stood. Looking at the mayor he stated, loudly, “I have traveled for many days to get here, after word of the killings got to my ear. I did not come all this way to simply sit around listening to arguments and plans, I came here to help find out what…this, this thing is that’s killing these livestock and few pets and put an end to these killings that have been ruining the lives of these peoples!” Then, he after realizing what he had said, he thought he may have appeared a bit wilder and dangerous with making that statement. He didn’t wish to pose as a threat to anyone but that thing that was taking the livestock. He lowered his head a little to hide his scars, thankful that his hair was long enough to conceal it away in shadows, so that he might not appear as frightening.

[piosenniel]

mormegil's post

Kuric was rather well traveled, even by dwarf standards and had seen many places in Middle-earth and visited a large amount of areas both civilized and uncivilized. He was and adventurer and treasure hunter and loved to be on the move. Little had slowed him down, after a 5 year respite back at home; if it could truly be called home for he spent such little time there, in Erebor Kuric decided it was time to go seek adventure once again.

After the great war of the ring, in which Kuric proudly fought along side his people, Middle-earth had found peace for many years, and while this was good for most, it was horrible for Kuric. He felt bored and needed some adventure. North was the desired course for him. Perhaps he could find adventure outside the realm of King Ellesar.

Kuric had intended to head to the northern reaches of Eriador to seek out trolls, orcs, or other foul creatures. While on his way he took a brief reprieve in Bree and was familiar with the area as he had stayed here on previous occasions. While familiar with many he was not overly friendly with many, though some of the hardy men became Kuric’s drinking mates and they had many good nights at the Prancing Pony. Kuric was ready to set off once again when he heard of strange happenings, Kuric was excited that adventure found him in the least likely place and anticipation coursed through him and he figured he might as well see this out. He knew that this small and rather pathetic, little establishment would need the veteran leadership and experience of an old campaigner such as him. He would whip this rag tag crew into shape and get to the cause of this mystery. He decided he would attend the meeting and give his aid.

Sitting through the meeting Kuric was happy to hear that the mayor didn't pull any punches and was honest with the townfolk. As a whole, meetings bored him and this was no exception too many people talking and not enough decisions. After hearing Grimbeorn speak up about his experience and the need the town would need of his aid, Kuric could take it no more. He stood abruptly, chuckled loudly and stated matter of factly " Bah! You need a dwarfs help in this and I've got nothing better ta do at the time so I'll be helping you all out here. After all I've seen a bit more adventure than the lot of ya and if things get rough ye'll have me mace, it has sat idle for too long now and is quenching some blood." Kuric grinned and was rather pleased with himself. He felt he had a way with words and making people feel at ease.

[piosenniel]

Newsman's post

Madoc had always lived a good life. He had a beautiful family, a laid back and easy-going lifestyle, many friends. What more could a hobbit ask for? Yet many a night had found him sitting outside with his pipe looking at the stars and questioning himself. Something had grown inside him, could it be what had caused that hobbit to leave so long ago...what was his name, Bilbo?

That was when it was still safe to be outside at night. Lately things had grown dangerous, something new to people around here. Livestock were turning up dead, and even Toby Mugwort's dog had been killed. His own dog seemed nervous outside.

Madoc had a family to think of, and that was what had driven him to the town meeting. He could barely contain himself with how long the mayor had waited to address this issue. Yet he kept himself in check, and the anger slowly dissapated. The meeting progressed, and the plan of action was announced. Toby was to lead a group to find this "thing". As man and hobbit alike argued over the outcome, and who should join, Madoc stayed quiet in his seat.

Madoc respected Toby quite alot, but he really couldn't see himself doing something this daring. He stood up to go, but was pushed forward in the ruckus, his hand went up and the Mayor called him out. "Madoc Hurnt! Are you volunteering to join this cause?" The old mayor bellowed.

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Madoc stammered a reply. "Well, no...I...well I mean..." Suddenly that feeling that he needed something more took over, and the yearning for adventure rose. "I mean YES, yes I am." What was done was done, this was going to be very interesting.

[piosenniel]

Finduilas' post

Ash thought that it was very unfair that when his father was no longer able to help much, something should start attacking the area. Even though only one or two animals on their farm had been killed, many people around Bree had lost animals. Ash hadn’t wanted to come to the meeting, but Father wasn’t able to, so there was nothing for it. At least Leonora was allowed to come.

Ash wasn’t a coward, but he felt very young as the meeting began, even though he saw that there were many other young men in the group. However, he soon forgot himself in the excitement of the meeting. He saw the threat of this new thing, and he saw no reason why he should not be able to find it. After all, he was an ambitious youth.

‘The poor mayor,” thought Ash, “This must be a hard job.”

When the Mayor called for volunteers, Ash waited till a few people had volunteered, then stood up.

“Sir, Leonora and I would be happy to be of any help to the lands and people of Bree. Count us in.” He said this, not noticing that he had volunteered Leonora, without even thinking. A quick look from her told him his mistake, but he saw that it was to late to take it back. He merely smiled apologetically and sat down.

[piosenniel]

Thinlómien's post

Leanora looked out of the window, watching a crow fly in the sky. She was deep in thought and hardly listened to the Mayor's words. It was not that she wasn't interested - she was - but the Mayor's speech was very dull and there was nothing new for her as the Mayor's daughter, Jinna, had already told her the latest news.

Leanora was thinking about the issue. Many people had lost animals, mostly sheep. Leanora and her brother's friend Jock had lost his dear dog. What kind of beast can it be? Papa had suggested that the killers were ordinary wolves, who had just become more aggressive, but Leanora couln't agree. It wasn't a satisfactory explanation. Old stories of hill trolls and even more horrible beats of the wilderness kept danicng in her head.

Suddenly Leanora noticed Ash springing up. "Sir, Leanora and I would be happy to be of any help to the lands and people of Bree. Count us in", he said in a steady voice. Leanora cast a quizzical look at him. He sat down and smiled his apologetic smile. Leanora rolled her eyes. Ash never asks my opinion because he always thinks he can assume what I think, Leanora thought, a bit grumpily. Ash looked at her. "Lea?" he asked, looking slightly worried. He seemed to wonder if he had mistaken her feelings about the matter. "It seems we're going, then", she said and grinned. How could her brother have even slightly doubted her love for adventures?

[piosenniel]

Farael's post

“You should go to this Town Meeting son, it will be good for you” Grumbled Robby, thinking of what his father had told him earlier that day. “Oh, your dad is right Rob” had said his mother “it won’t be long before you realize your tweens are over and you are a gentlehobbit. You can’t grow up overnight son”.

Well, how was he ever going to grow up if he kept being told what to do by his parents? As they said themselves, he was almost out of his tweens! Regardless, here he was, looking desperately for any of his friends to talk to. He did not find any of his usual friends, but instead, he saw beautiful Rose Overhill. She was Timmy’s (or rather Timothy Underhil, Robby’s best friend) cousin’s twice removed on his mother’s side, which among hobbits is close enough to be considered a “relative”. As such, she was invited to Timmy’s birthday parties, where she did an excellent job of ignoring Robby Twofoot. Not to be discouraged by such minor setbacks, Robby kept on approaching her, until she finally agreed that he was not that bad a hobbit. Yet in spite of young Twofoot’s best efforts to impress her, she only regarded him as an acquaintance.

As he slowly made his way towards her in the crowded room, the mayor of Bree started talking about this frightful menace that was haunting the farms. Robby had, as the son of a farmer himself, heard plenty about it, but he did not concern himself much with it. None of his sheep had been attacked, and so he considered himself safe, and perhaps a little lucky. Still, knowing it would not do to start a conversation while the major was speaking, he stopped walking and pretended to pay attention to what Mayor Hershman was saying. Truth was, he was still looking at Miss Overhill, hoping to catch her eye.

Mayor Hershman, meanwhile, rambled on and on about this menace, and what they would do about it. It seemed that Farmer Mugwort would lead a group of men and hobbits to find out what this monster was, and deal with it accordingly. It sounded like an adventure something that only those crazy folks from The Shire seemed bent on doing. He had heard many stories about “Mad Baggins” and his endless treasure, and then his son Frodo, along with Mayor Gamgee, had killed some sorcerer or another (personally, he always liked better the story of Master Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, two great and memorable hobbits who had fought alongside kings… and talking trees). But that was work for the Shire folk and not good , decent hobbits of Bree.

A few hands were raised, volunteers who would follow Farmer Mugwort on his search for this “menace”. And then, the unthinkable happened. Rose Overhill finally noticed him being there, and acknowledged him with a smile. Not only that, she walked over to him, and in a voice that sounded as harps playing in sweet harmony told Robby “Robby Twofoot! I did not expect to find you here. I thought you would be trampling around with your friends, too busy with your games and jests to be concerned by the troubles of others”

-“Why, of course Miss Overhill, I am no longer a lad of twenty five summers.” Answered Robby, hoping to sound more confident than how he truly felt. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking I should perhaps volunteer to join Farmer Mugwort and the others. It is time I do something other than looking after my daddy’s… that is, my father’s cattle.”

Rose seemed to be truly impressed, and so with a tingling in his stomach that may have been caused the proximity of Miss Overhill (or perhaps the fact that his father would positively disown him for being so reckless) Robby Twofoot raised his hand to catch Mayor Hershman’s eye and volunteered himself. After all, they were just going to find out what this “thing” may be… there was no reason to be worried about it, a couple of days camping under the stars and looking at what Robby expected to be some pawprints from one animal or another. No reason to be worried at all.

[piosenniel]

Durelin's post - Parkun Felderth

This is a joke, Parkun thought as he scanned the people around him, a very large crowd by Bree’s standards. He smirked as he observed the mayor and the elder council of the town, wondering why everyone stood and listened to such frail hands and failing minds. White hair did not equate with wisdom.

These town meetings frustrated him to no end, and the more typical ones put him quickly to sleep, but there were appearances to consider. His father was the innkeeper of the Prancing Pony, and as the son of such a man, he had to be just as an upstanding townsperson. And what well-to-do person did not go to the town meetings?

“I know we all have what it takes to protect our land and our loved ones,” the mayor boomed, and Parkun suppressed a snort. “But in this fearful time, I am calling for a group of Defenders of Bree…” the young man began to really listen at the phrase ‘group of defenders’, “to be led by Toby Mugwort, a strong-hearted Breelander since birth.”

A group of defenders led by…a Hobbit? Parkun thought with wonder. This town was even more of a joke than he thought. A Hobbit couldn’t stand up even to whatever petty criminals or common beasts were causing a scare. When men began volunteering to be a part of the group, Kun believed they might have a chance. But then a woman was volunteered, and then a Dwarf – of all people – who sounded very full of himself, and then even more Hobbits.

What a motley crew. And the safety of the town was in their hands? Hah, Parkun laughed to himself, we’re lucky they’re not up against much. Perhaps they were quite lucky, as well. If they were already granted the lofty title of ‘Defenders of Bree’, before they had accomplished anything, this group was surely all set up for grand treatment by the other townsfolk.

Just when the mayor, and all the others present, seemed to think they had a good number of ‘Defenders’, Parkun lifted up his hand with only an awkward nod to Master Hershman, thinking that maybe it was time the innkeeper’s second eldest made some sort of name for himself.

[piosenniel]

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[Firefoot]

"Very well, then," the mayor concluded. "Unless there are any other volunteers...?" None were forthcoming. "The general meeting is dismissed, but I believe that Toby would like to have a few words with the Defenders," he said, casting a questioning look at Toby who was standing near the front of the room. Toby affirmed this statement with a nod, and the mayor continued, "If those of you could meet right up here."

The Defenders, such as they were, made their way to the front where Toby was waiting, appraising the group of which he had been placed in charge. He was grateful that Madoc had volunteered; he was a stout hobbit whose situation was similar to Toby's own. As for the rest of the lot, Toby wasn't as sure. Many of them were so young - Toby was more familiar with their fathers than them; his children might be friends with this lot. And one of them was a young woman! Toby would never have let his wife or any of his daughters volunteer for this perilous venture. He hoped that these young folk really did understand the gravity of their plight and didn't just see the whole affair as a great 'adventure.'

Then there were those two strangers whom Toby had never seen before, one of them that Dwarf who had made some fuss about his mace being thirsty for bloodshed. What sort of talk was that? At this point, Toby was almost willing to believe that one of them had somehow been behind all these killings, and had only joined the Defenders to cover it up. But he supposed that was tomfoolery; surely no person had ripped apart his sheep and dog like that! Or so he hoped.

"Now, then," he said, clearing his throat as the last of the Defenders gathered around. "I suppose most of you have a fair idea of this creature's methods...?" There was some nodding. "I'd like to start by having you all share your experiences and propose any ideas you have on what might be behind it."

[Forest Elf]

Grimbeorn, in seeing that no one was too excited to speak up, he said, “I have had a few experiences with creatures before. Would…was there any sign of footprints in the ground around the killings? Or were the grounds just bare? If it were a creature…surely it would have left foot prints.”

Grimbeorn’s face was still in shadow, he wasn’t sure what these folk would think of him when they saw his scar. He didn’t want to appear frightening to them…and he certainly didn’t want to become a suspect. He gently fingered his sword hilt, reminding himself that he hadn’t practiced much in the past week or so. That would also mean he’d have to get some target practice in as well.

[Farael]

“Footprints? I would not know my good Sir, my father’s cattle has been safe from this… thing. We have some ferocious dogs guarding our sheep, and that seems to suffice. Surely this nuisance is nothing more than that, some wild animal or another.” Answered Robby, feeling uncomfortable by the sense of gloom in the group around him.

“Now, I dare say the big folk among us will laugh at me and call me too much of a hobbit, if that was ever possible, but I believe that a little food would do us no harm. I see no reason to be so grim, let us sit around the table and discuss what to do next! Although… I suppose talking about dead animals, bloodied carcasses and the like would certainly ruin our appetite. Not to mention that, as my Pa’ says, bad news at the table makes for worse news after. We would not want to start our trip with an indigestion! No sir, that will not do at all. Perhaps we should all leave food for after we have discussed this grim business?” offered the hobbit, forgetting not only that he had been the one to propose food in the first place, but also that he had not given anyone else a chance to talk.

Feeling his verbosity abate, Robby crossed his arms and tried to look as serious as he could manage. “Well, then I would say that those of us who have had trouble with whatever we are after should speak up first. There is no point in having this hobbit speaking his lungs out if he knows little that can help us right now.”

[Durelin]

When the Town Hall had been cleared of all but the freshly named "Defenders of Bree", it suddenly seemed much larger. The walls loomed down on Parkun, and the floorboards glared up at him. "And why are you here?" they taunted, though he found the glances of any of the others in the group to be worse: more questioning, more accusing. But accusing of what? Did they really look at each other and think that maybe, just maybe the 'it' everyone was afraid of was right there in front of their noses?

Perhaps they did...it was possible.

The silence at first, after Toby did his best to initiate whatever planning they were going to do, made Parkun wonder how long it would take before they all scared themselves out of being "Defenders", but when one of the men finally spoke, sensibility seemed to suddenly return. Of course, he had little to pose other than a question regarding footprints. Kun had not heard of any signs of what was behind the attacks at all - he had heard from some naive children and crazy old men that it was a spirit, a shadow. Some creature leftover from the war, when sorcery was real...

One of the Hobbits of the group broke in, and Parkun had to resist cradling his head in his hand as the halfling rambled. How reliably typical, he thought bitterly. The young man only half listened to what the Hobbit said, but one word in particular hooked his attention: 'trip'.

Parkun opened his mouth to interject, but the Hobbit was not finished. Waiting until the shorter being had actually acknowledged that he was 'speaking his lungs out', the strawberry-blonde asked bluntly, "Our trip?"

[mormegil]

“It be trolls I tell ya” blurted Kuric abruptly. All of this talk about this being a simple creature had made him boil over, for he truly wanted it to be more, and he was irritated at how naïve and simple these folk were. “Yep this is the work of trolls or I don’t have a beard.” To emphasize the point Kuric stroked his beard slowly and thoughtfully. “Perhaps it a werewolf though, I’ve heard of ‘em up in these parts in times past. Times have changed and not all for the better, I say. Used to be that a dwarf could come up north here and find some good excitement, problem is now that this new king has tamed most of the wild, but it looks like he missed a something. I’ve seen more than the lot of you put together ‘ave seen and I’ve been through these parts in the old days back when things weren’t so safe and calm” Kuric’s face was giddy with anticipation, hoping that it truly was a troll or some other evil creature. “I tell you lot this much, this ain’t no simple task before ya now. I’m a bit concerned fer ya ta be honest, meaning no disrespect, of course, but I’d rather not have a hobbit leadin’ us and that’d be why I stepped in. Ye’ll need some old campaigner for the leader here and I’m the person fer the job.” Kuric looked at the rag-tag group before him, completely confident that no further discussion would be needed.

“Now what we need to do is get busy, and this hobbit had some sense in thinking about some food first. I’m saying we need some ale and we need it quick. Nothing puts me in the mood for a hunt quite like some good ol’ ale” Kuric chuckled at himself. Looking to Toby Kuric said, “Now what are ya waiting for lad, run along and get us some ale.” With that Kuric gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

[Dimturiel]

All the others had left, and only the new “Defenders” were now in the town hall. Erling could hardly believe that he was actually one of them. Surely he had gone too far this time. But there was no question of backing up now, lest he should be despised to the end of his days and remembered only as a coward. And that was not a thought that one like Erling could bear.

But for now it seemed that there were many just as uncomfortable as him. He looked at the group with interest and curiosity. Perhaps they had stories to tell. The old dwarf at least surely had, and maybe the other stranger too. Perhaps, when they were not too busy with their “defending” job, he would ask them to share some of his experiences with him.

But what exactly would they do as “Defenders”, Erling had no idea. Maybe the others had, although, by the looks of it, many were as baffled as he, if not more. Toby Mugwort had asked them for some suggestions, but that had lead only to an awkward silence, which was thankfully broken by Grimbeorn’s question about footprints. It was a sensible question, only it did not help much as no traces of the creature had been seen. A chill went suddenly down Erling’s spine, as he understood what that fact meant. Why were there no footprints? Surely all creatures left marks behind them. All living creatures, that was. Then what…?

Kuric’s talk about trolls awoke Erling from his musings. At first he listened with the greatest attention and also with a slight-or more than slight, if he wanted to be fair- apprehension. But soon enough all this turned to annoyance as he noticed the arrogance of the old dwarf, and the way he considered himself above the others. Those of Bree were not perhaps brave warriors, few actually could boast of knowing how to wield a sword or the likes, but they were all stout and bold at need. And need was great then. Their lives were at stake.

And as for Kuric’s treatment of Toby Mugwort, Erling had to try hard to restrain himself from saying some not very soft words to the “old campaigner” as he so arrogantly called himself. Master Mugwort was one of the most respected personages in Bree, and there were few who did not speak highly of him. What was that old dwarf unfamiliar with the ways of Bree doing by bossing one of the most highly-regarded folk in town? Erling thought that he might as well tell him-if not in the not very kind words he had first wanted to say-how things stood.

“Well, master Kuric,” he began. “Meaning no disrespect to you and not doubting your bravery and good intentions, but I think you should ask us how we feel about it before calling yourself our leader. See, you may know much about war and evil creatures, but we know little of you. And it is hard, master Kuric, really hard for us to put ourselves in the hands of a stranger we have never seen before. And you too, should try learning some things about us. For one thing, for you all this is a hunt, a way of amusing yourself, but for us…well, our families are at stake, and we find this business by no means amusing.”

Perhaps he had said too much, Erling thought. Perhaps now he had earned himself an enemy, and even among those who were forced to act together with him. But what had been said could hardly be unsaid now. And he thought he had been in the right. After all, it had been about the honor of his town and its people.

[Firefoot]

Lad? Lad? Toby had to be one of the oldest in the group! Kuric's pompous manner and arrogant tone had nearly set Toby's easy-going temper over the edge. Just who did this Dwarf think he was, anyhow?

He was grateful when Erling stepped in with a mild word of reproof to the Dwarf, as it gave Toby a few seconds to take a few deep breaths and compose a dignified response. He nodded his approval at Erling's statements and addressed Kuric rather stiffly.

"You will get your own ale, if that's what pleases you. We are all equals in this group and no one, least of all you, an outsider to this town, has the right to order anyone else around - particularly for something so mundane as ale!

"Now, you joined this group of Defenders knowing full well that the mayor had appointed me as leader to this group and if you had a problem with it you should have addressed him then. As it is, I daresay that if the mayor had wanted only someone skilled in battle for a leader, he might have chosen you, but clearly that is not the only quality such a leader requires. I also daresay I know a sight more about these killings than you do. Now," he said in an effort to refocus the meeting, addressing the whole group in a tone that was nearly even, "I've lost four sheep and a dog to whatever this is, though I can't say I remember seeing any tracks," he added with a nod to Grimbeorn; this outsider, at least, had a decent sense of respect! "The unusual thing about these killings is there doesn't seem to be any pattern to it; some of the sheep disappear, some are ripped to shreds - and never a sound in the night. If it were some ordinary creature I'd expect to be woken by snarls and cries... and whatever it is, no one's ever seen it. What we need, maybe, is a map... to figure out where it might be hiding during the day. Parkun, does your father keep one around here, perhaps...?"

[Durelin]

Parkun was too annoyed that no one even noted his question to pay much attention to anyone else. Kuric’s first words were difficult to ignore, as he suddenly burst out something about trolls of all things. Trolls, creatures of legend...who was this Dwarf? Just the fact that he was a Dwarf was odd enough to the young man - not that he had not seen at least one or two before – but his greying hair and wrinkled face made Parkun wonder how many years this being had walked Middle-earth.

At least one too many, he thought, as Kuric boisterously rambled on. At the Dwarf's final words, an order to Master Mugwort, the young man had to suppress a laugh. Something wasn’t quite normal in this stranger’s head, to say the least. Erling responded to the Dwarf in his characteristically mild way, but Parkun thought Kuric might challenge even Erling’s patience with just a little time.

What would happen if they really offended this old Dwarf? He seemed to usually be at least a bit high strung, and sensibility probably wasn’t something he understood. If they pushed him over the edge in even the slightest…

Could he…? Parkun wondered. Trolls, indeed. Had Kuric arrived around the same time the attacks had started? The young man couldn’t remember when he had first seen the Dwarf in his father’s inn. He’s crazy enough, perhaps. That, at least, Parkun knew.

“Parkun, does your father keep one around here, perhaps...?”

The young Master Felderth jumped slightly when he heard his name and was dragged from his thoughts. Keep one…one what? He wracked his brain for anything he might have heard, and as a result he simply stared dumfounded at Farmer Mugwort for a moment or two until the word came to him: map.

“Oh, yes, he and his maps…” Parkun paused and glanced around him, feeling a little uneasy. If he went to get one of the maps, it would take him nearly an hour to just convince his father to let him bring it to the town hall. “Err…well, seeing as some have voiced a desire for food and drink…perhaps we should head over to my father’s inn, where we can see all of his maps?” More time could easily be wasted there, as well.

[Finduilas]

Ash was sorry to see that there was already contention among the Defenders. He disagreed with the dwarf, and was glad that Toby said something, but he hoped that Kuric wouldn't get insulted by his being put into place. After all, they all needed to work together, and there was no way to tell how long they would have to bear with each other.

Ash hoped that people would agree with Parkun, for he believed that food would improve the humor of the group, even though that sounded like a hobbitish idea. But even though he agreed, he didn't want to say so, seeing as there were enough opinions voiced, without him saying anything. So he waited silently, and desperatly hoped that tempers wouldn't flare.

While all had talked he had observed the other Defenders. He knew many of they himself, or at least had seen them before, and recognized them. But the dwarf, and a strange man, who had fingered his sword as he spoke. Ash hoped that he wouldn't cause any trouble, or prove dangerous.

[Newsman]

Madoc just sat and shook his head. This is the group thats gonna stop this...this...thing? He couldn't help but realize that the contention had obviously come from the Dwarf's comments, both on the nature of the creature as well as his attempt at ordering Toby. With a sigh he filled his pipe and lit it before drawing in a large whiff and puffing it out, staring into the smoke.

A terror of this sort was new to him, and truth be told he was scared out of his wits. After all his family was important to him, and if this menace began targeting people...He shuddered at the thought. As he gazed absentmindedly about the group, his eyes locked on to the man who was half hidden in the shadows. Madoc quickly averted his eyes and turned to the young man next to him.

"Ash isn't it?" A nod from the boy proved him right. "Lad, between you and me, I have a sneaky suspicion that this creature could be right here among us. Now dont get me wrong and all, I'm not the suspicious sort, but one has to cover all the bases."

Before the boy could reply, Madoc addressed the group. "I think Parkun is right you know, never knew a group who could think well on an empty stomach. I say we eat and try to find out what connects these attacks if anything." He was hoping someone else would agree, eating would make things less formal, and give him the time to tell his suspicion to Toby without drawing unneeded attention. Madoc inhaled from his pipe again and waited for things to play out.

[Forest Elf]

Grimbeorn listened to what the others had to say. He thought that Kuric was being too bold for a first meeting, well, that is, unless he isn’t a stranger. Then they’d probably have expected such talk from a dwarf. As for him, he could be considered a stranger easily. Lifting his face slightly, he listened to what the others had to say. He noticed that one of the hobbit’s looked his way, but quickly looked away. Raising his face slightly he looked again at the group which he had joined, consisting of men, hobbits, and a dwarf. I wonder what adventures this group will see…I wonder how many of the have actually faced combat before, he thought to himself.

After the mention of food, his stomach gave a small grumble. Somewhat embarrassed, he said with a slight, embarrassed laugh, “Well, I say that my stomach just gave my answer for me. Yes, let’s go somewhere to eat and try to figure out who or what is responsible for the killings.”

[Firefoot]

"I'd say we have an agreement, then," said Toby, realizing that he would have to be the one to announce a decision or they would all simply stand there talking about food while no one actually had any. "Let's head over to the Prancing Pony."

Toby led the way out of the Town Hall, assuming that the band would all follow. What a troop we must look! he thought. He was thankful that the Inn was only a short walk down the road, since he could still feel the thick tension in the air, only slightly lessened as small pockets of discussion broke out.

It was not long before Toby found Madoc walking beside him. "How've you been, Madoc?" he greeted. Then noticing the thoughtful expression on the other hobbit's face, added, "Something in particular on your mind?"

[Crystal Heart]

Eric sat back and watched all that was happening. When they mentioned food he gave a smile. Yes, he was hungry but he hadn't wanted to admit it just yet. He gave a nod in reply and hung back as the group headed off to the pub. As he hung back he contemplated what he had just gotten himself into. He had volunteered himself for a very dangerous journey. Would his family be angry with him? Probably. He was the man of the family, had been since his father's death. Losing him too would be determental to them all.

He shook away his worried thoughts. This was the first adventure he would be in on in a very long time. He should be looking forward to the adventure and the honor instead of fearing of how everything would end up for his mother and unwed sisters. He had them to take care of after all.

[Dunwen]

Sam brightened at the thought of the fine food and drink at the Prancing Pony. For the first few moments of their walk to the inn, his thoughts dwelt pleasurably on ale, bread and cheese. Shortly, however, they drifted to his companions and what little he knew about most of them.

Toby Mugwort and Madoc Hurnt he knew by sight; both were of an age with his Dad. The youngest hobbit, the Twofoot boy, he knew only slightly better from a few occasions when he and his dad had brought some of their tools to the smithy to be repaired. So far as Sam knew, all three of the other hobbits were solid and steady fellows.

The Men he thought were a mixed bag. For one thing, they included a female, Leonora. Her inclusion had surprised him greatly. Although Sam was aware of her hoydenish girlhood, when she and her twin had indulged in their fair share of hijinks in Bree, it seemed strange to him that a girl would want to leave her home for what could be a very dangerous job. He wondered if the twins were too young to be an asset to the 'Defenders', although he said nothing. Farmer Mugwort had accepted both of them, and he was the leader despite what the dwarf said.

He wasn't quite sure about Master Parkun, either. Sam had observed the innkeeper's second son during some of his periodic visits to the Pony. There wasn't anything he could put his finger on, so to speak, but the lad had run with a wild crowd when he was younger. And he wasn't a particularly friendly type either. Sometimes he acted like he was trying to hide something. Erling, on the other hand, was an outgoing, pleasant sort. Sam knew him from the inn, too. A friendly fellow in his early tweens, he was always hanging on new folk passing through, asking for travelers' tales. Sam liked what he'd seen of him up to now.

He reserved judgement on the strange Man, and the dwarf, who seemed pretty high and mighty going on about trolls and fighting and such. That Grimbeorn at least hadn't tried to boss everyone around.

Catching up to his friend Eric, he murmurred quietly enough so no one could hear, "Quite a group we've got here, haven't we?"

[Thinlómien]

Leanora found herself walking beside Ash, as always. The twins did not talk, they were both deep in thought.

Ash's friend Madoc came to say hello to him. Leanora didn't know the hobbit and in her current mood she left herself out of their company, walking a few paces behind them. She looked around, wonderingly, when she saw a familiar figure running towards them. What is Orin doing here?

Leanora waited for her little brother to come. Meanwhile, the others kept walking: it seemed they hadn't noticed the arrival of the young lad nor Leanora stopping. "Orin, what is it now?" Lea asked, slightly annoyed because of the interferance. The boy pulled a face at his sister. "I wasn't to come to bring you a message. I was to bring it to Master Mugwort." The lad took a few steps to the bigger group, when his sister gripped his shoulder. "Were you?" she asked. Leanora couldn't believe their father would send the ill-mannered lad to bring the news to the respected hobbit gentleman. Orin tried to get free from his sister's grasp, but he couldn't.

"What are you doing? Orin, why are you here?" Ash had noticed his sister was missing and come to them. "Lea, we should be going, the others are over there already", he said, pointing. "I see, maybe we should go", she said and cast a doubtful look at her younger brother, letting him go. He sprinted off. "Mugwort, Mugwort", he shouted, running to the others. Lea and Ash gave each other the all too familiar "oh no"-look and spurted after him.

The lad ran to Toby Mugwort, who was talking to Madoc, and interrupted their discussion. "Mister Mugwort! My Papa wanted you to know that our neighbour's horse has gone missing!"

It took the hobbit a moment to answer, and Leanora - who had just arrived with Ash - decided to interfere: "Excuse him, Master Mugwort", she took a quick breath. "This is my and Ash's brother, Orin. He seems to have news from our father, Renly Winkle. And by 'our neighbour' I trust he means farmer Todd Maple", she finished abruptly.

[mormegil]

Kuric was glad to see the group moving toward the inn. Finally, I can get me some ale this day, thought Kuric. The outburst by the so-called leader of this group was to be expected. Kuric had seen it all before many times. Little people too foolish to know who the real leader is, he thought to himself. It's only a matter of time ‘til he looses it all, audibly chuckling at the thought Kuric postulated At last I'll be there to step in when time comes and I can tell the little hobbit that I warned him.

Outside, Kuric trudged through the street quickly making it to the front of the group, subconsciously aware that this would again assert his leadership role. Suddenly there arose a clamor and some small lad claiming that a horse had gone missing.

"I told ye, didn't I! Only a troll would take a horse on, but yer all too daft to believe me." Kuric announced. "Lad, how long ago did the horse go missin'?"

[Durelin]

Glad that they were going to have a change of setting, which would hopefully result in a better atmosphere within the group, but not looking forward to seeing his father, Parkun was torn. His pace was quick, though, as he believed very much in getting things over with. As Farmer Mugwort slowed while speaking with one of the other Hobbits -- Madoc something, he believed -- the young man pulled ahead of him, and soon found himself joined by the Dwarf.

Parkun glanced at Kuric quickly, hoping to not catch the Dwarf's eye, and resisted the urge to look behind him to see if Master Mugwort noticed him. Anything that went on between those two was bound to be interesting since Kuric's odd outburst regarding the leadership. Instead the strawberry-blonde's ears were drawn behind him as he heard a young voice shout about how a horse had gone missing. Then Leanora, the only woman in the group -- why there was any woman at all Parkun would wonder for some time -- explained. Ah, so it's Orin, he thought, still feeling too conscientious to turn around and look.

"I told ye, didn't I!" came a sudden outburst from Kuric. His booming voice made Parkun start, and consequently the young man's face reddened as he hoped beyond hope no one had noticed.

"Only a troll would take a horse on," the Dwarf continued, "but yer all too daft to believe me. Lad, how long ago did the horse go missin'?"

Parkun felt anger flare up inside him at the word "daft". Maybe the others could be called that -- he would concede that -- but that Dwarf was included in 'the others', and Kun was not.

And Kun didn't care when the horse went missing.

"Do trolls bother stealing horses before eating them, Master Kuric?" he asked, ignoring the Dwarf's own question but doing his best to keep any sarcasm out of his voice. He tried to sound almost interested, but he wasn't about to put on too much of a show for the crazy old fool.

[mormegil]

"Do trolls bother stealing horses before eating them, Master Kuric?" stated the young man called Parkun.

Kuric was glad and knew that his plans were coming to fruition for finally here was somebody that showed him the proper respect.

"Aye lad, that they would." Kuric said gravely nodding toward Parkun in agreement, "Trolls are dumb, it is true, but they know enough ta take the creatures out of the area." Raising the tone and authority in his voice he decalred, "Now, if ye'll all just listen ta me we'll get this sorted out quick enough to get home fer dinner tonight."

Beginning to march down the line the defenders had formed Kuric stated "Let's quickly grab some ale and be off." Kuric's glee was barely contained at this statement. Patting his mace almost lovingly Kuric thought, It's been too long my friend but soon, soon. With that though Kuric's mouth formed a toothy smile and he was momentarily lost in thought.

[Firefoot]

"Quite alright. This seems important," Toby responded to Leanora as Kuric started ranting on about trolls again behind him. Suppressing his rising annoyance at the dwarf for a moment, he turned instead to the boy Orin who had run up. "Your neighbor's horse, you say? Hmm... And you came as soon as you heard?"

Orin nodded breathlessly, but added, "But it happened last night." Toby nodded, frowning to himself. A horse... that was a big animal, and likely to make a fuss - unlike his own docile, if rather dim-witted, sheep. "I don't suppose anyone saw what happened?"

"Nope. Just turned up missing," Orin reported.

Toby sighed. "Thank you, lad. And have your pa keep me posted if any other evidence appears."

"Yes, sir!"

Toby returned his attention to the rest of the Defenders just in time to hear Kuric declare: "Now, if ye'll all just listen ta me we'll get this sorted out quick enough to get home fer dinner tonight." And then, the nerve of him! He began to head off toward the inn, clearly expecting the others to follow. "Let's quickly grab some ale and be off."

"And I suppose, Master Dwarf," said Toby sharply, "that you know precisely where we'll all 'be off' to? That you know this land better than any of us who have lived here our whole lives? That you know where trolls would hide - assuming that it is actually trolls, who are rather large and by all accounts none too smart and would have a rather difficult time not to be spotted?"

[Farael]

It seemed that, finally, common sense had prevailed and the “Defenders of Bree” were off to the Inn to grab a bite and look at some maps. Or was it common sense? As much as he was delighted by the prospect of food (and the unavoidable smoking of pipeweed afterwards) he was still concerned by the possibility of an indigestion. It would certainly not do, to face a hungry monster on an upset stomach.

The group was making their way to the Inn at a rather quick pace. It seemed that either Robby was not the only hungry one, or that all of them wanted to find themselves somewhere more private, where they could plan and plot as much as they needed.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a lad ran up to the group and after some talk with Leanora and Ash –it seemed they were relatives of some sort. Probably siblings or cousins, as men do not note their relations as carefully (and excellently) as hobbits do- he informed the group that his neighbour’s horse had gone missing without a trace.

" Just turned up missing," the lad had said.

“How do you “turn up” missing? When you don’t turn up, that’s when you know you are missing!” asked the hobbit, showing what he believed a prime example of hobbit sense.

Farmer Mugwort, either not hearing or choosing to ignore his question, asked some questions of his own at the dwarf. It seemed he agreed with the Dwarf’s idea, or pretended to, that a troll was behind all this trouble. Yet Robby could see that the farmer was not quite impressed by Kuric’s antics. Hoping to calm the situation he interceded.

“Now, now Farmer Mugwort, Master Kuric… while haste is clearly of utmost importance, there is little point in arguing about what to do here on the streets. While it might be a Troll, we do not know that for sure, and if perhaps this… thing we are after is more cunning than one of those giants they may have spies, even in this Bree of ours. Let us not be too hasty.”

[Finduilas]

Noticing that Leanora left his side, Ash looked around him. He uttered a small groan when he saw his younger brother Orin, talking to Lea, and Lea apparently restraining him by his shoulder. He turned and walked up to them and asked, “What are you doing, Orin? Why are you here?” He didn’t wait for Orin to answer, but turned to Leanora and told her they should probably catch up with the group. She agreed, and let go of Orin, who amediately sprinted off towards the group, calling for Mugwort. He and Lea ran after him, hoping he wouldn’t offend anyone before they could intercede and explain.

The news that Orin had brought Mugwort was disturbing. A horse missing. From what Ash knew, that was the largest animal yet to have been stolen.

Yet again, the dwarf tried to assume leadership. Ash was almost more worried about the Defenders than about what they were defending against. If they couldn’t agree in simple conversation, would they ever be able to work together when they started getting solid facts?

Ash felt like rolling his eyes when Robby, a hobbit, pointed out an erroneous statement of Orin’s. When the poor little fellow is repeating an important message, you don’t need to pick on him for his language skills. But one look at Orin told Ash that he wasn’t a poor fellow, and didn’t need any help. Robby didn’t wait for his question to be answered, but turned to the dwarf and Mugwort, and tried to make peace. Ash had to put his hand over Orin’s mouth to keep him from talking back to the hobbit.

[Firefoot]

While Toby was a little annoyed by Robby’s tone and the way he spoke as if Toby was also convinced the threat was trolls – which he decidedly was not, he recognized the sense in what the younger hobbit said.

“Of course you are right,” said Toby bowing slightly before the dwarf could put in a word of retort. “We won’t be able to accomplish anything out here in the middle of the road.” He raised his voice, addressing the whole company. “We’ve heard the message now, so let’s get on to the inn.” And he led the short distance down the road.

Toby didn’t understand why the dwarf was so insistent about becoming the leader of the Defenders. Without any knowledge whatsoever about any of them, he seemed to have dismissed all of them, and particularly him, as remarkably inept and incapable. I’ll show him – he started to think, then realized that he had nothing to prove to this dwarf, this outsider. The dwarf should have to be the one to prove himself! After all, what did any of them know about him? Only that he had happened to come to the village about the same time as these strange happenings began! All Toby knew was that he was becoming less and less inclined to give the dwarf the benefit of the doubt with every word he spoke.

With these thoughts in mind he approached the door to the Prancing Pony and the whole troupe filed in afterwards. He greeted the innkeeper, an old friend, cheerfully enough for his stormy mood: “Good day to you! We’ve several bodies here in search of an ale or a meal, and I’m going to have to ask whether we might make use of your maps of Breeland.”

“Certainly, Toby. I’ll have those right out for you, and Rowlie will see that you’re all properly fed,” he said, with Rowlie referring to the serving hobbit.

“Thanks,” answered Toby, and went over to join the Defenders who had gathered around one of the largest tables. The maps were brought out in short order, as were the ales, and Toby spread the map out across the table. “Now, what we need to figure out is where this beast might be hiding during the day. Some of you know the area pretty well; any ideas?”

[Durelin]

When they arrived at his father’s inn, Parkun dropped toward the back of the partying, so he would be one of the last to enter. He hoped that if his father was busy dealing with the others he might overlook his son. But the strawberry-blonde had little luck.

Master Felderth gave his boy a grin when he saw him enter, at which Kun dropped his eyes. And after the innkeeper had gotten the maps for Farmer Mugwort, he gave the young man’s hair a good ruffle before leaving the party be.

Parkun stared down at the table, mortified and seething with anger. He felt his face heat up and wished he could hide it, and so he did all he could and avoided eye contact with anyone. Even when Master Mugwort spoke he did not look up and did not really listen as he was too absorbed in his own embarrassment, his anger towards his father, and wondering why he was here.

I had best get more than a few pats on the head out of this, he thought. And there was no way he was splitting any of the glory or the reward with his friends, which was why they had no idea where he was at the moment. Luckily this was nothing really new.

It was a gamble and perhaps a waste of time to be a part of this little group, and it certainly meant a good bit of embarrassment for him, but still…even the embarrassment was worth it if his older brother heard and saw how his father was praising him. But if any of it was to be worth it, things still had to go well, so there was no sense in him just sitting there.

“There are a lot of woods around here,” Parkun spoke up rather quietly, only half hoping his father heard him, “and I know some of them alright, myself.” That was a bit of an exaggeration – he had played in the woods and ventured into some deeper parts of them on dares, but he could hardly navigate through any of them. “There aren’t just beasts who live in them, either,” he added off-handedly, though the statement was meant to be mysterious.

[Dimturiel]

It felt strange to Erling to be sitting at the table in the inn and be talking about dangerous creatures of the wild, talking and not only hearing about them from a report of things that had already happened, distant and therefore safe. It gave him an unpleasant feeling to speak about dangerous and unfamiliar things in that familiar and until then secure spot. Until then it seemed to him that he had looked on the world without Bree as from a safe and impenetrable wall, yet now it seemed that the wall had crumbled and he-or better said, they, the people of that comfortable little town where nothing happened-were left exposed and unprotected to face the perils of that unfriendly world.

Erling inspected the map with interest. Particularly long he looked at the many green patches that lay around Bree. Once, he had lost himself in one of those woods. A strange sensation had taken hold of him then as if…as if there was something there, something unfriendly, wicked even. But he said nothing to the others about that. He was a small lad when that had happened, and very fanciful too, it was likely enough to have been only his imagination playing tricks on him.

“There aren’t just beasts who live in them, either.” Parkun said then, and Erling found himself wanting to ask “How do you know?” However, instead of doing that, he found himself nodding in agreement.

“It seems so.” he said. “And I was just wandering about something. Why do these creatures leave never as much as a footprint? Master Kuric says it’s a troll, but, well, I have heard trolls are not too clever, would they bother to hide their footprints? And could ordinary beasts do that? Who knows what has crept into our forests.”

“But how can you be so sure it comes from the forest?” he found himself thinking, and he shuddered. “Perhaps it comes from your own safe town.” But no, thought Erling, energetically waving his head to drive such dark visions from his mind, it could not be. He did not even know how such a terrifying thought could have come to him. It could not be.

[Forest Elf]

Grimbeorn sat there, off to the side of the table. He looked up at the map's, part of his scar showing, though, he was unaware of that. He ran his finger over the area and then sat down, deep in thought. He didn't become a ranger for nothing. He sighed, he wasn't exactly familiar with this area, and he wouldn't know much about the landscape except for what the maps showed him.

Then a new thought came to mind. "Where have these creatures attacked?" Grimbeorn asked. "Perhaps there could be some sort of pattern? It wouldn't be unheard of...there have been series of attacks that do come in patterns."

[Thinlómien]

No one seemed to answer Grimbeorn. The foreigner looked a bit lost and if wondering whether anyone had heard his question.

Leanora turned to him. "I don't know much", she said and smiled, her eyes skimming the map, "but the latest attack was somewhere around here." She pointed the place where her family and their neighbours lived. Then she frowned. "The mare must have gone missing from the pasture, but... it's a good animal and valuable property. There aren't a lot of horses here in Bree. Old Maple - the farmer, that is - usually keeps an eye on her. I wonder when did she manage to disappear..." Lea realized that she was rambling and stopped, even though the foreigner was nodding politely.

"Um.. Maybe others can tell you more. I would be interested in hearing that too. I mean, hearing things once again might help." Only then did she notice the scar on the young man's face. "What happened to your face?" Before he could reply, she added hastily: "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Meanwhile, Orin used his sister's conversation with the stranger to his own advantage and without anyone noticing, he slipped in and under the table.

[mormegil]

Mutterings and curses were all that was escaping Kuric's mouth for the moment. So infuriated he was that he refused to help anymore. "Simpletons", he curtly muttered but nobody heard him, "what do they know about hunting in the wild. Only one looks like he has much sense here and he's not even from here either." With that he let out an exasperated sigh and muttered "Hobbits, every time I give 'em a chance to prove themselves ta me, the end up letting me down."

Kuric was aware of the many stares that were coming his way due to him talking to himself but such things never bothered him. Fortunately for Kuric and the others, little if any of what he was saying could be heard as it tended to be rather rude and offensive to Bree and it's inhabitants.

"I'll have to show them in the end why I volunteered, ruddy peasants they are; don't know a warrior and leader when they see one." He coldly spat.

This would go on for quite some time only broken up by his taking long draughts of the ale presented him. He no longer cared for what was being planned, he needed no such plans, "Just show me what to kill" was his motto now.

[Forest Elf]

"I don't know much", she said and smiled, her eyes skimming the map, "but the latest attack was somewhere around here." She pointed the place where her family and their neighbors lived. Then she frowned. "The mare must have gone missing from the pasture, but... it's a good animal and valuable property. There aren't a lot of horses here in Bree. Old Maple - the farmer, that is - usually keeps an eye on her. I wonder when did she manage to disappear..."

Grimbeorn looked at the place where she pointed on the map. I wonder why it would have gone after a horse? That is...if it went after the horse...then how much longer will it be before it starts going after beings other than animals? he thought to himself.

"Um.. Maybe others can tell you more. I would be interested in hearing that too. I mean, hearing things once again might help. What happened to your face? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Grimbeorn looked at her. He had hoped to keep it hidden, but, in seeing that the question had been asked, there was no use hiding it now. "No, I don't mind," he said with a small smile. He raised his head so that it was fully visible. "I got it awhile ago, back when I was tracking a few orcs roaming about. I attacked and, if it weren't for an old friend of mine...my injuries would have killed me." He didn't like talking about his injuries, well, scars much...he felt as though it were bragging in a way.

[Dunwen]

Sam felt decidedly out of place as he listened both to the dwarf’s unhappy mutterings and to Grimbeorn’s casual explanation of his scar. Of the two, he was more impressed with the Man. At least the Big Person was trying to find out exactly what had happened. And he looked like somebody who could face down a pack of Orcs.

‘What am I doing here,’ he wondered to himself, feeling helpless. ‘I’m a smith, not a hero.’ But he thought of Farmer Maple's horse. She had been a dainty, sweet-tempered creature. Sam had shoed her not three months ago. He'd volunteered for this; he'd better try to contribute something useful. Grimbeorn talked of finding a pattern in the attacks. Sam thought this idea quite sensible. With an effort, he spoke up on his own.

“I think Mr. Grimbeorn is right,” he said loudly, surprising himself at how calm he sounded. “And Miss Leanora,” he added hastily, not wanting to be rude. “Maybe we should take a take a look at where the attacks happened and see if we can learn anything. I mean, something big enough to kill a cow or a horse should leave some kind of a trail, shouldn’t it? Whatever this is, it attacked my dad’s farm twice a few days ago. Got a cow and a cat."

[Firefoot]

"And my own farm is here," Toby mused, pointing to the map, "And here is my neighbor's, who has lost a goat." He was beginning to see a pattern in the killings; most seemed to be occurring to the north of Bree, within easy distance of "Chetwood," he muttered, then said it louder: "Yes, it does not seem unlikely that this menace is making its lair in the Chetwood."

There were some nods and murmurs of assent at this, but Toby also thought he could feel a note of fear. Parts of the Chetwood were as dense and tangled as he imagined any place could be; few Breelanders went there, and even fewer were familiar with the place.

"Nobody said that this would involve traipsing off to unknown parts!" objected one - Eric.

"Well," reasoned Toby, "I don't see how we can put an end to the threat if we don't go off and find it." He observed the trapped look in Eric's face. He added, "You are not bound to go with us."

"It's just - my mother and sisters - they have no one else..."

"I understand; you may go now, and no one will think the less of you," said Toby kindly.

He could see Eric's fear battling with his pride; fear seemed to win. Eric explained, "I never really intended to join anyway; the mayor just seemed to take my input as volunteering." And with that, he got up and left with his head bowed in shame.

Trying to put the awkward situation behind them, Toby said, "As for the rest of us, it is too late today to set off, and none of us are prepared. We should go tomorrow morning, I think; we can meet here at the Inn."

[Finduilas]

Toby pointed out that many of the killing had taken place near Chetwood. That was an area that he knew reasonably well. He was about to offer this information, but decided that since it had been several years since he had actively explored the region, he should wait to see how well he still knew it. Also the conversation had already shifted slightly.

"You are not bound to go with us," Toby said, addressing Eric who had said something while Ash was still thinking. Ash quickly gathered that Eric wasn't looking forward to this search, espcially since the wild area of Chetwood had been meantioned.

Ash felt sorry for Eric, but didn't blame him in the least. The fellow was right when he continued to say that he hadn't really volunteered.

Once Eric left, Toby suggested that they start tomorrow morning, meeting at the inn. Ash thought that it might be dangerous to wait another night, but wasn't sure how to suggest it.

"Sir," he began, slowly, " don't you think we should accomplish something tonight? I mean, isn't it kind of dangerous to just wait, even for one night?"

[Dimturiel]

Erling agreed with Ash. The young boy was right, they had to start doing something, and the sooner they did, the better for everyone. None knew what the creatures could be up to, and delay was very likely to prove fatal. Yet so was setting out without a clear plan, without even the faintest notion of what they were against. And that was what they would be doing then.

Erling knew the area near Chetwood slightly. His group of friends would frequently set up challanges, and going to Chetwood had been one of them. So Erling had been there a few times. But not many enough- he thought- for him to be feeling as well prepared for what was in store for him as he wanted to.

Erling looked at the now diminished group of defenders with slight apprehension. He wondered if they would be able to sort this out in a few days, and if they would all get out of their troubles safe and sound. Perhaps he should have left, as Eric had done. But no, he thouhgt, shaking his head. That would not be right. Instead, he too turned to Toby, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Indeed, Master Mugwort," he said, "Shouldn't we try to do something tonight?"

[Firefoot]

Toby was rather surprised by these responses, although perhaps he should not have been. It seemed that he had simply been listening to the wrong (and noisiest) people who had wanted to "get out of here in time for dinner" - like that Dwarf. Toby felt a momentary flash of irritation at himself for allowing himself to be so influenced.

"I suppose you're right," he allowed, nodding to the two who had spoken. He paused, not exactly sure how to proceed; he didn't know what they were up against any more than the rest of them; how were they supposed to fight it, then? "Well," he said slowly, thinking aloud. "We can't exactly go traipsing off into the wilderness just yet, but that's just as well, I suppose; maybe we ought not to put all our eggs in the same basket, so to speak. We might be wise to spend our time looking a little closer to home."

"You don't think... that some person could have done this?" someone asked.

"I don't know what to think," Toby retorted, "and if that was the case, I should feel awfully foolish tramping clear off to Chetwood and leaving the possibility unexplored. And we do have some time yet today."

[Dunwen]

Dismayed at the departure of his old friend, Sam stopped listening to the conversation of the others for a few moments. He didn’t blame Eric; not one bit. He was needed more at home, taking care of his mother and sisters. Nevertheless, Sam felt bereft. The two of them tramping through the Breeland would have been a bit like old times despite this unknown danger.

When Sam returned his attention to others, he found they were discussing the idea of looking around the Chetwood versus making inquiries in Bree itself. Someone asked about the idea of a person doing all that damage. Sam was shocked at the idea of such cruelty to defenseless animals. He was more inclined to believe that some creature from Outside was attacking the livestock; in a way, that was less frightening than thinking that one of the Bree-folk might be responsible.

“Why would somebody hurt their neighbors’ livestock? That doesn’t make sense,” he said aloud. “It’s likely hiding in the Chetwood. I vote to start there, but we should bring a few days’ vittles with us, and some blankets in case we have to track it a ways. Maybe we can gather our supplies this afternoon and start out first thing tomorrow morning.” Turning to Farmer Mugwort, he added nervously, “I’ll go along with whatever you think is best, but that’s my two pennies worth.”

[Durelin]

As Parkun watched Eric walk out of the inn, not daring to look back, a single thought ran through his head: You could just leave, too, you know. You can back out now. His father would make his life filled with a little more annoyance even than usual, but... No, he had plans, anyway. He would put an end to this...

Parkun was rather amused when someone finally voiced a thought that he assumed must have crossed most of their minds. There had been all this talk of creatures who did not have the brains to go unseen, even leaving no clues, much less would kill seemingly at random, out of amusement rather than simply necessity... Did anyone really think that something living in Chetwood would be capable of baffling them so, causing them so much fear?

Kun's question was answered when one of the Hobbits, Sam, spoke up against the idea. His naive reasoning made the young man want to laugh. It seemed that Sam thought all people were the soft-hearted, neighborly, good natured sort like the slow-witted shepherds just outside of Bree. Parkun responded immediately, holding back a derisive snort with difficulty.

"Can you really say that? None of us know what a person is really up to, regardless of how they seem. And you have to admit some people around here seem pretty off. I mean, everyone seems to have a different story about Old Jak, and most seem to feel he's still around..." He cast his eyes about the table, expecting a reaction at least from all of the native Breelanders. "So maybe Chetwood is our best bet, if not to waste our time looking for animal tracks we don't know for sure are there."

[mormegil]

Sitting around listening to the seemingly endless debate about nothing, in his mind, Kuric grew increasing agitated and irritated with this lot he had found himself with. Then, out of nowhere there was a deserter. As Kuric watched Eric leave, he shook his head in disgust and with narrowed eyes, venomously hissed "coward".

He could scarcely take it much longer and grew weary with the increasing delays. "Why won't this rag tag lot of 'defenders' make some sorta decision? I suppose there are a few more cowards in the bunch that are lookin fer a way out," Kuric though to himself. Kuric looked around determined to assess who would be the next yellow bellies to leave the defenders.

"Volunteer to look good, is all there doing and then when danger looks at them they put their tail between their legs and run."

"Bah!" He spat.

Finally some younger man began to speak of a man named Jak. Too many names confused Kuric as most men all looked the same to him and the same for hobbits. He never could quite tell the difference in their appearance. But this Jak fellow was not known to him so he decided to question the young man a bit.

Shooting a quick glance to Parkun Kuric asked, "Who is this Jak fellow ya speak of lad? Is he friends with orcs and trolls and the sort? Why do we be worryin about him any?"

[Durelin]

The Dwarf seemed the most restless of anyone, but in a different way from everyone else. There wasn’t an edge of nervousness to him: he purely seemed to desire action, and discussion obviously wasn’t quite his forte. He had been quiet for some time, except for a few grunts, and so Parkun had nearly forgotten he was there. But apparently this topic interested Kuric: perhaps the old warrior was perking up because he thought they were close to the kill.

“There have been stories about Old Jak for years, and people like to talk about sightings. He’s a man of sorts, a strange one, who lives like a wild beast in the forest. Or so it’s said. I’ve heard some interesting things about him…things about him eating raw meat and even still skulking about the town sometimes, watching people.”

He paused again, casting his eyes about to see several faces who knew precisely what he was talking about, but who still found themselves wanting to look over their shoulders. Parkun kept his expression and tone somber, though he made it seem like he was trying to speak more lightly and optimistically when he continued.

“Well, they are just stories…”

[Thinlómien]

"Oh, they are", Leanora continued before the dwarf could answer to the innkeeper's son. "But as we are talking weird villagers... I mean possible 'suspects' inside Bree... What about Owyn, Owyn the Nightowl?" The others' expressions varied from irritated to slightly fearful. She turned to the dwarf: "He never leaves his home, expect at night. And everybody knows that he then goes away. To the woods, some say."

Leanora took a breath. She felt stupid reciting all this village gossip. Nevertheless, she went on: "Everybody knows he hates other people. It is also said that he has some sort of... interest in violence." Lea hoped they would not take her as a frightened little girl. She needed them to take her seriously, even though she was among the youngest of them and a woman. "And", she said, lowering her voice a bit, "you can see he's not a true breelander, but from somewhere outside." She shot an apologetic glance at Grimbeorn and Kuric. "I'm not saying that is bad, necessarily, but..." she added hastily and then made a pause. She took a sip from her pint. "Sometimes I wonder why does he live here", she said, her voice thoughtful.

[Dunwen]

Sam happened to be right next to the old dwarf and heard his mutterings about cowards and folk running away from danger. Clearly Kuric was referring to Eric. He was on the verge of giving the fellow a piece of his mind when the girl said that old Jak was just a story. He immediately turned his attention to her.

Self-consciously clearing his throat, he said hesitantly, “Begging your pardon, Miss Leanora, but Jak might not be just a gaffer’s tale. Once or twice a year when we were boys, Eric and I would slip off to the Chetwood for a couple of days. Most of the time we'd do our hunting and come back home. But there were a few times when we thought we heard somebody chanting-like, pretty far away. It always happened at night. We never could find out who it was. We did find Man tracks one time, and a fresh squirrel skin without any arrow mark, but that's all."

Nervously the young smith took a sip of own mug of brown ale, hoping to take some comfort in the slightly bitter liquid as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. He looked down at the scratched surface of the wooden table, expecting that the others found his words foolish. But he knew what he and his friend had seen and heard.

[Finduilas]

“What an absurd idea,” thought Ash, when someone mentioned it might be a Breelander who had killed the animals. But when Parkun brought up Jak, and Leanora mentioned Owyn, it no longer seemed like an impossibility. Others apparently agreed, since Sam spoke up, telling of a time when a friend and himself had heard some strange things in the forest. Leanora repeated a few of the well-known tales of Owyn.

“Do we even know if Jak is around? I’ve heard that he hasn’t been seen for about 10 years. Of course, that could mean he is anywhere. But how on earth are you expecting to find out about these people? Owyn is so rarely seen anyway, I don’t think it would be likely that we would see any of him if he were at all connected to this thing.”

[Thinlómien]

"Hey ho, in moonlight they were seen, both Old Jak and the Nightowl Owyn, dancing around a ritual stone, blood in their hands and evil to the bone." A weird hymn echoed from somewhere below.

The voice was low and somewhat unearthly. "Now what was that?" Sam asked. Some people looked slightly uneasy. That voice had, indeed, been quite disturbing. Leanora, however, thought there had been something too familiar in the voice. She glanced at Ash and tried to see if the same thing had occured to him, or was she just imagining things...

[Finduilas]

As soon as Ash heard the chanting from below he froze. He caught Lea’s look and nodded quickly. His arm darted below the table and caught the first available part of Orin that he came across. Up the boy came, fuming and hauled by his collar.

“I’m just trying to hurry you up!” he said indignantly. “I expected as defenders you’d do a little more action and less talking. I can’t even have the fun of you fighting over it!”

Ash set Orin firmly down in the chair next to him. He could feel himself turning red as he thought of what the other defenders must being thinking of himself and his brother. There was definitely going to be trouble once he got Orin home, he promised himself.

[Dimturiel]

For a long time, Erling stood silent, content only to listen to what the others were saying. He was aware that he could add little contribution to the talk, as the information he had about Jak and Owyn came from the general gossip of the Breelanders, entertaining, maybe, but perhaps also a little unreliable. And he still found it hard to believe-or to accept- that a human being could have done all those things. No, it was surely impossible. And that was not only because his feelings shuddered at the thought. There was another reason, an idea that had been bothering him ever since Jak and Owyn had been brought into discussion.

He was just about to voice his thoughts aloud to the others when a strange voice was heard from somewhere below chanting some words. His own words froze on his lips. But he had no time to act as Ash produced from under the table his little brother Owyn. So that had been the cause of the diversion, he thought relieved and amused.

“Perhaps the lad is right.” Erling said to the others. “We should hurry up with some decision. Yet there is also the fact that we might take the wrong decision and what then…? I am thinking mostly of what you said about Jak and Owyn. Well, they have been in Bree a long time, haven’t they? But these...these…well, these strange happenings, they are recent. I am thinking that if they were really to blame they would have started sooner. And also, these things do not live footprints. Well, I’ve heard many a terrifying thing about Jak and Owyn, but no one has ever told me you cannot see their footprints.”

[Durelin]

Parkun sneered at the child who was dragged out from under the table, absolutely mortified and so enraged by the fact that the boy's prank had caused goose bumps to ripple across his arms. And though he was sick of sitting here and enduring not only the company of the others but also their conversation of sorts, he was not sure he was happy about the idea of rushing a decision. As Erling made Kun realize, some people were just too trusting.

"Jack and Owyn may leave footprints like any other men," Parkun said in a little above a mutter, feeling like they were going in circles, "but at least it makes sense for a person to be clearing up their tracks."

Master Mugwort soon agreed as well that they should come to a decision soon, and did his best to summarize what people's ideas seemed to be.

"It seems to me," the Hobbit began, "that most of us are agreed that whatever -- or whoever," he added, "could very well be living in Chetwood, as that is still in some regard a wild and unknown place, if not as dark as it once ways, in darker days. But there also seems good reason to me to investigate here in Bree before we go anywhere, to get some of the stories straight that I'm sure we've heard in pieces and from various sources. And perhaps to look into the possibility of a suspect here in town."

[mormegil]

Kuric sat calmly listening to the various stories about Jak and Owyn, realizing that more than likely they are the scary stories that are typical in small communities where 'strange' folk aren't trusted. "Why" he thought, "I've been that stranger more than once and I've been accused of more than I've ever done."

Kuric readily dismissed the stories with an exasperated sigh and sunk back into his chair with a great deal of agitation. As it seemed that these so called defenders were only capable of defending their chair from somebody else taking it, Kuric began to question the reason why he joined this motley band in the first place.

While in the midst of his own thoughts he sat up with a jolt at hearing a voice from below chant:

""Hey ho, in moonlight they were seen, both Old Jak and the Nightowl Owyn, dancing around a ritual stone, blood in their hands and evil to the bone."

All too quickly it was revealed to be the younger sibling of on the other defenders. Kuric openly chuckled at this occurrence and sympathized with the lad.

"Aye" Kuric said speaking to himself, "a little more action and less talkin would be good lad." Kuric was glad for the distraction but then it seemed the endless debate would continue until Parkun stated that it might be best to get moving.

Kuric, seeing a window of opportunity, gave the suggestion, "Perhaps we would be best off splittin inta groups and speakin to those and looking around town a bit, it would be helpful to get into the wild too. I think 2 or 3 groups might be enough fer our needs"

[Firefoot]

"Two groups, I think," said Toby, "to check around town this afternoon. We can meet back here in a couple hours, and be home for dinner. A trek into the wild might best be saved for tomorrow, as the gathering of supplies and all would probably take more time than we have if we were going to make any progress out there today. I also think that those of you with families would want to let them know before you go traipsing off like that, yes?

"Now, try to split yourselves up evenly, and we can decide who'll cover what areas from there - if no one has any problems with that?"

[Dunwen]

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief that Farmer Mugwort had decided to step in and apply a little common sense to the discussion, Sam loosely cupped his near-empty tankard in his hands and stared at it while he pondered. He still doubted that one of the Bree-folk was behind the attacks, but clearly several of the others did.

'We don't need any more stories, we need to see what really happened,' he thought. The young hobbit frowned in concentration as he tried to recall some of the talk swapped by customers at the smithy over the last weeks. One name jumped into his mind all of a sudden and he looked around at the others and cleared his throat.

"Edin Cengal might be a good one to talk to," he began uncertainly. "He lives in Bree, but he farms outside of town, and his place was hit twice. He comes to the forge every once in awhile to get something mended, and he seems like a sensible sort. The thing is, I'm no more than a nodding acquiantace. I'm willing to go talk to him, but if anybody here is a friend of his, it might be better if one of them asked him about what happened."

His blue eyed glance rested on the face of each of the others hopefully.

[mormegil]

After speaking to the group, Kuric began gathering his few things, excited about the prospect of finally leaving and going hunting. Upon hearing Toby proclaim that nobody would be going into the wild, Kuric sat back down with exasperation and annoyance. He sighed loudly but Toby was getting the attention now.

Shaking his head with disbelief he began to speak until Sam spoke first. Kuric slumped further in his seat awaiting another discourse wondering if this would ever end.

Looking around at the group, Kuric was more certain than ever that he was the only one who cared to go out and make some kills. After Sam spoke Kuric made one final appeal, "Actions, not words are what we be needin'. Bah, some defenders we've turned out ta be!" Kuric proclaimed with a mirthless laugh.

Pounding his fist forcefully on the table he stood up. Glaring at Sam he said, "I'm going with you lad, I'll show ya how we'll figure this one out." Kuric was hoping that if the two could make it out alone with one other perhaps he could convince them to go out in the wild, he figured that Toby couldn't be in his group so in an attempt to maneuver that he looked at Toby and declared, "Why don't you take the others as they'll need yer leadership." With that Kuric grabbed his pack and readied himself waiting for a reply he dug his fat finger into his ear cleaning out some of the accumulated grime.

[Finduilas]

Ash was greatly relieved when no one seemed put out by Orin's performance. But he still needed to talk to him. Ash looked over at Leanora and signaled her to follow, as he retreated to a corner dragging Orin along.

“So Lea, what are we going to do with him? It might be dark before he gets home, and these days it isn't safe for a child to be alone at dark. We might have to take him with us for today, and return him home tomorrow. I hope father doesn't get worried about you,” he said, turning to Orin, who was still sputtering about being called a child.

“Oh, that's no problem. He said I could stay at Derin's house tonight, so he wont be expecting me back till late tomorrow,” Orin replied, as if well satisfied with his brilliancy.

Ash rolled his eyes then turned to Lea to hear what she thought.

[Thinlómien]

"Is there truly no other way? I guess you don't want to skip some of this and take him home...?"

She did not say it seriously, she knew Ash would not agree. She did not need to turn her head to see Ash shaking his head. She knew he would be doing it. Sometimes it was good to know someone that well.

"Alright, Orin, now listen to me", Leanora said, "you may come with us tonight - if Mr Toby has nothing against it. But don't rejoice yet! You will not do anything stupid. Nothing like that stupid song of yours. Otherwise we make sure Dad will know about every single silly thing you've done today, or any day before today."

"And we'll never take you with us to town or to a forest trip again", Ash added.
"And I'll tell Chessie she can't give bring you sweets anymore", Lea said, "Agreed?"

Grudgingly, Orin nodded.

"I guess that's the best we can do with him", Lea sighed.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin had been traveling all day at a rapid pace. He was anxious to get to Bree before the Sun had set, but know it appeared as if it was to late, the Sun had long since set in the west and the darkness covered all of the land.

Gorin quickened his pace up the slanted hill, still hoping to reach the town before the gates were closed. He was so tired that he didn't see the small bramble hedge that he was heading into. In an instant his feet were tangled in the thorny strands; he tried to yank his foot out, but all it did was cause him to lose his balance. Gorin stumbled about trying to gain his balance, instead he fell rolling down the small hill which he was climbing.

He came to a stop at the bottom, his pack rolling down beside him. He stood up cursing himself for not seeing the hedge; even now the brambles clung to his legs, almost as if some invisible hand had tied them to him.

He stopped for a moment listening to the silence that surrounded him. Finally, he rose to his feet, knowing that it was hopeless; the town's gates were probably already closed. He placed his pack up against a tree, removed his battle axe from his belt, and began to settle down.

One more night in the darkness, one more night sleeping in the cold air, but by tomorrow he would be in Bree. It was the only comforting thought he had all day. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sounds of the night, and was asleep.

[Dunwen]

That dratted dwarf just stood there, pack in hand, waiting for for Sam to take him to Master Cengal's. The hobbit couldn't belive the fellow's utter foolishness. He was so dumbfounded at Kuric's arrogance that he didn't notice Leanora and Ash conferring about their brother.

Sam fought an urge to pound his head against something hard, like the Prancing Pony's wood-panelled wall. He could imagine Master Cengal's reaction to the dwarf. Kuric's high-handedness would get no more response from the finnicky old man but a door slammed right in their faces.

Finally he found his voice. "And without seeing anything on Cengal's land, just how do you plan to figure this one out, master dwarf? What questions do you think you'll ask him?" He continued with uncharacteristic forcefulness. "What we actually need is someone patient enough to look around the places where the attacks took place and find out what clues were left and hack everything to pieces." He glared back at Kuric. "I think it would be helpful to have at least one more Breelander with us when we talk to Master Cengal."

[Dimturiel]

Erling had sighed with relief when he realised the group would soon set out, even if that meant only looking around town for now. Even that was a start, and he hoped there would be no more uncertain talk or rash remarks to delay them. He wanted to leave, he wanted to think they were actually doing something, not merely sitting and talking while that thing was at large.

Hearing Sam suggesting Edin Cengal as a source of information, he could not help nodding in agreement. Edin was a friend of his father, and Erling had heard many things about him. He knew that Master Cengal was said to have sharp eyes and to observe things most of the Breelanders ignored. Yet he also knew that Edin was quite proud, and he was sure the sight of Kuric-and most of all, of his attitude-would not please him much, or maybe it would even make him feel too suspicious to say anything. Therefore, when Sam suggested they should have another Breelander accompanying him and Kuric to Cengal, he did not hesitate to volunteer.

“I wish to go with you,” he announced, getting up. “You see, master Cengal knows me slightly, and I think I could persuade him to be open to us.”

With that he got up and headed for the door. There he stopped and looked from Kuric to Sam, a questioning expression in his eyes:

“We are going now, right?” he asked, on a slightly uncertain tone.

[mormegil]

Kuric snapped his fingers, pretending to think a bit. “Edin, right I know that lad. Good bet he’ll have some useful information fer us,” Kuric stated with a quick chuckle. “Let’s get going then, you two and without waiting for any rebuttle from the other defenders, Kuric quickly grabbed Sam by his left arm and looked up to Erling, quickly speaking as he began heading for the door, “well, let’s get going lad, no more wastin time here. The others’ll be checking the other placer fer us now.” With that Kuric made for the door, with Sam walking shortly behind him and Erling following.

It was nearly dusk as the hit the streets of Bree and there was a cool breeze blowing against the dwarves grizzled features. “Won’t be long now,” he muttered thinking of the excitement to come. By now Kuric had convinced himself, that indeed it was a troll or some other creature of their like he would find in the wild. With that thought he began to trot through the streets of Bree, ignoring the protests coming from his companions.

Despite being a dwarf, Kuric loved not the closed dark quarters offered by a cave, but rather the open cool darkness of a night in the wild; for Kuric it had been far too long since he was last in the wild. Sensing that his companions were lagging a bit as they approach the gate Kuric sharply turned around and barked out his displeasure at their delay, “Ya better get movin you two, we’re nearly there.”

Arriving at the gate, the keeper greeted Kuric with some dismay at the rushed approach of such a dwarf. “What can I be helping you with Master dwarf?” was the question issued to Kuric. “You can open that gate fer us now. We’ve got a bit of business from the mayor of Bree to take care of so ya best get movin fer us.,” Kuric curtly replied. Kuric began advancing on the gate not letting the gate keeper reply. The gate keeper, obviously surprised by the dwarf’s manners, but not wanting to interfere with mayoral business quickly opened the gate. Without so much as a glance backward, Kuric roared with glee and began to run down the road into the oncoming darkness.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin was suddenly awakened a loud rustling and pounding of feet. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his axe. He looked around trying to find the cause of the noise. A scream broke silence of the night. Gorin looked up hill, which he had tried to climb a couple hours ago, as something that looked like a boulder rolled down at him.

Gorin grabbed his pack and tried to run, but the object slammed into him, knocking him down. Gorin fell to the ground, landing squarely on his back. He groined, rubbing his head as he lifted himself up. Much to his surprise as he started to move so did the boulder. In fact it wasn’t a boulder at all, if was another dwarf!

The two stared at each other dumb founded. Finally the other dwarf seemed to come to his senses and began to pull a huge mace from his back, as Gorin took his axe and shield in hand.

As the two stood there, ready for battle, the stillness of the night was broken yet again by three loud cries; they were calling for someone someone named Kuric. Gorin watched as a tall figure appeared on the hilltop and descended towards them, followed by a man who's stature reminded Gorin of a child.

[Dimturiel]

Erling felt more than angered by Kuric’s behaviour. Why didn’t the confounded dwarf just let them go to Edin and gather some information? It was risky to walk so blindly into the wild without knowing more. If something happened to them-and this was more than likely-it would all be Kuric’s fault. Actually, Erling thought grimly, it would be his own fault too as his protests to Kuric had been only verbal. Why didn’t he just try to overcome the dwarf and then they could have all could have made for Edin instead? He mused darkly that his constant desire to avoid conflicts, as well as his respect and admiration for travellers would one day bring his undoing.

When they were finally out of Bree, Erling stopped to get his breath back. Kuric had led them at a great pace.

“We shouldn’t be here, you know.” he said. “Not when the others know nothing of this. There’s only three of us, what if we are attacked? The others have no notion of where we are, how will they help us?”

He turned to face Kuric but he saw no sign of the dwarf. He looked around, puzzled.

“Where did he go?” he asked Sam. “ I begin to suspect him after such reckless behaviour. Well, I guess there is nothing for it but to follow him. Come on.”

And with that, he started running, shouting Kuric’s name with Sam behind him. After a while they suddenly found what they sought. Actually, it was fair to say that they found more than that. For instead of only one dwarf, they saw two, facing each other ready for battle. For a moment Erling stared dumbfounded at the unexpected apparition. Then, he drew his knife and went at Kuric’s side.

“Who are you?” he asked the other dwarf sharply. “What business brings you near our village at night?”

[Thinlómien]

After a little more arguing the matter was finally settled. Leanora didn't still cherish the idea of Orin coming with them and Ash didn't seemed to be pleased by it either. So, in the end, only the youngest of the Winkle children was pleased when they finished their little debate.

"Hey, where did all the folks go? That grumpy dwarf and those two others?" Orin asked, seemingly displeased by the fact that he had been disincluded of some adventure. Before either of his elder siblings could rebuke him, Toby replied his question politely: "They went to the woods to meet Edin Cengal."

"They did?" Lea asked, somehwat stupidly.
"You mean Kuric, Sam and Erling?" Ash blurted out at the same time.
The twins glanced at each other.
"Master Toby," Leanora said, "this dwarf has little knowledge of the surroundings of Bree. If I've understood correctly, neither Sam Tunnelly nor Erling Headstrong know the woodsparticularly well either, so..."
"...we think it would be best if we followed them," Ash finished smoothly, "It's no fun getting lost in the woods at night, especially if there's some unknown... thing around."

"You might be right", Master Mugwort agreed, "you'll be taking your brother with you, right?"
Both Ash and Lea nodded.

Grimbeorn, who had been following the discussion in silence, rose up. "I think I'd best come with you", he said in a quiet voice.
Ash and Lea glanced at each other.
"You're most welcome", Lea said with a small smile, "but let's go then, otherwise we won't be able to find them anymore and then we are going to get lost."

The four hurried out of the Inn, into the night. Lea could hear Orin whisper to his big brother: "Ash, wouldn't it be really exciting to get lost?"

[Finduilas]

“Oh excellent,” thought Ash, “They went traipsing off into the wild, with that pushy dwarf!” What ever Sam and Erling might know of the surrounding area, he would lead them which ever way he thought best.

“Ash, wouldn’t it be really exciting to get lost?” Orin whispered.

Ash looked down at Orin and smiled. Now that he was outside again, moving, doing something, he was less angry at Orin, and he remembered how he would have been had he been left out of such an adventure.

“Not really. Not these days,” he said, referring to the unknown thing. But he gave Orin a wink, so that he wouldn’t catch the worrisome fear that had most of Bree in its grip.

They hurried out of the gate, asking the gatekeeper if he had seen a dwarf, a man, and a hobbit, and getting an affirmative, went faster, even though it had grown quite dark. Soon, they heard raised voices ahead of them in the darkness.

[Dunwen]

With his short legs, Sam quickly fell behind Erling. It took him a few minutes of running to crest the hilltop Kuric and then the Man had disappeared over. Pausing to catch his breath he saw his two companions confronting a sturdy figure holding a shield and an axe.

“Wonderful,” Sam muttered. “Kuric’s got himself in a fight already.” He sighed and hurried down the hill. He wouldn’t be much good fighting with swords or axes, but if someone could disarm the stranger, he should be able to wrestle him to the ground. After sizing up their opponent, his sour humor increased. Another dwarf! He was getting his fill of them.

Although Sam’s dislike of him was growing by the minute, Kuric had offered to help the Breelanders. For all Sam knew, this strange dwarf was behind the attacks. Taking a spread-legged stance next to Erling, he gazed up at the dwarf.

"I thought I heard my friend ask your name and business," he said evenly. "We've been having trouble with something or someone killing off livestock round about, so we don't trust outsiders much right now. It'd be a good idea to give us an answer."

[Groin Redbeard]

The two figures came running down the hill, the taller one reaching the other dwarf’s side faster the smaller figure. He spoke sharply, asking who he was and what his business was. Just then the smaller figure came running down the hill after the taller figure.
“I thought I heard my friend ask your name and business,” he said evenly. “We've been having trouble with something or someone killing off livestock round about, so we don't trust outsiders much right now. It'd be a good idea to give us an answer.”

Gorin could see that he was a hobbit, and a feisty one at that. Probably these people were justices of the peace in Bree. Although how they got such an odd arrangement of sheriffs was beyond his knowing.

He had been in some tough scrapes and this one was no different, but as much as he wanted to fight, Gorin knew that it was best to keep his cool. He put the axe back into his belt and left the shield fall to the ground.

“I bid you no harm.” He said, “I am Gorin Redbrow, the wilderness is my home. I have come from the far north to rest in your village and gather supplies before I head back north.

“Tell me, what is this trouble you’ve been having with your livestock?” Gorin paused and stroked his beard. “Perhaps I could be of some help.”

[mormegil]

Kuric, with mace tightly in hand, began surverying this strange new dwarf. Naturally, he had a strong distrust for anybody that found in the wild during these times. Despite this, there was a natural affinity he held for dwarves. Accordingly, he found himself wanting, longing even, to trust him.

The dwarf spoke up and said, “I bid you no harm. I am Gorin Redbrow, the wilderness is my home. I have come from the far north to rest in your village and gather supplies before I head back north. Tell me, what is this trouble you’ve been having with your livestock? Perhaps I could be of some help.”

The name didn't sound familiar to him but he sounded like an honest dwarf and one that loved the wild. This struck a cord in the deep and oft unused heart of Kuric. Unwittingly he found himself letting down his guard a bit.

In a supringly pleasant and friendly tone Kuric began, “From the North did ya say, which clan do ye hail from lad? I've passed the north recently enough, I don't seem to recall seein yer clan or even hearin of them fer that matter. Of course, I didn't meet many kinsmen up in those parts, to be sure, but..." Kuric cut off abruptly, realizing that he had become too friendly with a stranger who could be dangerous despite being a kinsman.

"Now, lad, you listen here, what business do ya have here in these parts." Kuric stated gruffly lifting his mace slightly from the relaxed position it had been in. "We've had livestock go a missin lately without much of a trace, and then you show up looking fer supplies. Tell me are you killin these townsmen livestock?"

Kuric planted his feet firmly, looking at his compatriots knowing that they would approve of his actions and then he turned his glare to Gorin impatiently awaiting his response.

[Finduilas]

"That must be them," Ash whispered to his companions. He turned towards the voices, and the other followed his example. He quickly was able to hear that there was a strange voice answering the other members of their group.

“I bid you no harm. I am Gorin Redbrow, the wilderness is my home. I have come from the far north to rest in your village and gather supplies before I head back north. Tell me, what is this trouble you’ve been having with your livestock? Perhaps I could be of some help.”

Both the voice and the name sounded more dwarvish then otherwise, and Ash gave an annoyed shake of his head. However, he realised he was being unjust, and decided he would do his best to be as civil to this new dwarf as he would have been in any normal situation.

Kuric replied to the strange dwarf amiably.

“From the North did ya say, which clan do ye hail from lad? I've passed the north recently enough, I don't seem to recall seein yer clan or even hearin of them fer that matter. Of course, I didn't meet many kinsmen up in those parts, to be sure, but..."

At this point he seemed to remember himself, and brought himself up sharp with, "Now, lad, you listen here, what business do ya have here in these parts. We've had livestock go a missin lately without much of a trace, and then you show up looking fer supplies. Tell me, are you killin these townsmen livestock?"

Ash signaled to his group to be quiet; he wanted to hear the dwarfs answer before interrupting. He knew that Lea and Orin could walk silently, and by the looks of Grimbeorn, he could too.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin stroked his beard thoughtfully as he watched the dwarf in front of him begin to relax. The other dwarf even sounded pleasant when he responded.

“From the North did ya say,” the unknown dwarf responded, “Which clan do ye hail from lad? I've passed the north recently enough, I don't seem to recall seein yer clan or even hearin of them fer that matter. Of course, I didn't meet many kinsmen up in those parts, to be sure, but..."

The other dwarf seemed to choke on his own words and quickly changed his attitude towards Gorin.

"Now, lad, you listen here, what business do ya have here in these parts?” The other dwarf continued, "We've had livestock go a missin lately without much of a trace, and then you show up looking fer supplies. Tell me are you killin these townsmen livestock?"

Gorin responded in his usually gruff manner.

“Strangers,” Gorin said, “I have not done any harm to your livestock. I have been busy traveling all day, and have had very little time to do anything else, since I was in such a rush to get to Bree. And even if I was doing what you say, would I tell you?”

Gorin regretted those words the instant they left his mouth. Even though he knew himself to be innocent he was suddenly the solution to all their problems; all they had to do was arrest him and lock him up.
‘That’s great Gorin!’ he thought to himself, ‘Always letting your mouth get you into trouble.’
Gorin thought quickly of what to say next, he had make these people believe that he was innocent.

“This certainly sounds like a very perplexing problem that you’re dealing with.” He glanced at the hobbit, who hadn’t relaxed a bit since he came.

“Perhaps I could lend you a hand in this matter.” Gorin smiled broadly, thinking of the excitement that would soon await him. “I am a good tracker, not as good as those rangers mind you, but I am still capable of tracking any four legged beast whether it be at night or day. And I’m not as talkative as you might think, so you’ll hear no unnecessary talk from me. What say you to my proposal?”

He picked up his shield and pack and placed them both on his back, as if assuming they had already accepted him.

“I just remembered Ya’ll know my name. Tell me, what might be yours?”

[Dimturiel]

Erling frowned at Gorin. He seemed much too friendly for his liking. Perhaps he was only springing a trap at them, wanting to make them feel at ease with him, maybe even take him inside Bree to fulfil his own dark purposes. Erling tried to tell himself that it was most unlikely for a dwarf to be behind the attacks but he could not help feeling suspicious. He nearly wanted to tell Gorin this, tell him that the last thing he would do would be to accept help from a stranger found wondering in the wild at night in such times. But he thought better and said nothing.

Perhaps, if Gorin really was behind these attacks or had something to do with them, it was better if he was kept under close watch. Then they had to pretend to accept his help. If he was with them, Erling would see that he did not let the dwarf out of his sight. And if Gorin was innocent, well, another helping hand was more than welcome.

“I think we will accept your help.” he told the dwarf. “For we really need all the help we can get. You asked for our names and these we will give. I am Erling and my companions are Kuric and…”

At that point Erling stopped abruptly. He looked at the land behind him but it was too dark for him to see much.

“I thought…” he began uncertainly. “I thought I heard something…But I am not sure now. Maybe it was just the wind…”

[Durelin]

Suddenly it seemed everyone was leaving the inn in various small groups, rather than the two even groups as planned. And as Lea had pointed out, somehow one of the groups consisted only of non-native Breelanders. Toby felt a complete failure at that moment, and he spent a moment or two sighing before he collected himself again, prepared to get down to business and get people organized again. At least those still at the inn.

But when he glanced around the dim, lonely common room, he found that the only person left beside himself was Parkun, the innkeeper’s boy. He looked as if he had dozed off, but as soon as Toby said his name the boy’s eyes were upon him. The hobbit went through faces and names for a moment before asking, “Which group did Madoc and Robby go with?”

“Their own groups, as far as I could tell,” Parkun replied blandly. “Madoc left when the first group made their exit, out the back, and Robby did the same just before Ash, Lea, and Grimbeorn did with their charge. Also out the back.”

Toby did some more sighing and running his hand through his hair before declaring with more confidence in his decision than he felt, “Well, if no one is quite sure where anyone but themselves are anymore, I seen more sense in trying to get the group back together than going with the original plan. There’s nothing left to do but meet up with the others at Master Cengal’s farm. We’ll have to assume they’ll find their way, or Ash and Lea will find them for us. And even if they don’t, someone needs to accomplish something this afternoon.”

“I know a shortcut,” Parkun said, rising from his seat. Toby gave him an inquisitive look, but nonetheless gestured to say that the boy could lead the way out the door.

[Dunwen]

Although this new dwarf lacked Kuric’s belligerence, Sam did not fully trust him. When Erling announced his intent to allow the stranger to join him, he opened his mouth in amazement, then shut it. He had taken Erling’s measure during their time at the Prancing Pony. The Man seemed like a stout fellow with a good head on his shoulders and the hobbit thought it best to present a united front to Groin. He would ask Erling about his decision later, far from either dwarf.

When Groin asked for their names, Erling cut himself off before introducing Sam, suddenly noticing the nearby noises, but unable to identify them. The hobbit, of course, had heard all the racket several moments ago.

“Sam Tunnelly,” he nodded to the stranger, “journeyman smith.”

He turned to Erling. The Man still looked around uncertainly, as if he feared an ambush. “It wasn’t the wind. There are three Men and a child blundering about behind us. Ash is one of them.” He stated the facts in a clear, sure voice.

The two dwarves and the Man looked at him skeptically. Sam shrugged at their obvious disbelief. “I am a hobbit,” he reminded them.

[mormegil]

Kuric, unwilling to share the hobbit's certainty, drew his weapon and postured himself for battle. He eyed the hillside eagerly awaiting what would come. Glancing over at his fellow dwarf he felt comforted and knew that their common dwarven heritage would bind these two closer than any of the other companions.

"Best draw yer own weapon lad," he whispered to Gorin. "I've got a feelin we're in fer a fight"

Prefering a straight attack rather than a sneak attack on his opponent, Kuric began to walk towards the sounds with marked caution, but without fear.

"COME OUT WITH YA THEIVES AND MURDERERS, LET'S HAVE AT IT!" Kuric growled at his presumed agressors.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin watched as the three companions studied him from head to toe. The dwarf that he had run into did not look at him threateningly at all; it would be easy to gain his trust, even though he looked an entire lifetime older than himself.

The man amongst them was the first to speak, accepting Gorin’s offer to help them. The man identified himself as being called Erling, and introduced the dwarf beside him as Kuric; however, he failed to mention the hobbit’s name. Erling stopped in mid speech and looked behind himself.

“I thought…” Erling began uncertainly. “I thought I heard something…But I am not sure now. Maybe it was just the wind…”

Gorin had not heard any noise, but the wind did carry a strange smell that the dwarf’s noise picked up. He put his hand on his axe stepped forward to join ranks with his new found comrades.

The hobbit, unlike the rest, was at perfect ease paying no head to Erling’s warning.

“Sam Tunnelly,” he nodded to the stranger, “journeyman smith.”

The hobbit then turned to Erling and told him that three men and a child were behind the noise that Erling heard. Gorin smiled at the hobbits naivety, more likely as not whoever were behind those bushes were the culprits to the livestock killings.

“I am a hobbit,” Sam said confidently. But Gorin paid no head to Sam’s words, and let his mind run wild with the images of the fight that would soon commence. Kuric gave confirmation to Gorin’s thoughts, telling him to draw his weapon, which he did taking his place beside the old dwarf.

"COME OUT WITH YA THEIVES AND MURDERERS, LET'S HAVE AT IT!" Kuric growled at his presumed aggressors. A smile crept across Gorin’s face, but was soon turned into a frown, as four figures came out from behind of bushes and walked up to the as if they were friends.

Gorin, once again, put his axe back into his belt, knowing that there would be no fight. He backed off to let the others talk to the new group. He looked at the kid, who was holding one of the men’s hands; Gorin smiled trying to look friendly, but probably looked more fearsome when he did so.

[Thinlómien]

"COME OUT WITH YA THIEVES AND MURDERERS, LET'S HAVE AT IT!"

"Thieves and murderes?" Lea whispered, "Is he talking to us?"
"I think he is," Ash said with a wry smile, "Let's go."

Orin was very pale and Ash took his hand. "It's just Kuric," he said, but the boy didn't look convinced.

Carefully the three, followed by the ever so silent Grimbeorn, stepped out of the shadows. "It is just us, no panic", Leanora called quietly.

Sam and Erling were there, as well as Kuric and another dwarf. While Sam and Erling's faces were filled with relief when the newcomers came to their plain sight, both the dwarves looked rather aggressive. Orin forgot to be embarrassed of expressing such childishness and clasped his brother's hand tighter. "It's alright," both Lea and Ash whispered to him at the very same moment.

"Ya ought to be more careful, younglings! We could have slaughtered ye right there, thinking you thieves and murderers," Kuric growled, seemingly far more concerned about his pride than the young humans' safety.

The other dwarf was wearing a rather terrifying grin on his face. Forcing a pleasant smile on her face, Lea took a step closer. "And who are you, good sir? A friend of good Kuric, aren't you?"

[Dunwen]

Sam watched in disbelief as Kuric drew his sword and shouted about "thieves and murderers" as Erling looked on. While dwarves and other uncivilized folk might not realize how sharp hobbit ears were, the Man was Bree-born and should know better.

Sure enough, Ash and Miss Lea and their little brother nervously stepped forward, followed by Grimbeorn. Sam looked at the foreign Man thankfully. Although he would have preferred someone with a little hobbit-sense, Grimbeorn at least didn’t speak before he thought, unlike a certain dwarf Sam could name.

And sure enough, that particular dwarf spouted some nonsense about almost slaughtering the Winkles. The lad, Orin, looked downright terrified, although his older brother and sister remained calm enough.

Sam’s easy-going nature usually prevented him from losing his temper, but this last outburst of Kuric’s was the outside of enough. When Lea politely (and bravely) greeted the newcomer, he cleared his throat, getting their attention.

“This fellow gives his name as Gorin Redbrow,“ he told her before the red-haired dwarf could draw breath for a reply, “and as far as I can tell he and Kuric have never set eyes on each other before. He made an offer to help us, which Erling agreed to while you lot were crashing down the hill in the dark.”

He continued, “I did say there was naught to fear, since I heard Ash’s voice clear as anything, but I guess that dwaves haven’t learned how well hobbits hear.” He glared at both dwarves impartially as he finished speaking.

[Groin Redbeard]

Well, Sam was right. They had made downright fools of themselves, mistaking friend for foe. Although it was an honest mistake the two dwarves pride had been hurt.

Gorin’s smile had presently disappeared, now that the child he had been staring at no longer paid any attention to him, and instead clutched the hand of a young man clad only in grey.

Gorin had stepped back as the four new figures came into view. He had not said a word, but one of the figures came up to him.

By the sound of the persons voice Gorin had perceived that this was no boy, but rather a girl! Gorin stood stupefied for a second, but than regained his surely poster and grim attitude. He had never like women very much, mostly because he hated how they made him feel insecure and embarrassed at even the slightest things. All the seclusion in the wild north had made him accustomed to his own company and did not mind the company of his own kind, but this was another matter entirely.

The hobbit Sam replied on Gorin’s behalf, this slightly anode him, but he didn’t utter a word. However, he was enraged at the hobbit’s insult against Kuric, and would have been at him in a second if he hadn’t restrained himself. He shrugged the remark off.

“What the young hobbit says is true. I have only just met your friends, but unlike them you are a girl, are you not? Your guise deceived me for a second, but your voice betrays you.” Gorin faced the group as a whole, wishing to end the subject of his remarks.

“Well then, where will we be head’n now?”

[Thinlómien]

“What the young hobbit says is true. I have only just met your friends, but unlike them you are a girl, are you not? Your guise deceived me for a second, but your voice betrays you.”

Even in the dark Lea could tell that Ash was grinning. She gave him a slight push while not being able to remain completely serious herself. "Guise? Master Gorin, I have not disguised myself. I'm one of the Defenders of Bree and my name is Leanora Winkle." She paused.

"This is my brother Aragorn Winkle", she prsented him, hoping that he was not grinning sillily anymore, "and this our little brother Orin." Ash greeted the dwarf politely while Orin muttered a surly 'hello'. Grimbeorn presented himself as well.

After a silence the dwarf continued: "Well then, where will we be head’n now?"

"To Edin Cengal's place", Erling replied. "Come", he said, looking at all the others, "I'll show the way."

Some stalking quietly as cats, some less so, the party moved through the silent woods.

[Dimturiel]

Once the group was finally reunited-some of them, at least, for not all the Defenders were there- Erling offered to take them to Edin’s farm. At first he had wondered whether that was safe to be done, as the farmer had a very suspicious nature, which surely had increased due to the happenings in Bree. He only hoped he would not set his dogs on them.

Erling walked quickly and confidently. He knew the way quite well. He also was worried and wanted to be away from the dark night as soon as possible. Of course, they were all on the alert for any unusual sounds and there had been nothing so far, but what if something would spring on them, approaching them so silently and stealthily that even those with the keenest hearing would perceive it only too late? But fortunately, nothing like this happened, and presently they reached Edin Cengal’s farm. In front of it, Erling stopped and turned to the others.

“Now listen to me,” he began, looking mostly at Kuric and Gorin. “Master Cengal can be quite unfriendly at times and dislikes it when people trespass on his lands. He also has ferocious dogs. So, unless you do not want them to chase you till you reach the Great Sea, please let me do the talking and say nothing that might upset him. He knows and trusts me, and I will be able to persuade him to trust you also. But please do nothing rash. Do you understand me?”

He hoped very much that their nods meant they had and that they were not going to make matters difficult for him. No sooner had Erling touched the gate that two great dogs appeared, barking madly and trying to jump over the fence to reach the intruders.

“Master Cengal!” Erling cried over the clamour of the dogs. “Master Cengal, can you hear me?”

For some time there came no answer to Erling’s calls and he wondered whether he should not call again, when the door opened and Edin Cengal appeared on the threshold. He held a lamp in one hand and a spade in the other and he looked menacing.

“Who are ye?” he growled. “Get ye gone or I’ll have my dogs chase you all over Middle-earth.”

“Master Cengal,” Erling began, trying to sound undaunted. “We are friends…”

“Friends, eh?” growled the farmer. “Friends at such an hour? Robbers, more likely! Get ye gone, I tell ye, or ye’ll live to regret it.”

“Mater Cengal, me you know.” Erling said then. “I am Erling Headstrong and these are my…my companions. We have been appointed the Defenders of Bree. Now, could you please let us in? It is not safe to hold parley in the night in times like this.”

[Groin Redbeard]

For the first few minutes of walking Gorin was digging into his pack and presently retrieved a stained and tattered, but still usable, hooded cloak, which he threw on his pack and pulled the hood tightly over his head. He was marching next to Kuric.

The brother and sister were up ahead with Erling along with Orin who despite his eagerness had to be helped along more than once by his siblings. Gorin had no bone to pick with with them, but bringing a child so young on a journey which could prove perilous seemed very foolish to him.

He observed the movements of each of the company, apparently some were more accustomed to the forest than others, but all of them seemed hardy folk. Lea seemed to move with considerable ease in her male clothes and gave Gorin the impression that she dressed in them regularly. That would certainly give an explanation to why she didn't think it strange to be wearing such things when he asked her about it.

Gorin could smell the scent of smoke and knew that they were drawing very near the house of this Edin Cengal and came upon it in no time at all. Erling stopped and faced the party but mainly stared at Gorin and Kuric. He gave each of them a warning of the Edin's behaviour towards strangers, and also of the ferocious dogs that he kept. A second later a snarling dog came up to the fence and attempted to jump it, but failed.

“Master Cengal!” Erling cried over the clamour of the dogs. “Master Cengal, can you hear me?”

In due time the man came out and for a minute Cengal and Erling shouted back at each other before finally the man exclaimed.

"My goodness it is you," he said to Erling in a crackling voice, "Come on in than can't stay out here shouting all night!"

Then he called off his dogs and went inside the house. Erling opened the latch on the gate and presently the line of travelers filed into the house and the door was shut behind them. Gorin stayed near the door and folded his hands across his chest, waiting for the Cengal or Erling to speak.

[Dimturiel]

Once they were all in, Cengal set to make his guests comfortable. He placed them in a room where a fire was burning brightly and served them some food and also some of his wine-“to warm you after coming from that cold dark place outside”, as he told them. While he was doing all this, Erling was telling him about the decision of the villagers to form a group of “Defenders”-the farmer noticed that Erling spoke the word on a very important tone and could not help grinning to himself at that-to try and get to the bottom of what was happening.

“That is all very wise.” Edin Cengal said when Erling had vanished, although he thought it far from wise that such a party had been accepted for the job. Why most of them were so young, and there was a girl also, and a small child and…and three foreigners! Were they fit to be entrusted with the safety of their own land? He did not think so. He would have thought twice before employing such a party to such a grave job. “And what have you done as Defenders?” he continued, trying to hide any traces of mockery from his voice.

Erling looked suddenly uncomfortable. He glanced at his companions, hoping one of them would speak in his head. But then he changed his mind and thought that, since Erling knew him, it was better if he talked.

“Well,” he began hesitantly. “Well, nothing, but…”

“Just as I thought” Cengal told himself. No good putting too much trust in such a party of youngsters and girls and dwarves! Yet aloud, he said:

“Well, that’s not too good, is it, Erling my lad? But what can I do for you brave Defenders?”

“Well,” Erling said. “You….you live here and I have heard you have suffered because of these creatures. We thought perhaps you could tell us some things. I have heard they attacked your flocks twice.”

“Not twice, my lad.” Cengal replied, shaking his head. “But three times actually. So you want me to tell you how it was…”

At this the farmer paused and went to the window to look outside. He stood long like that, staring at the darkness, although it was doubtless he was actually seeing anything.

[Dunwen]

As he nibbled on quite a tasty seed-cake, Sam hoped that the crusty old farmer would give the Defenders some idea of what they were up against. He heard the criticism in the fellow’s voice but didn’t let that rile him, knowing their host’s reputation for irritability.

He shifted slightly in his seat as Erling explained their mission, meeting the disapproval in the farmer‘s expression with his own steady blue gaze. After all, no one else in Bree had volunteered to go after whatever was attacking them!

He watched Edin walk over the window and look out for a long time. As the silence stretched, the young hobbit began to wonder just how dreadful these mysterious attackers were. Helping himself to another golden-brown cake to bolster his courage, he sipped his wine and waited for the farmer to continue his story.

[Groin Redbeard]

Groin stood by the door, enduring Cengal's ever disapproving gaze of him and Kuric. He drank the wine that was given to him in two large gulps, and placed the glass on a table, but knew that there was little chance of him getting a refill. He paid little attention to the farmer's talk about them and contented himself to staring out the window at the darkness, or stroking his beard. Erling had just asked Cengal about his encounters with the strange beast, or beasts, that were disturbing his flock when Gorin stood up in alarm. There were eight defenders when they set out with him but now there were seven, that silent fellow was missing.

"Where's Grimbeorn?" Gorin exclaimed in alarm, interrupting the farmer's talk.

Gorin didn't wait for an answer, the confusion on everyones face told him all that he needed to know. He flung the door open and ran outside. The dogs jumped to their feet and bared their teeth as Gorin approached the gate.

"Out of my way you runts or you'll soon feel the full force of my axe!" At this he directed his axe head at them and prodded them away from the gate.

Gorin ran as fast as his legs could carry him back along the path that the defenders had traveled, but he did not need to go far. About five minutes of stressful jogging brought him back to Grimbeorn; a huge dark wolf shaped shadow stood over a body that Gorin presumed to be Grimbeorn. Gorin quickly retrieved a throwing axe from his belt and threw it at the shadow, which was peering at him now with it's haunting green eyes. Gorin's aim proved true as the axe head dug into the wolf's flank, and with a yelp of pain and anger it leapt down at Gorin. The dwarf was unhindered and let out a deep roaring cry that echoed long in the night.

The huge wolf stopped stunned for a moment, and Gorin could see the full features of it for a second before the figure fled into the night at the approaching of more figures. Gorin ran up to Grimbeorn's body and backed away in disgust and anger. He took of the hood and cloak that he was wearing and covered the bloody mass of Grimbeorn's remains.

"So young," Gorin muttered, "Rest now Grimbeorn of Bree, your death shall not be in vain, nor will it be forgotten"

[Thinlómien]

Before Gorin had covered the body, Leanora had seen a glimpse of Grimbeorn's torn face in the moonlight. She turned her head, looked deep into the forest to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes.

She had always thought she was a tough girl, not one of those smalltown primadonnas or princesses that cried at everything and could not face any kind of difficulties. She had never been afraid of the dead or their bodies, as a child she had eagerly examined the dead animals she occassionally came by, and unlike all other members of her family, she had not found it difficult to look at her mother's dead face or touch her cold hand.

This was toatlly different. Her mother had died of a long illness, and although she had not been old, she had not been young either. Leanora had known that her mother would die and her passing had almost been a relief. But this young man's death had been totally unexpected and a brutal one. His comely face was torn and his body mutilated.

Lea had not known the young man well, she had only met him tonight. Still she was sick with terror and grief. She had liked the gentle handsome stranger, and she had to admit that had she had the chance to know him brtter, she might have been attracted to him.

Suddenly, she could not hold it anymore. She sank to her knees, sobbing quietly. She hoped Ash would be occupied with comforting Orin and no one else would even think about looking at her direction.

[mormegil]

Running as fast as his ancient body would allow, Kuric doggedly followed his new dwarven friend. He couldn’t keep up with the younger dwarf and came into the clearing in time to see the Warg fall. Great disappointment filled Kuric as he saw his opportunity for a good kill slip through his fingers. In frustration he kicked the nearest tree, muttering a curse under his breath.

Walking up to Gorin but still keeping on guard, knowing full well that Wargs are pack animals, Kuric looked at the corpse, seeing the face of Grimebeorn and hearing Groins parting words. Kuric thought it a shame to find him dead but also thought him foolish to come out here on his own. “Bah” spat Kuric, “the lad wasn’t ready to take on a goblin let alone a Warg.” Kuric circled the body oblivious to the crying lass nearby; he was too occupied with studying the nearby ground.

“I can’t make this out, but I reckon there’s more than one of these foul creatures. Didn’t I tell ya all along we’ve got a Warg on our hands.” Kuric puffed his chest proudly, not caring to remember he had stated that it was a troll, not a Warg. “Well let’s have two or three fetch Cengal, he can take care of his body. We need to go find the rest of these creatures before it’s too late,” Kuric stated patting his mace impatiently.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin half listened and half thought about the words that Kuric spoke. It was not in his nature to feel sorry for strangers, but the sobbing of Lea and the mournful look of the others made him have second guesses as to what they should do.

Kuric finished speaking and was patting his mace impatiently. Gorin waited for someone to speak, but none did.

"Aye," Gorin sighed, and then he seemed to regain the fire in his heart. "Aye, we have work to do. A wounded Warg is more deadly than a pack on 'em and it will do much harm if it goes unchecked. It cannot get far, now that it is hurt, we'll track in down and shoot it from afar if we can."

Gorin glanced at the at the company again and saw the small child clinging to Ash, his brother.

"No use sending the boy back without and escort to the farmer's house, we'll need every man we can get, just keep the boy in the rear." he said, glancing at Ash.

"My lady," Gorin said, stepping towards Lea, who was getting to her feet, "Do not dwell on this moment of grief, there is work to do ahead. There will be a time to grieve when this is all done.

"Come, the Warg went east. This way!" Gorin plunged into the woods and was swiftly followed by the rest.

[Dimturiel]

All that Erling could afterwards say was that everything had happened so quickly. He had never before thought that an event could come so fast, uheralded, unexpected. He did not know Grimbeorn-he had hardly exchanged a few words with him-but, as was his way with strangers, he had been fond of him. It was hard to believe that he had seen him die, yet it was also hard to pretend that the fact did not happen. It would ever be, from then on, and he somehow knew it.

Erling could very well see that the rest of his companions were also shoked. Well, not all. Kuric seemed quite unconcerned. But he did not mind that. He was glad there was someone like him nearby, someone to draw attention to practical thoughts that would make them forget what they had just seen. Well, maybe not forget, but at least postpone the time when they would have to think about it.

They were now on the move, tracing the wounded Warg. All of them, even Orin. It was a risk to take such a small child on such an adventure, but Erling agreed there was nothing else they could do. But one thing was troubling him. They were perhaps enough to tackle one Warg, but was it only one? Shouldn't they perhaps go back and ask for some help from Bree? But no, that would probably cost them too much time...

"I wonder," he began, and he realised his voice shook slightly-from fear or shock or grief, he could not tell, "Is it really only one of these creatures? Or are there perhaps more? Isn't there a chance for us to be outnumbered?"

As he spoke, he cast uneasy glances around him. He had always thought that knowing what exactly your enemy was made it less feared. He had praid for the time when he would know what was attacking Bree's peace, for he had thought he would be less terrified of them. But it was not true. The fear had not disappeared. It was still there. Strange, he thought. Few stories spoke of such a fear. Few had prepared him for the moment he was facing now.

[Thinlómien]

Luckily for him, the dwarf disappeared to the woods before Leanora recovered from her shock and started laughing, almost hysterically. The situation was so absurd. The nice stranger had been brutally slaughtered, they were all in danger and what was worst, they had Orin with them. And on the top of that, the dwarf had come and offered noble words and called her "my lady".

"Lea, are you alright?" a familiar voice asked softly from behind her.
"No, of course not. But don't worry about me," she replied, surprisingly calmly.
She turned to her other brother: "Orin, are you alright?"
"Yes," replied a small and shaken voice.

Suddenly, Lea turned and hugged both her brothers fiercely. "It's alright. We will solve this matter," she said.
"Of course we will", Ash said. Lea couldn't see it in the dark but she knew his face was far less confident than his words.
"Are we going on an adventure now?" Orin asked.
"Yes," Lea said at length, "but this is not playing. This is very dangerous. Orin, do as you're told and don't do anything stupid by your own. Otherwise..." She left the sentence hang in the air, both because she would not like to voice such threat on her little brother and because she was not sure if she woould have been able to finish the sentence without her voice breaking.

It was then when they heard Erling's words: "I wonder, is it really only one of these creatures? Or are there perhaps more? Isn't there a chance for us to be outnumbered?"

Lea and Ash both gripped Orin's shoulder instinctively. "Don't do that!" the lad hissed. Ash let go, Lea didn't.
She approved of Erling's practical manner. She was aware that the thought had had to be voiced.
But she didn't feel comfortable with planting such thoughts to Orin's head.
"He's as deep in this bog as we are," Ash said quietly, "we cannot shield him from it." Gritting her teeth, Lea nodded. Her twin was right once again.

She truned her gaze back to Erling. "I don't know if there are more than one of them," she found herself replying, "but I doubt it. If there had been more of them, there would surely have been more losses. You can't feed a pack of wargs with one sheep or one horse." She cut off her talk, fighting the impulse to add "or one human" to the list.

She had also deliberatedly kept to herself another thought that had popped to her mind. Wolves hunted in packs.

[Finduilas]

Ash was shocked by what had happened, but unlike Lea hadn't seen Grimbeorn's face. But telling by Lea's reaction, he didn't want to. He put Orin behind him, before going over to Lea to see how she was.

"Lea, are you alright?" He said, coming up behind her were she was kneeling.

"No, of course not. But don't worry about me," she replied, calmly. "Orin, are you alright?"

"Yes." The shakiness of Orin's voice didn't surprise Ash, but it was bad. He wouldn't be able to leave now.

Suddenly, Lea turned and hugged both her brothers fiercely. "It's alright. We will solve this matter," she said.

"Of course we will", Ash returned, putting every ounce of confidence he had left into those words.

"Are we going on an adventure now?" Orin asked, shocking Ash. Adventure? Was he still thinking of this as an adventure? As often happened, Lea spoke right before him, saying the essence of what he was going to say.

"Yes," Lea said, "but this is not playing. This is very dangerous. Orin, do as you're told and don't do anything stupid by your own. Otherwise..."

Her ending right there was horrible. Ash could feel the shake in her voice. If they hadn't been around so many strangers He would have given Lea a hug, but thought that if he did so, she would wish he hadn't.

Keeping Orin and Lea close to himself, Ash went after the dwarf, hoping to find the wargs, before they found them.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin moved through the darkness with a rapid pace. They had been moving for around an hour in pursuit of the warg. Erling's question at the beginning of their chase was one that he had already considered, and it was all too possible that Erling was right, but no sense in stirring up unnecessary fear; the company was scared enough as it is.

Gorin and the rest suddenly came into a small clearing of grass in the forest. Gorin was panting hard, and the others looked tired as well, even Kuric looked winded.

"Let us stop here for a moment," Gorin said between breaths, "The creature couldn't have gotten far with the wound that he has and we have gained on him since our departure." Gorin felt his knees beginning to give way, but he made an effort not to sit or slouch. His dwarfish pride would not permit it.

Gorin looked around at the others and could see that they were less scared now, even the young lass looked very resilient now, but the lad Orin was shaking. The dwarf tried to ignore the lad but soon it began to get on his nerves. He walked over to the lad, who was sitting between Ash and Lea, and unfastened the cloak that he had been wearing. Gorin tossed it at the boy with just a simple, "Here ya go."

His chainmail rattled as the wind picked up, and the clouds cleared offering some moonlight to shine its rays down upon them. Suddenly, a chill shot up the dwarf's spine, not because of the wind, but what was carried on the wind. A low howl that turned into a high pitched moan was heard close at hand, and in an instant everyone was on their feet.

"It is close at hand," Gorin said glancing at Kuric, "Come let us go on cautiously, the beast is tired and should have no energy left for flight.”

Gorin took one step forward towards the sound before he stopped dead in his tracks; more howling was heard from the north. Everyone stood dazed and confused for a moment, wondering if their minds were playing tricks with them. Gorin forced a smile at the Orin, who was trying to look brave.

“Nothing to fear, you hear the strangest things at night. Best not let your mind run away with you.” They began to move on now, this time with all their weapons unsheathed, but Gorin grabbed Erling’s arm and whispered for him to linger behind with him.

“I’ve heard that kind of howling before while I was in the wild,” Gorin said staring at Erling, both looking dead serious. “More of them are coming, and they sound hungry. They will be draw to the voice of their comrade, and that puts all of us at great risk. If the others have an ounce of brains in their head they will not believe what I told the Orin, but hopefully the boy will believe it.” Gorin looked around hesitantly, “Keep a sharp eye, lad, let’s not have any more deaths on our hand.” They slowly marched forward together and rejoined the group.

Gorin took his side by Kuric, and began speaking, in low voices; about he had just told Erling. There was no fear of anyone knowing what they were saying; they spoke in a tongue that only their kind knew.

[Dunwen]

Sam watched the two dwarves conferring while he caught his breath. He guessed what the red-headed dwarf probably told Erling. Although no more than a blacksmith, and not used to such goings on, he could see through a brick wall in time, as the saying went. Another chorus of howls rose and fell in the distance and his lips thinned. Surely he could hear through one as well.

Although revolted at the sight of Grimbeorn’s mangled corpse, a wave of relief had swept over him at the discovery of what really lay behind the attacks in Bree. While his heart pounded with fear at least he did not feel the horror of knowing one of their own assailed them.

He turned his head to see the shadowy shapes of the Winkles. They looked to be calmer now, especially Miss Leanora. But they would have their little brother to worry about. He loosened the leaf-shaped steel blade he’d forged only last year and reached over his shoulder to count the arrows in the quiver under his cloak. Making his silent way to the two dwarves and Erling, he spoke softly so the boy would not overhear.

“Not that it’s easy to tell over all the noise we’ve made, but I’d bet a gold piece the last calls were closer.” He straightened to his full four feet height and spoke quietly but firmly. “Now, tell us what these wargs don’t like before they get here. I don’t fancy ending up like Grimbeorn.”

[mormegil]

Hearing dwarven for the first time in decades brought a nostalgic feeling to Kuric he didn’t think possible. He deeply loved his dwarvish heritage and revered his language. It was a moving experience, one that, if the others could see into his dark deep-set eyes, they would have seen him slightly emotional. It was a sacred thing, in Kuric’s mind, to be speaking the language of Durin the Deathless.

Long had Kuric held the eldest of his race in high esteem. He remembered vividly being a young lad under the tutelage of his father being taught his history, heritage and responsibility as a dwarf. He swelled with such pride at the stories of their glory and former greatness. He had hoped to bring back their former grandeur, this was the cause of all his travel and labor, while he loved the road and adventure, he truly wanted to make his mark as a dwarf on Middle-earth. It had been a long time ago that he forgot why he left on his adventures initially. It all came crashing down on him at that moment. He knew that he had utterly depraved his once grand mission. The guilt almost overwhelmed him. He felt like he was sinking in despair, but then he heard, starting almost as a whisper from the depths of sorrow the guttural voice of his comrade and he was renewed.

Hope blossomed and for the first time in memory, Kuric felt he had a purpose. Looking down at his most prized possession, his mithral chain coat, he realized that the moment was now. When it was given to him he was told something of great import and Kuric felt it was prophetic. Never had he shared what was told him, but he knew the time had come.

“Lad,” Kuric said feeling great joy in speaking his native tongue, “I need ya ta do me a favor. These people are good people, but they ain’t a ready fer this kinda battle that awaits ‘em.” Kuric paced impatiently trying to explain and wondering if he should tell this relative stranger what he meant by what he would say next.

[Thinlómien]

The dwarves were talking in low voices, in some secret tongue. It irritated Lea that they did not care to share their plans with the others even in such a dire situation. She was just about to interrupt their talk with a pointy remark, when the howling came again, much closer this time.

"It is very close," Orin whispered, terrified.

Lea remembered Sam's words that had gone unheard a moment ago. She turned to the hobbit.

"Should we light a fire?" she asked in a fierce voice.

[Dimturiel]

Erling had had enough. He had had as much as he could bear of walking in the dark with those creatures howling from every direction. He could no longer stand the howls, the darkness, the tension, the fear of his companions that seemed to intensify his own terror. He could not really tell later how he had restrained himself from not simply abandoning all of them there and then and getting himself as fast as he could. But he knew he should not praise himself for that. Perhaps the only reason why he had stayed put was the fact that he still had enough wit to realise that by running blindly in the dark he might very well end up in a Warg’s mouth.

And all the while there was that great feeling of helplessness, of not really being in control of things that irritated Erling. He felt he was being born towards his end against his will-although, he was telling himself, he should have expected such an end when he had landed himself in this “defending” business. Well, he had not. He had thought things would go differently from the way they had turned up.

Suddenly, Erling knew what bothered him, when he heard the two Dwarves speaking in their own incomprehensible language. What were they about? Why could they not speak words the others could understand as well? Did they not trust them? Did they consider them mere helpless peasants, not to be trusted with grave matters? But this was their own grave matter. They had to know what was going on. For a while, Erling said nothing about this, but when he heard Orin’s terrified “They’re close”, he could stand it no longer. He turned to Gorin and Kuric.

“Look at this,” he began in one of his rare, but still great outbursts. “You two should stop your mutterings in your own tongue and tell us all what to expect. I know quite well what you think. You think we are not capable to face what’s coming, that we are only a foolish folk, useless in a fight, unable to cope in tight spots. You despise us, you deem us unworthy of your great plans. I do not deny that I know absolutely nothing about battle. I do not deny that I am scared. But I am ready to fight whatever is to come, yes, with my frightened wits and rusted weapon I am ready to withstand it and try my best to defeat it. We all are. So show us some trust and tell us what we should do…”

Erling paused, breathing deeply. The howls around them seemed to be getting near. He looked around him, his expression uneasy.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin was worried. The distant howling of the wolves had unsettled his companions. He had not talked to Kuric long before Sam, the hobbit, spoke his mind, but Gorin paid no attention to him at first; Kuric had not finished speaking. Kuric paused for a minute before attempting to say anything further, but he never got that chance.

"Should we light a fire?"
But as soon as she had finished speaking, and Gorin and Kuric stopped their discussion, then Erling gave a great outburst whose tenacity startled the dwarf.

“Look at this, you two should stop your mutterings in your own tongue and tell us all what to expect. I know quite well what you think. You think we are not capable to face what’s coming, that we are only a foolish folk, useless in a fight, unable to cope in tight spots. You despise us, you deem us unworthy of your great plans. I do not deny that I know absolutely nothing about battle. I do not deny that I am scared. But I am ready to fight whatever is to come, yes, with my frightened wits and rusted weapon I am ready to withstand it and try my best to defeat it. We all are. So show us some trust and tell us what we should do…” Fear and confusion was growing amongst them, and Gorin’s patience had been spent.

“Enough,” He cried allowed with outstretched arms, “I do not doubt your valor and courage young Erling, and no I do not despise you or anyone here. You have all shown great courage so far, but I will not be reprimanded by someone half my age, a mere boy compared to me!" Gorin stepped towards Erling in a threatening manner, but the young man did not flinch and grasped his weapon. The dwarf noticed his own weapon in his hand and half raised; it was then that Gorin realized that he was in the wrong. He let his arm drop to his side, and his shoulders sagged as he sighed.

“Come my good man,” Gorin said in a very passive and reluctant voice, “You call me untrustworthy and I call you a mere child, but we should both know better. I have brought you all into this predicament and I am sorry for that. Forgive my hasty words, Erling, there was no truth in them at all.” Erling didn’t respond in words, but the expression on the man’s face told Gorin all we need to know.

Another howl was heard in the night air, but this time it was directly ahead of them. Gorin spat and cursed at his negligence and foolish arguing, their prey was close at hand.

“Lea and Sam speak wisely,” he remarked, “We are blind not to have thought of it before. Kuric, could lend a hand and chop some suitable branches to be used as torches; I’ll start the fire in order to light them.”

Gorin reached back into his sack and retrieved a bag and box. He poured the contents in the sack out on the ground, shavings that he kept to lights fires in emergency, and started striking on some flint the he took from the box. In a matter of seconds a fire was started and was being fed with whatever things that they could gather.

“At least we’ll be able to rid ourselves of this nighttime chill in our bones.” He said rubbing his hands together vigorously.

[mormegil]

Kuric had made up his mind and he knew what he must do. Erling’s outburst made Kuric understand that these companions were afraid, but they pursued their fates anyway. It touched the old dwarf and that is what caused him to realize that he must do what he could to preserve these people. As Groin and Erling were loudly discussing what should be done Kuric took one look back and a with a deep breath and sigh he left the forest opening heading toward the sound of the warg, for he knew there were more than one.

Kuric trotted along doggedly as best he could in the direction of the sound. Weaving his way in and out of trees, he felt that at any moment a warg may jump out and attack. Instinctively he clutched his great mace preparing for any attack. Alright lad, he told himself, ya’ve been in battle a hundred times, this’ll be no different. He had never reassured himself before, but he felt something was different this time.

Finally, he was reached the point where he must stop running. Leaning over for a moment to catch his breath, Kuric heard sound that made the adrenaline course through his veins as he felt new vigor and strength. He yelled the ancient dwarven battle cry, "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" He rushed toward the source of the sound uncertain of his fate but knowing that he must do all he can to save that small group of Breelanders that were unprepared for such a battle.

[Durelin]

They had come out of nowhere, and Parkun and Toby had suddenly been surrounded by snarls and growls. These were no ordinary wolves. Though they resembled them, they were larger, and there was an intelligence in their eyes that Kun had not seen in any other animal. There were three of the great beasts, and they looked…hungry. They seemed to be grinning at their prey. Wargs…Kun had thought them beasts of legend, or at least creatures destroyed in the War.

Suddenly Kun heard an angry growl from behind and thought one of the Wargs was preparing to leap onto him and the hobbit, but instead, Kun saw two more wolves came bounding out of the trees as he whirled around. One had silvery fur throughout his coat, and it…it spoke to the others, and even Kun could make out the words.

“You had orders, fleabags,” it growled angrily, looking around at the three who surrounded Kun and Toby, “You were not to touch any of the two-legs, even the small ones.” The speaking warg gestured with his muzzle towards Toby. “Besides – you know I get first kill.” The beast’s eyes met Parkun’s. The thing really was smiling at him, and Kun sensed that it was preparing to move.

“Wait!” he yelled, and sought quickly to save his life. He had not volunteered to die. He was no sacrifice. No one and nothing was worth a sacrifice, much less held value equal to his own life. “There is a party looking for you. They are probably in the forest by now. I can lead them to you. I’ll tell them you have the hobbit. No, I’ll tell them he’s hurt, and bring them to him, but you’ll be there…hidden. An ambush.” He quickly counted in his head. “There are…there are at least six others, most much bigger than this hobbit. I can bring them to you.”

If they were busy with six meals besides Toby, he could escape, even if they did not let him go. They would not bother hunting him, bellies full, and when he had helped them after all. When he would be no threat to them. If he did not bring them back, they would hunt him down, and he knew he had no chance. They knew he knew that.

The wargs caught a whiff of the other humans, Hobbit, and…another scent, which Kun identified for them as Dwarf; and several began howling in anticipation. The plan was in motion, and Parkun was still alive…

~*~*~*~*~

Parkun rushed through the trees in the direction the wargs had sniffed out the others. He was not sure if they would eat Toby yet, or wait to enjoy him with the others, but he heard nothing but the howling for some time.

Suddenly there was a shout that rose above the howling, close to Kun, in a language he did not recognize, and then he felt himself crash into something too short to be a tree and too hard to be a bush. He was pushed backward, but before he fell, a heavy blow thudded against his chest. Kun landed hard on his rear, the wind twice knocked out of him and his chest pulsing with pain. He gasped for breath, and it felt as if his heart had stopped altogether for several moments. It had not stopped pounding in his ears since he had first heard the snarls of the wargs.

It was strangely quiet now in the forest, as Kun lay on the ground at the feet of Kuric with his mace, coughing and flailing in a panic to take a full, normal breath again. Perhaps the wargs really wouldn’t be the ones to kill him after all... Everything slowly faded...

~*~*~*~*~

Dûrkoth leapt at his approaching comrade with anger burning in his eyes, and clenched the other warg’s neck in his teeth, not gently. Blood covered Carchel’s maw and his front paws, and there was a gash in his left flank. “You fool! What have you done?” he growled. Those looking for them now knew exactly what they were looking for and where to look for them, and their pack was weakened by one wounded. Dûrkoth let out a howl to silence the four others and bring them to him. He would be making an example of Carchel, and they had work to do.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin had the fire going nicely and by now everyone was gathered around it to warm themselves. As Gorin sat comfortably on ground, his mind began to wonder from the present situation. The flames from the fire began to form shapes, in his mind, of great dwarven halls deep under the mountains. He could hear the smote of the hammer on the anvil, the plucking of harp strings, and the joyous laughter of dwarves feasting. The illusion was short lived, and Gorin awoke from his dream when Sam bumped him.

The dwarf’s mood was suddenly a sour one. Then he remembered why he had lit the fire in the first place.

"Where is Kuric with those torches? Probably asleep somewhere." he said turning around to see if the old dwarf was sleeping.

"Kuric?" he said in a raised voice, "Where has he got to?"

He walked to the border of the fires light to see if he could see or even hear the old dwarf; nothing.

"Kuric!" this time Gorin's voice was loud and clear.

Even though Gorin was worried, he just put it out of his mind telling himself that Kuric went to do his business and would be back soon, but this meant he had to chop torch wood. He was done in a short amount of time, and brought back four large bludgeons of wood. The ends were placed in the fire.

Gorin had seated himself back beside Sam and waited for Kuric to come back, but several minutes passed by before they heard it.

The nighttime stillness was broken by Kuric's deep dwarf yell, "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" Gorin jumped up from where he was sitting.

"He's in trouble! Quickly we must... Gah!" and he fell to the ground screaming. Gorin had not noticed in his hastiness that he had put his left boot in the middle of the fire when he jumped up. He fell to the ground sputtering and slapping at his boot with his hands. When his boot was extinguished he grabbed one of the torches from the fire and tried to run off after Kuric, but someone grabbed him.

"Let me go, I he needs us! Let me go lad!"

"Hush, Gorin," came Ash's voice, "Let's not get separated for a second time tonight. We are coming."

Although Ash was young he was incredibly strong, using one arm to grab the dwarf's shoulders and his other arm to stop Gorin from hitting him. However, Gorin calmed down before he could do any harm to Ash. With their weapons in one hand and blazing torches in the other the defenders started off, this time in search of a dwarf.

[mormegil]

In a moment Kuric would spring upon his enemies, this was his moment. He always felt most alive before the kill. With adrenaline pumping he steadied his mace waiting for that glorious moment of combat. Suddenly, he realized he had made a mistake when a creature came crashing in at his back near his flank. He turned abruptly and with all of his strength he swung his mace at his attacker. Ready to let out a victory yell, he suddenly realized mid-swing that his pursuer was not a warg, in fact it was human.

Instinctively, he pulled as much of the swing as he could. Fortunately he was able to angle to blow downward, away from the head. He hit the man's chest and abdomen with a glancing blow, certainly not enough to kill a man. "Good" he thought as he saw the man go down. "This might be our enemy too" He began approaching the figure cautiously when the man began to slump and looked up at him; that is when Kuric realzied that he had hit a fellow defender. Before Kuric could speak he saw the man, Parkun slump down splayed out on his back. "Lad, are ya alright," Kuric queried.

Going up and shaking Parkun roughly by the shoulder, Kuric attempted to wake his companion. "I wonder how ye found me lad," Kuric wondered as he shook.

[Durelin]

Parkun regained his senses after a few moments to find Kuric kneeling over him, shaking him roughly. Kun groaned and tried to sit up so the Dwarf would stop shaking him. He gave up, though, and decided to simply speak from on his back. Was he alright? Did he look alright? And he certainly wasn’t feeling any better with a Dwarf man-handling him! The young man groaned again, wallowing in his pain. Luckily he was feeling too weak to give Kuric even a nasty look. He needed to keep all of these “defenders” on good terms with him if they were to follow him deeper into the forest simply at his word.

“I’m…I’m alright… Don’t worry about me…” I sound so bloody ridiculous, he thought, but he knew this Dwarf and any of the others would eat his entire act up. All he had to do was seem afraid, distressed, worried…which he was. “It’s Toby…Toby we need to worry about. He’s hurt. A warg…it came out of nowhere…that’s what’s killing the livestock…we fought it off, but Toby’s hurt bad…”

Finally Kun did sit up, finding some strength as his plan began unfolding, and as he recalled the reason behind his mission. He was going to save his own skin. Of course, this crazy old Dwarf could have killed me before the Wargs had a chance!

“Where are the others?” he asked as he glanced around him. If he was stuck alone with this crazy Dwarf… Those beasts would not be satisfied with just one.

[Groin Redbeard]

His torch flashed and flickered as he swung back and forth, frantically looking for Kuric's tracks. The group was spread out in a long line with Lea and Ash, along with Orin, covered one area while Sam and Gorin covered another area; Erling was bringing up the rear. Gorin had guessed his Kuric's path up to now, but the path had gotten clearer to him now and Sam's keen eyes were soon to see Kuric's tracks.

Gorin's fear for the well being of Kuric soon began to turn into anger. He had no right to run off like this, he thought to himself, He'll get a piece of my mind when we catch up with him! Gorin looked back to see how closely Sam was following him, when suddenly noticed that the hobbit was standing stalk still a couple of yards back.

"What are you halting for," Gorin said impatiently, "Can't you curve your queer hobbitish ways for a little bit? We've got..."

"Shhh!" said Sam, frantically waving his hands up and down.

Gorin did as Sam said sighing and grunting; presently he heard it too, somebody was yelling for help close by. The hobbit disappeared into the brush, and Gorin started yelling at the others to come to him. Gorin followed Sam through the bushes and over tree stumps until they came to a man standing crying for help. The man had short blond hair (by dwarf standards) and was very skinny. Gorin did not know who he was and thought it strange to come upon a man alone in the wild. He stepped forward cautiously with his axe raised in readiness, suspecting that the man was a highwayman pretending to need help. The stranger immediately started yell and back away from Gorin as the dwarf walked towards him.

"Leave me alone," the stranger screamed, "Cut it out Kuric, don't hit again!"

"Kuric, he did this to you?" Gorin's face suddenly switched expressions, "Where is he?!" he said grabbing the man and shaking him violently, "Where is he, I'll teach him to run off like he did!"

"Easy with him, Gorin," Lea said running up beside Kun, "He's one of us!"

Gorin was surprised at what the girl said, had there been two groups that set out from Bree, and did he only meet with one? Before he had time to ask them this Kun spoke again.

"Wargs attacked us, but I fought them off, and Toby is hurt! Kuric's gone to get him."

Gorin stood up and through his axe into the ground. "That blasted Kuric!" he roared, his eyes blazing with fury," If I ever get him I'll... wait what did you say?" his mood suddenly changed as Kun's words of "Wargs" suddenly registered in his mind.

[Dimturiel]

They had all gone after Kuric as quickly as possible, Sam and Gorin leading. Erling was at the rear, a thing that made him uncomfortable. If the Wargs were only in front of them, then Erling had the best chance should an attack occur. But what if they were behind them also? From time to time, he would look behind him, dreading to catch sight of dark shadows ready to spring on him.


The company halted suddenly, and Erling-who was still gazing behind, although he could not see too much in the dark-nearly crashed into the person in front of him. He stopped just in time.

“What is it?” he asked in a tense whisper. “Why have we stopped? Have we found Kuric?”

But soon, he could see for himself what had happened. They had indeed found someone but it was not Kuric. He saw Gorin bending over a man that looked very much like…

“Kun!” he exclaimed then. “You are the last person I have expected to run into here! How did you get here?”

But there was no time for such talk, as Parkun’s words clearly told him. Toby was hurt and Kuric had run off to take on a pack of Wargs single handed.

“Curse that stiff-necked dwarf for going alone and not waiting for us!” Erling said. “And poor Toby! What are we to do?”

[Groin Redbeard]

A cold chill ran up Gorin's short spine. The wargs had already killed one of their men and now another is wounded possibly dead. All of a sudden his angry words directed at Kuric, which had seemed justifiable a minute ago, where forgotten. Gorin was genuinly frightened at the thought of those beasts ripping his flesh into pieces, he did not mind dieing in battle against a worthy foe, but not dieing at the whim of an animal.

He looked up at the wounded man named Kun. There was a hint of desperation and fright in his voice when he talked, but Gorin was too shaken to notice this. He took courage in the expressions of his companions, he felt no shame in feeling scared. "Just do your duty and I'll be fine." he told himself.

Gorin's beard waved gently in the breeze as he started to look around for Kuric's tracks again. They wouldn't be going anywhere fast with Kun with them, and going after Kuric would be the deadliest of paths to choose, but Gorin would feel some comfort in knowing the way that his kinsman had gone. It wasn't hard to find, Kuric's heavy build was easy to track.

There was no mistaking where Kuric had headed, through a trail of broken twigs, trampled down brush, and stirred up earth Gorin found Kuric's tracks. Gorin smiled, the tracks were fresh and no more than ten minutes old.

[Thinlómien]

"Wargs attacked us, but I fought them off, and Toby is hurt! Kuric's gone to get him."

"We must follow Kuric then," Ash said hesitantly. "He and Toby are in grave danger."
Lea nodded in agreement, although she knew that would put them in grave danger in turn. She knew Ash knew it too, so she considered it pointless to say it aloud. She gripped Orin's shoulder tightly.

"Parkun. You said you fought those wargs off. May I ask how? You don't look wonded and I don't mean to under-estimate you, but..."

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin slowly crept back towards the group unnoticed. Lea was holding Orin tightly and was casting a worried look up at Ash. As always, Sam was silent and was thinking to himself, at least it looked that way. Erling was looking at, listening to him speak.

Lea turned her worried face from Ash to Parkun, and asked him how he fought the Wargs off. Gorin nodded his head in silent agreement, Parkun had not struck him as the type to stand up to anything. He looked thin and boysh in the face, not at all what a fighter would look like. There was a bow strung to his back with a quiver, almost filled with arrows, and the dwarf noticed a knife hanging from Parkun's belt. Gorin's face grimaced in disgust. He fought them off? Most likely this Toby that he's talking about fought them while this coward ran, and there was nothing Gorin hated worse than a coward, unless it be a traitor.

[Durelin]

They were all looking at him, waiting for answers: answers which he had to contrive and make seem sincere. Lying was hardly new to him, and Kun was accustomed to putting on an act, especially for authoritative figures, but he could hardly breathe now for reasons beyond the blow to his chest. There was another dwarf, though the “defenders” still seemed to be much fewer in number than before. Another dwarf! If this one was as crazy as the other…

The strange dwarf and the girl seemed skeptical, which both infuriated and frightened him. But there was no way they would not follow him to save their hobbit friend…not this kind of people.

It was hardly convincing, though, his story of “fighting off” the wargs with Toby. Kun did his best not to show any anger as he tried to imagine what was going through Lea’s and the dwarf’s minds. The way the dwarf looked at him…it was with disgust. They thought him a coward. They hated him for wanting to survive. They thought him a coward, but he knew he was smart.

“I…” Kun lowered his head, hiding the anger in his eyes, and making a show of sadness and shame. His fists were clenched, but at least any anger could be assumed to be directed at himself. “I…ran. I did. I abandoned him.”

He began pouring emotion into his voice, and allowed his body to shake with his fear. “I was scared, I…I was never ready to defend anyone, I should never have come. I have only failed the town, failed you…and…and Toby.” He practically sobbed.

“I just hope it is not too late to do something about it. To rectify what I have done.”

Kun paused as his eyes glistened with tears. He had often used tears to get out of trouble. Everyone thought him pathetic, wimpy, girlish anyway, and he was always about using things to his advantage.

“I should have helped him then and there, but…I will help him now, though I need your help.”

His gaze was pleading but contained determination as he looked up at the others and pulled himself to his feet.

[Dimturiel]

Erling gave a weary sigh of exasperation when Parkun began his outburst. The last thing the band of Defenders needed was that. And the last thing he wished to listen to was Parkun’ groaning about what a coward he had been. He usually was patient and calm but right now his patience was waning fast. He was weary and angry and wanted that wretched day and the battle with the Wargs to be over whatever the end would be. He wondered briefly whether shouting with rage would help him get rid of his frustrations, but he reconsidered, realising that it would most likely draw the Wargs to them. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Well, then we should go now, unless we want to have more deaths tonight.” he said. “Perhaps there will be more anyway. No matter. We should go. And you…”

Erling turned to Parkun and he was ready to vent all his anger on him, to reprimand him from running away and leaving poor Toby in the claws of the Wargs, but he suddenly found that he could not. How could he talk? He had not been there. He could not tell whether he would not have done the same thing, whether he would really have had the courage to stay. Most likely not, he thought. Most likely he would find it hard to stand and fight even now. He sighed, and shook his head.

“Come, lead the way, Parkun, if you can.” he told him on a weary tone. “I cannot say anything against you, as I cannot tell whether I would not have abandoned Toby myself to save my own skin. But we had better go now. We should hurry.”

[mormegil]

It took all the patients Kuric could muster, to just wait for this man to gain his composure. So disheveled and unnerved he was that it reminded Kuric why he knew he must go at this alone. “These people, aren’t ready fer the task” he thought to himself. The man spoke about Toby and it took a moment for Kuric to remember who Toby was. By then Parkun had asked about the location of the others.

“The others,” Kuric questioned, “Why I left ‘em back at the clearin back there. Figured they’d be no good ta me out here. I was goin ta get those wargs meself lad. I reckon they are just a short distance ahead. In fact,” Kuric chuckled, “I thought you were one of them. Here let me help ya up lad.” Kuric extended his right hand towards Parkun who instinctively flinched which only caused Kuric to spit in disgust at this man. “Where’s his spine” he wondered to himself. Realizing that it wasn’t another attack Parkun accepted the help and with some difficulty he managed to stand despite the wobbly feeling in his legs.

“Now lad, I think it’d be fer the best if ya got yerself back with the others.” Pointing the way Kuric instructed “it’s that way there, it took me a bit and I was runnin ta find these ruddy wargs and now me mission is all the more urgent, what with that helpless hobbit in the mix. I knew he shouldn’t have come in the first place, nothing but trouble sending out a bunch of hobbits if ya ask me, he wanted to take charge when I told him it’d be fer the best if I was the leader…” Suddenly Kuric heard the howl of the warg that brought him out of his untimely rant.

Grabbing his mace and beginning to towards the direction of the sound at a quick pace, Kuric realized that Parkun wasn’t following. Turning to face him he saw what was, in his mind, a sniveling weakling not fit for true combat. Knowing that he wouldn’t have the emotional fortitude necessary for such an encounter Kuric waved off Parkun not hiding his disdain for him and said “Go back to the others and tell them to stay put, I’ll take care of our wargs” With that Kuric departed through the trees again resuming his hunt and destiny.

[Groin Redbeard]

His eyes burned, his grip tightened around his axe and shield; even his beard seem to twitch with his anger. He wanted to hit Parkun, standing there and almost sobbing with fear. Such foolish behaviour should not be aloud when lives are at stake, Gorin wanted to strike him with all of his might! He stepped forward, about to do just that, when Erling's words stopped him. He was so bent on his thoughts that the words startled Gorin.

Erling's talk was calm and consciously composed, and it even sounded as if Erling pitied Parkun a bit. Gorin to mad for words, his eyes widened his stance as stiff as a stone statue. Kuric had left to save this miserable man's companion, Toby, and all that Erling could do was sound cross! It had tried his short span of patience even thinner, these people were made of lesser material than dwarfs. He did not dare to speak just yet in fear that he would snape and do something rash.

Parkun led the way sobbing, trying to compose himself as best he could. Gorin followed close behind him, infront of Lea and Ash. His eyes were fixed on Parkun and never left him.

"Good for nothing Breelander," he said not realizing that he was speaking outloud, but barely above a whisper, "If Kuric dies may that man also die, with my axe in his throat!" His words were low, but filled with his wrath.

Gorin sprinted closer to Parkun and hit him hard on the shoulder with his hand, almost causing Parkun to fall down. "Come on Parkun," he growled, "Pick up the pace or we'll never reach them in time!"

[Durelin]

All of them seemed to turn on him now. Just as before, they all watched him, but now all their gazes were filled with anger and disgust. Even Erling, who had always seemed to calm and patient, and who had always been kind to Parkun – he had seemed so relieved to find him! – turned on him with anger flashing in his eyes for a moment. The “you” Erling spat at Kun was spiteful.

And that Dwarf…he was worse than Kuric, now. Kun thought he could feel rage emanating from him, and avoided looking at the Dwarf. He held his axe in his hands and a shield, and the young man was frozen for a moment with the fear that the Dwarf was about to strike. His chest still ached like mad, and this Dwarf was not about to strike him on accident.

Now, at the best they pitied him. That was what he had seen in Erling’s eyes besides anger. But he was not the one to be pitied, he thought. They were about to follow him to… Kun could not finish the thought, though it did not exactly displease him.

Kuric, though, had gone ahead. In the direction of where the wargs would be waiting for their meal. Kun wished he could stall a little longer somehow, but how would it look now, if he would not immediately take them to Toby, after his little speech about wanting to save him. There was an urgency now that he had helped create.

He could not bring himself to move quickly, though, for more than one reason. His chest still ached with every breath he took, and thoughts began to run through his mind until his knees nearly gave out. If the Kuric drew out the wargs, and they got there before the Dwarf was taken care of, it would no longer be a trap. But then perhaps he could slip away unnoticed, if there was a fight, and still survive, as everyone would be busy, and…maybe no one would survive, warg, man, dwarf, or hobbit. Then he could say whatever he liked, and be the surviving hero, or flee from Bree forever.

Kun inhaled a bit sharply, and his chest stung. Maybe he was already dying, anyway. Maybe he was dying slowly, and his suffering would be long and drawn out, thanks to that crazy dwarf.

The young man felt a hard punch in the back of his shoulder that caused him to stumble, as his knees threatened to allow him to topple. The dwarf growled quietly behind him, but Kun heard every word. Kun stumbled on stiffly, finding it difficult to keep his eyes ahead of him and his fists unclenched.

Their anger angered him in turn, though he had expected it. This new dwarf – who was he to speak ill of anyone? Kun had had his fill of their kind. They were nothing but dim-witted oafs who should not be trusted with anything that could do harm, for they did not need any help.

But it was no matter. This only made his work easier.

[Thinlómien]

Leanora looked at Parkun. She pitied the young man and understood him. She was sorry for what had happened to him, yet the thought of what he had done horrified her. The most horrifying thought was that she was not sure if she herself would have had the courage to act differently in his stead. She turned her eyes away to avoid seeing the reflection of her own cowardice on his face.

She grasped Orin's arm tightly. The boy's face was very pale in the moonlight, but there was resolution in his eyes. Lea wanted to hug him, but that would have broken his courage or at least humiliated him. So she just gave him the bravest smile she could.

She led him behind the others. "We're the rearguard," she told him solemnly. "We have a very important duty. We must keep an eye on the surroundings and ensure that no one is following us. We two are young and we have good eyes and sharp ears." And we're the weakest fighters, and I want to keep you safe. She did not say that aloud. Orin nodded. His sister could not see if there was relief or disappointment on his face.

Ash cast a glance at his siblings. They would hopefully be most safe at the background. He knew Lea could take care of Orin and he also knew that she could take care of herself as well as he could of himself. Still, he was afraid for them, and for himself too, but that he did not admit.

Instead, he stepped to Parkun's side. He had noticed the man could hardly walk well, and they were in a hurry. "Will you let me help you?" he asked, offering his arm.

[mormegil]

Thoughts continued to rush through Kuric’s mind as he raced towards the wargs. He clearly remembered leaving home and the lack of understanding by his clansmen. They couldn’t understand why a dwarf would leave such a rich mine for a life of adventure alone. He remembered the excitement and sense of purpose he felt as he descended the mountain to begin his new life. While he did make it back home occasionally, he never looked back, and yet at this moment he questioned his decision to leave wondering if he had been correct in his decision. Kuric felt saddened and depressed realizing that for all his lofty goals and ambitions he hadn’t made much of a difference in Middle-earth and no tales would be told of him.

Maybe, he wondered, just maybe if I save these townsmen from this fight, then I’ll be worthy of some small tale. With a heavy heart but a fixed resolve Kuric plunged into the clearing where the wargs held Toby. He immediately saw three enormous wargs surrounding their hobbit quarry that lay on the ground bloody and lifeless. All rationale thought left Kuric’s mind and the familiar sense of battle-lust took over. This is what Kuric lived for and this is what he would die for; the adrenaline rush of battle, the combat that allowed one to prove his prowess and ability. Kuric was a masterful warrior having seen much combat and been in more than one tavern brawl. Kuric never hesitated, he immediately lowered his head and rushed headlong into battle, all the aches and pains of age were washed away.

With his giant mace he made a wide sweeping blow at the seemingly unsuspecting wargs, so ferocious and sudden was his onslaught. Kuric knew what would happen when he made this stroke, it wasn’t designed to necessarily overly injure any opponent, but in large groups it was meant to get them off balance, leaving them exposed for the next assault. Kuric quickly spotted one that appeared slower and was probably injured. Realizing is best to thin the numbers quickly while he still had the element of surprise he moved in for the attack on the unfortunate warg that Gorin had previously injured. The warg saw the attack coming but couldn’t move out of the way in time. Kuric utilizing the forward momentum of his body to further propel this blast, took the mace in an overhead swinging down motion to the back of the warg. The warg instantly crumbled beneath the blow which broke it back and ribs. Feeling his enemy fall and hearing the breaking of so many bones brought Kuric a joy that made him begin to sing an ancient dwarvish battle song, he felt that it brought him greater strength. But now the other two were prepared, for so quick was Kuric to attack the weakest that he positioned himself directly between two wargs that now had him severely flanked.

Realizing his mistake he sought to buy himself a bit of time and yelled out “Come on ya mangy cur, a hobbit is one thing but can ya take on a dwarf?” The moment hesitation this caused the wargs gave Kuric the moment he needed. Based upon the position of his mace he felt it best to attack the warg on his right and he made a sudden move to the warg. He knew that the other would be on him immediately but he underestimated their speed and as he reached back to begin his swing his arm suddenly stopped and he felt a great pressure on his forearm where the other warg had grabbed his arm in its large maw. Kuric’s arm was protected by his mithril mail but the blunt pressure was painful. Cursing Kuric quickly, before the warg could fully react, Kuric brought his right fist and landed a damaging blow with his spiked glove at the base of the wargs neck causing him to let go of Kuric’s arm and yelp in pain.

Once the initial flurry was over the remaining two wargs were content to circle around Kuric, waiting for him to make the next move. Blood was dripping down the one who received the wound but it was not a fatal blow. Kuric who was often rash and impulsive wasn’t content to wait this out and play their game. He lunged towards the warg nearest to him making a feint that he was going for an all out attack on the injured warg. Knowing that the other would be in quick pursuit from behind he stopped surprisingly fast and reversed his direction and without looking made a sweeping blow of his mace. The warg tried to change direction but wasn’t fully prepared for this move from his prey. He got clipped on the hind quarter as he turned to flee. The impact caused the left hind leg to shatter. There was no time to relish his slight victory for no sooner had the blow been delivered than the third warg was on him. Normally a warg jumping on his back wouldn’t have thrown Kuric to the ground but the final warg was the most powerful of the three and he had caught Kuric off balance after swinging his mace. He was able to knock Kuric face down into the ground and savagely began probing with his mouth and claws over Kuric’s body for any unprotected flesh. It found that area in the inner part of the upper thigh and clamped down with great force shaking his head vigorously to cause further damage to the sensitive skin. This caused Kuric to fail in his attempt to get back up. The warg backed off knowing it had caused a significant injury to the lone dwarf and was content to wait for his plans to fully hatch.

Kuric struggled to his feet and looking down he could see the blood pooling below him. He recognized that it would only be a matter of time before he succumb to his wound if he weren’t treated, but there would be no time for that and he must make a final stand to protect those who are still out in the wilderness. Knowing that with the two there wouldn’t be a way to take out the largest warg Kuric began to make his way to the warg with the broken leg. Forgetting his pain and one last sacred honor to his people he let out his final battle cry with a growl “Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!” and rushed as fast as his leg would allow toward the injured warg. Grabbing his mace his both hands and lifting it above his head Kuric hoped to make a quick death stroke and then figure out what to do next. The mace came down causing a sickening thud and the warg crumpled beneath the force. Just as he turned to face the other warg Kuric was hit hard and unexpectedly from behind and was slammed to the ground hitting his head on a rock. All was growing black and the final thing Kuric remembered was the sounds of wargs, he wondered where the others had come from and he thought he faintly heard the sound of a dwarf calling his name before it all faded into blackness and he remembered no more.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin watched with satisfaction as his hit sent Parkun stumbling to the ground on one knee. He chuckled as he a look of pain come over the young mans face and was tempted to deliver another blow, but thought better of it. Instead Gorin strode past him and waited for him to pick up the pase to resume leading them. He was surprised and outraged when Ash stepped forward and helped Parkun up, this was not the time for such gentlemanly behaviour! Let the wimp be pitied all he wants to be when he gets back to his town of Bree, but out here in the wild they needed to keep moving. He wanted to shout at Ash ignorance for the gravity of the situation , but it would have made things a hundred times worse and instead contented himself with impatiently tapping his axe upon his shield.

Lea and Orin walked in the rear of the company, a smart move on their part, with Ash close by their side. Parkun breathed heavily in the vanguard and was followed closely by Erling and Gorin. Sam stayed in the shadows, and his foot falls were so quiet he was barely even noticed by the group. The wind had picked up and the clouds were drawn back like a veil, revealing the moon and the light that it brought forth. They could see easier now. Only a dwarf could have made such a careless trail of snapped twigs and trampled bushes that much was sure, they barely needed Parkun to lead them the trail was so clear.

Suddenly, the unmistakable voice of Kuric was heard in the distance yelling the battle cry of the dwarf's. The company came to an abrupt halt and listened intently, and a yelp was heard soon after. Gorin's face lit up in a bright smile as he lept for joy. Forgetting his anger he threw his left arm around Parkun's shoulder in a thankful embrace.

"Well done," he exclaimed, "Hurry, let us hasten to him before the battle is won!" He darted off in the direction of the noise and was quickly overtaken by some of the longer legged members of the group.

"Kuric, Kuric!" Gorin yelled laughing as he ran, but little did he realize that his friend could not hear his cries.

[Durelin]

“Will you let me help you?”

Parkun’s initial reaction to Ash’s offer and question was surprise and anger bordering on disgust. No, he did not want the boy to help him. They all thought he was so weak…

Kun did his best to look thankful, and hoped any other emotion might be passed off for pain. He was in pain, after all. He still took Ash’s arm hesitantly, and at first he let hardly any of his weight fall on the younger man. After picking up the pace a bit, though, he found himself actually using Ash for support. His skin tingled with his disgust at having himself practically held up by the boy.

Suddenly everyone froze as they heard howling from somewhere deeper in the forest to their right. Kun doubted himself for a couple moments, and went back to walking slowly when the group began moving again. He was all but forced to move more quickly, and they drew near the clearing in which he had first encountered the wargs sooner than he liked.

From the clearing came a loud, growling battle cry that sounded as if it were in another language, as well as yelps and growls less human…or dwarf.

Much too soon.

Kun felt like he was being tackled suddenly, as the new dwarf actually embraced him. The man felt truly disgusted this time, but that was not what kept him rooted to where he stood. Icy panic enveloped him. He felt cold, faint, numb, and like he needed desperately to empty his stomach all at once. He felt he was being choked. He was going to die…

What had the Dwarf said? “Let us hasten to him before the battle is won.”

Could Kuric really take on five wargs? But no, there were not necessarily all five. They had heard howling from somewhere else on their way here. He had brought them too early, and they were all supposed to be brought together. This was no longer a trap. At least not for the “defenders of Bree.”

He was going to die.

~*~*~*~

Dûrkoth stared at the short two-leg’s body. No, he would not be getting up again. But neither would Snagath, or Carchel. As Agarcarag and Morfin sniffed the dying two-leg and licked at his blood, Dûrkoth stood over Carchel’s twitching form. He was trying to get up, but he would receive no help from his comrades. His eyes were wide with pain and fear, though they had already begun to cloud over. It did not seem Carchel’s eyes could widen any further, but they did as they gazed up at Dûrkoth.

“It’s called ‘death,’ Carchel,” the large, silver-backed Warg grunted. “It comes quickly to the weak…and the foolish.”

Dûrkoth would have watched his minion die with interest, but he caught a scent…several scents…close.

“More two-legs!” Dûrkoth growled. It was too late to hide and lay in wait. And he would play no more games with these two-legs. He would save the skinny, bright-furred one to devour last, so he could pick at him slowly with an already full stomach.

[Dimturiel]

Erling could not remember much of the rest of the march. There was little talk from anyone. They all seemed to know that they were close to the end of their adventure-whatever that was going to be... None of them looked to hopeful.

Suddenly, they all halted, stricken. At first, Erling did not know what had filled their heart with so much horror and made them stop. But then, he realised. Howls! Nearer and stronger than they had heard them before! And then....then...Kuric's battle cry-it had to be him, it sounded like his voice. Released from the frozen state they had been rendered by the howls, the defenders hastened forward.

As they ran, Erling tried to take his long knife from his seath. He had to do it quickly, he thought. He had to, lest the wargs caught him unprepared and helpless. Finally, he managed to take it out. He glanced at it, and its appearance did not encourage him at all. It was slightly rusty and the blade did not seem to be too sharp. Erling's heart sank. How was he going to take on the Wargs with that? Why hadn't he the sense to at least sharpen his knife before setting off?

They were close now, he knew that. The holws were louder than ever. Clutching his knife, Erling ran with the others, trying not to think or to remember how terrified he was. Soon, they would reach the Wargs. Soon, it would end-one way or the other.

[Thinlómien]

The howls died away. It was all silent but for the rustling wind in the treetops. The defenders' breath and footsteps rang loud in the night. No birds could be heard and then even the wind stilled.

There was a low snarl and howling, so much closer than ever before.

The defenders of Bree froze. In no time at all there were deadly claws and teeth everywhere. There were cries and sounds of weapons and moving bodies. The night that had been so silent only a twinkling of an eye before was bursting with the noises of life and death.

It was difficult to see who was fighting and where. Amidst all the hassle, there were two bodies laying on the grass some hundred feet from them. Lea could recognise Toby and Kuric. She turned to Orin. The wargs had not attacked either of them in their first dash. "Listen. We go to Toby and Kuric. We try to save them. It might be too late later." She grasped Orin's arm and they ran.

"Keep an eye on the wargs!" Lea hissed to Orin, who looked very pale. Meanwhile, she cast a quick glance at the men laying on the ground. They were both very pale but breathing. "Orin, tear strips of your tunic and bind their wounds. Just like you bound the foot of farmer Kettle's dog last winter. Tightly. Be careful but try to be quick too. I'll protect you."

The boy had the sense to obey. Leanora took her bow. It was a slight bow, designed for hunting rabbits, not killing wargs. Nevertheless, it would have to do. She took an arrow too, and put it on the bowstring and drew the bow. She aimed at the nearest warg and released the arrow, and missed her target. Refusing to despair, she took another arrow. This time she shot more quickly and hit. The warg howled in pain, but did not turn. The lonely bowman was not much of a threat, not yet.

~*~

Only the childhood summers spent with his Aunt Rhea's dogs saved Ash's life. When the giant wolf landed on the top of him, he used its momentum to roll a little sideways so that the beast's groping jaws could not reach his neck. Its paws were tearing through his clothes and through his skin. Ash blocked the pain and stuck his knife to the creature's side. It howled in rage and attempted at his throat again. This time its teeth sunk to his shoulder and it was his turn to cry out. He pulled his knife off the beast and stabbed it again. They rolled in the ground, wrestling, the warg groping at the man's head and the man trying to stab the warg with his knife.

Ash felt himself weaken. The warg was too much for him, too strong. His shoulder was bleeding and his left arm was an alarming mixture of piercing pain and cold numbness. He put all his strength to the effort and managed to sink his knife hilt-deep to the warg's belly. It howled again, more agonised than ever before, but it retaliated with a deadly speed. Ash did not have the time or the strength to push its gaping jaws away.

[Groin Redbeard]

A chorus of howls broke out all around the defenders and Gorin turned just in time to see a gaping mouth, filled with teeth, rushing straight at him. He still had the sense to jump out of the way; the long years spent in the wild had taught him the importance of agility. Gorin landed on his chest with a thud and immediately turned himself around to get back up. The swiping blow of a paw against his shield sent him stumbling back, but not knocking him down. A mountain of fur loomed in front of him growling ferociously, and was in turn answered by Gorin’s defiant yell. They rushed at each other, the warg lunging with his open mouth and Gorin side stepping to deliver a painfully hard blow with his axe at the animal’s side. The strike had phased the warg but not beaten it, Gorin soon found this out as it spun around and knocked him down with its flanks. Gorin made got up as quickly as he could, but was surprised that he had not felt the warg’s death blow. As he got up he saw Sam not too far from him with and arrow in his string and two more in the dead warg. He wanted to thank him, but this was not the time.

The scent of death was all around him. He glanced frantically around to catch a glimpse of his friends and could see that the battle proved ill. Erling had his hands full but was fighting well as Sam joined his side. It was then that Gorin saw him: Kuric! Leanora and Orin were rushing to his side, but he remained stiff and still as if he were frozen. Despair took him for a second and then a rage consumed him. His hands clenched around his shield and axe, his body felt light as if he could fly; he did not feel tired, weary, or fear just anger.

Ash was fighting for his life with a large warg. Gorin rushed at it with all the focus and speed that he had ever known. Out of the corner of his eye he could see another warg attempting to intercept him, but it was stopped short by an arrow from Lea found its mark in the warg’s back. Ash was on the ground and bleeding as the warg began to grip his teeth around the man’s waist. Gorin braced his right foot against a rock and leapt into the air, and landed with his full weight on the warg’s neck. Both of them tumbled to the ground, but Gorin was the first to get on his feet.

“Come on,” Gorin yelled at the warg, “Soon I will teach you the meaning of death, and you will taste the fury of this dwarf!”

[Dimturiel]

It had begun. It had begun quicker than Erling had expected. Before he could tell his senses what was about to happen, before he could decide upon a plan that might keep him alive, the Wargs were upon them. He had little time to realise what had happen and even less time to decide how to act.

Clutching his knife, he began hitting this way and that, without pausing to look whether his blows struck home or not. At one point, he was sure he had hit something, but he did not dare to stop and look. He was barely thinking about what he was doing. Everything was happening much too fast, and anyway he was growing tired. Only one thing was urging him on-the will to survive, the knowledge that, if he stopped, he would surely be killed. At one point, he dimly registered that Sam had joined him. He smiled slightlly, glad in some part of his head that he was no longer alone.

Suddenly, there was a brief pause in the attack and Erling caught a glimpse of Kuric lying motionless on the ground and of Lea and Orin rushing to his aid. For some time he stood still watching them, although his weariness made it dificult for him to register what he was seeing. Nor did he have too much time for it. Once again he was attacked, and once more he began fighting, moved only by his desperate will to live yet another minute longer.

[Durelin]

Dûrkoth knew before the two-legs arrived that his pack was now considerably out-numbered. And there was another dwarf, who also looked like he would put up a fight. What were two dwarves doing in Bree-land? The weaker two-legs had the advantage in numbers and in luck, it seemed.

Morfin went for one of the tall two-legs who did not hesitate in using a knife. The man had little skill, but the will and desperation to survive was enough power to deal Morfin a wound. Agarcarag went straight for the dwarf, and Dûrkoth cursed him as a fool. The tall two-leg Morfin battled was soon joined by another small one, but only after the small one’s bow had defeated Agarcarag.

Morfin howled in rage and lashed out more fiercely than ever at the man and hobbit. Dûrkoth had no need to redouble his efforts against his first prey. He soon had his jaws around the waist of one of the tall two-legs. This one looked young…unfortunately it was not the bright-haired one. Dûrkoth had all but finished the boy off when the dwarf charged him.

Morfin had broken away from his fight with the other man and hobbit – as if he thought he needed to save his chief, Dûrkoth thought bitterly as he caught his minion’s movement out of the corner of his eye – but he received an arrow in his haunches, and he yelped before turning and racing in blind anger back towards the hobbit.

The dwarf leapt onto Dûrkoth, and the large warg went down, his neck nearly crushed. He rolled himself away from the short two-leg, and pulled himself to his feet, though not quite as quickly as the dwarf. Dûrkoth snarled a laugh as the short two-leg made his short speech. He would show him the meaning of death? Dûrkoth knew all there was to know about death. There was nothing left but for him to experience it, and there would be no knowledge to be gained in that moment.

Dûrkoth allowed himself a quick side-glance to where the fallen dwarf lay. No, these two-legs would be the ones learning a great deal about death.

“You should not waste what precious breath you have left with such words, dwarf,” he growled. “You know the bright-haired two-leg traded your lives for his own. Too bad that one messed things up a bit,” he snarled as he gestured with his muzzle in the direction Kuric lay. Dûrkoth let out a howling laugh.

~*~*~*~

Parkun was soon left alone just paces outside the clearing. All the others had charged in with little hesitation behind the dwarf. He was fascinated for several moments by the sounds that emerged from the clearing and seemed to surround him. How many had he brought to their death, after all?

Hopefully five wargs at least, Kun thought as he broke into a run, crashing through the trees in a direction opposite the clearing. He would run until he could hear no more sounds.

[Groin Redbeard]

Gorin was shocked at this new revelation. He did not want to believe what the warg had said, but Parkun's absence in the battle confirmed it: they had been betrayed. His battle furry was soon renewed as the great warg howled with delight over the slain body of Kuric.

"Laugh while you can, fowl beast of the shadow, I will finish my kinsman's work!"

With those final words Gorin leapt at the warg. It bit at him with it's large chomping furiously at him. The dwarf dodged every attempt beating the warg's face with his shield, and as he slammed it again the warg stood on his hind legs towering above him. It swiped at him with his paw, Gorin blocked the blow, but it proved futile, as his shield splintered into a hundred pieces at the force of the warg's paw.

There was a searing pain in his arm as backed away, it was broken. He retaliated fast, in order to catch his foe off gaurd, jabbing his axe into the warg's face. The warg reared and howled in pain, as Gorin raised his axe for another blow.

"Yeeaarrgh!" Gorin struck hard at the neck, the blow sent the warg spiraling to the ground, his axe still deep in the wargs throat. It lay still and Gorin wondered if it was really dead. He withdrew one of his throwing axes from his belt and approached the warg, not knowing that it was still alive!

[Groin Redbeard]

All the sounds of battle had faded from his ears, a pain he never experienced before was searing through his left arm. For a moment he forgot where he was and what was happening around him, all that mattered was his vengeance which he would unleash upon the beast that he had slain. Gorin could hear his own breaths exiting from his open mouth in heavy gasps, like a relentless bellows that could not stop as he walked toward the limp Warg. His heart beat fast from his adrenaline of battle, which had not yet subsided, as he approached the Warg. Hot tears streamed down his face and rolled on his beard when he stopped stood over the carcass of his foe.

Without any warning or sign, the dormant Warg sprang back to life, to the complete amazement and bewilderment of Gorin. It was weaker and less tenacious than it had been in their previous struggle, but it still had the strength to fight to the death with the dwarf's axe still embedded in it's throat. Gorin's short axe was of little use to him as he hacked, kicked, punched, and lunged at the monstrous animal with as much energy as he could muster. Gorin ducked under the Warg's swiping paw and dealt a blow to it's hind leg with his small axe; the Warg howled in pain. It retaliated chomping his hand that held the axe, but the dwarf pulled it out of the way and the Warg tore his sleeve off. It growled and came back at him, but this time Gorin wasn't fast enough and a mouth of sharp teeth clamped down on his other hand. The pain was excruciating and with a yell of pain and anger he drove his elbow of his good arm into the Warg's eye causing it to back off but not before it took the dwarf's hand with him.

Gorin prepared to die as they both backed off for a final charge at each other. He stumbled to the ground on on one knee, finally overtaken by the grievous situation of his wounds. No, I will die proudly today! With the last effort of will he stood straight and proud, laughing at the Warg's futile fighting. Soon he would be killed and the beast succumb to it's wounds, which were many. It was then that the Warg yelped in pain and thrashed about. It was Leanora, brave Lea, who had rushed to her brothers side and was shooting as fast as she could at the her brothers attacker. The arrows flew fast and wildly at the Warg, not piercing deep but stinging like a swarm of bees at an oppressor that had just riled them. The Warg limped as fast as he could away from the clearing for the cover of the forest, but just before he disappeared into the brush Gorin axe struck him in the shoulder, a mighty hit that would have felled lesser things.

They battle was won! Two dead wargs lay dead by Erling and Sam, and with their leader soon to be dead the threat of a returning terror was over. Gorin doubled over in pain when he saw his left hand missing. He tore of some of his garment and wrapped it tightly around the wound, which was bleeding profusely. Erling and Sam gave three loud cheers as Ash stood up with the help of Lea, his wound to his shoulder would need to be bound up and his arm was broken, but he would live to recant his tale to the town council. It was then that Gorin saw Kuric's body again, laying there so cold and still. He stumbled over to his side and fell on his knees.

"Brave, foolish Kuric," he said through his watery eyes, "Your valor shall not be forgotten, nor what you have done here. Alas that I should see the death of one of my own! Our people our few and the loss of one so noble is one that we can ill afford, for he fought like a hero of old where they would sing of your deed. But who will sing of you now, who will remember the brave deeds of Kuric." Sobs shook his body and his tears poured down like rain. "Goodbye, Kuric Spearhead. A good friend you were to me, for that short while!" Then Gorin clasped his friends hand in his own and wept bitterly over his body.

[Durelin]

Dûrkoth heard the yelp of his dying minion and then the whistling of arrows. They struck him with sharp stings that made his body shake. But each time his heart beat, the pain seemed to grow less and less. His body was growing numb…but he still thought very clearly, if only of one thing.

As quickly as his weak limbs could carry him, Dûrkoth disappeared into the woods surrounding the clearing, in the direction the two-legs had come from. It was not long before he picked up the scent of fear. The air was thick with the smell where he found the bright-haired two-leg. The warg did not bother with stealth as he approached the two-leg. The boy would see his death as it came to him, but he would not be able to escape it. No one could. Not even the mighty Dûrkoth.

Parkun sat at the foot of a tree, trying frantically to decide what story he would tell when he returned to town, when he heard the soft crunching of vegetation somewhere to his left. He jumped up and whirled toward the sound. The first thing his eyes caught was two yellow orbs that sent shivers throughout his being. Every nerve in his body seemed to be quivering, urging him to move, but he could not.

As the warg approached him, Kun almost felt…relief. He suddenly could breathe again. There was a large gash in the warg’s neck, two arrows in his side, and in other areas his fur was matted with blood that was likely mostly his own. The beast would be dead in moments. It paused its approach, and seemed to waver on its large paws.

Suddenly all was clear to Kun. He had the perfect story to redeem his disappearance. The young man allowed himself a nervous smile as he drew his dagger. “Who should be begging for their life now?” Parkun asked, his smile growing. He was enjoying the warg’s ragged breaths. He felt…powerful. He was in control.

But when he dared look the beast in the eye again, Kun knew it was smiling back.

Dûrkoth left the two-leg to bleed out a slow death, his stomach ripped open. The warg disappeared again into the trees. He would give no one the satisfaction of watching him die.

[Dimturiel]

It was over before Erling had even had time to realise what was happening around him. He looked puzzled at the Warg that lay dead at his feet. He thought he heard himself give a shout of triumph, but he was as yet much too bewildered and tired to understand its meaning much.

He looked around him. Gradually, the realisation that they had won was making its way in his mind. They had won. There would be no more troubles from now on, the Breelanders could sleep peacefully at night once more. They could once more pick up their former, carefree life. Or, at least, those who had not seen the battle could, for Erling very much doubted he would have the strength to be carefree again. Perhaps later on, much later on.

And it had not been without sacrifices, Erling thought ruefully. He remembered Grimbeorn dead near Edin Cengal's farm, and now Kuric, and...But suddenly, he realised something was wrong. They were too few. Not all of them were there.

"What happened to Kun?" he asked. "Where is he?"

[Thinlómien]

Lea was supporting her twin as well as she could. He was leaning on her and his breathing sounded pained. Lea could see his clothes were bloody all over and his face was very pale. Horrible thoughts were coursing in her head. She could not lose him. They had always been together, he could not leave her now. She didn't dare to ask how bad it was, she didn't even dare to take a proper look at his wounds. She was trying so hard not to cry.

Ash tried to focus his eyes but couldn't. He was weak, so weak. He had never been like this before. He felt as if he would faint. He was glad of his sister, his brave strong sister, being there and holding him. Amidst all the pain and confusion he could sense she was not as calm as usual. Was something wrong?

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looked around. He could see Lea, anguish in her eyes. A wave of weakness hit him suddenly. "Lea... I need to sit. I feel... so frail. But... I'm going to be... alright."

Orin could see his sister helping his brother sit down. They were only concentrating on each other, once again. Fair enough, he did not want any company now. He stood up. He was still shaking from all the effort and tension. He knew he should have been happy for their victory, but there had been too much blood and death. It made him sick. He could see the big warg attacking Ash again and again... He spun around and disappeared to the woods while no one was looking. He hoped he could be alone for a moment.

Just a while ago, the dark forest had been the most terrifying thing imaginable. Now it was comfortingly calm and silent. The darkness was better than the moonlit images of the clearing - here there were no mutilated bodies, no blood, no death.

It was then that he saw what was left of Parkun Felderth, a twisted shape in a pool of blood. Orin let out a cry of terror and ran.

[Durelin]

The dark wood around him was more oppressive than ever. He did not have the strength to move any part of his body, if he could even feel any part. The pain had been the greatest when he had first been torn open, but in just minutes it went beyond something he could register as pain. And now…it was so cold.

Kun was dying. He was dying. He was alone, all alone, and dying. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He had escaped. He had brought the others to where he had been told. He had done his part, it wasn’t his fault they weren’t ready, that the crazy dwarf had charged off ahead, that things hadn’t gone right. Things had gone all wrong, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this. Alone and dying and left to be eaten by the scavengers of the forest.

Kun could see those eyes, and he thought at times they were all around them. He could not turn his head to look and see, but they would flash at him from out of the corner of his eye, and he could feel them boring into him. Just as those claws had into his gut…

He heard footsteps again, and when he couldn’t breathe for a moment he thought this was the end. But his eyes saw a figure and his ears heard a scream. And then it was gone and though he could breathe again Kun barely choked out any words. “Come back, come back…come back!”

He did not think he had enough energy left to do so, but he began to cry. He was dying. They’d all leave him for dead. Did they know? It didn’t matter. He would be dead before any others came upon him. It was so close now. Why did he want to see them anyway? Why did he want them to see him? But he did not want to be alone. He cried because he was still afraid – because it was cold, it was dark, and he was dying.

[mormegil]

All was black and fading, Kuric knew or remembered nothing; there was no pain, no fear, no suffering. Quietly he began to drift into the eternal sleep, suddenly deep in the recesses of his soul it came to him; there was unfinished business still at hand.

Pain overtook his frame and mind as he regained consciousness, he wasn’t sure he would be able to complete his final mission, his pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let him fade, not yet.

Groggily he began to open his eyes, all was hazy and cloudy. He couldn’t make out any images, just fuzzy outlines. “Lad,” he called out weakly, hoping to call for Gorin for, as fortune would have it, he would only trust this task to a fellow dwarf and providence had provided just such a dwarf.

All warmth was leaving his body and he knew that he didn’t have long. Mustering up his strength he managed to call out “Gorin, come here lad” with more volume than the previous plea. A figure approached acknowledging Kuric, he knew not who it was but there was precious little time left. “Gorin,” Kuric said feebly, “I need ya ta…” Kuric began coughing violently and took a moment to regain his ability to speak. “Gorin, I need ya to bring me mail back…” Kuric again coughed and felt his strength leaving him, “bring it back to me king, he’ll understand. I just hope…” Kuric began to doze, quickly shaking it off he began to talk again “I just hope I made a difference in Middle-earth”

With that, Kuric knew it was finished and let death come over him quickly, he would fight no longer.

[Dimturiel]

Orin's cry made Erling start. What was happening now? Was it not over, after all? Was there more to come, more batles, more blood, more death? He looked at Lea and Ash and saw that they could not possibly go and see what had happened to their brother.

"I'll go." he assured them, and sped through the darkness of the forest towards where he had heard Orin's cry. Suddenly he bumped into Orin himself who was running from the opposite direction. The boy looked terrified. "More Wargs, then." Erling thought, biting his lips. But it was not that.

"Parkun..."Orin gasped, pointing to the forest behind him. "Lying over there... Dead, I think..."

Erling nodded urgently and dashed forward. Perhaps he was not dead yet. Perhaps he could be saved somehow. He had to see. But when he finally caught sight of Parkun he realised he had been wrong. He was not dead yet, but he was surely dying. There was nothing anyone could do for him.

Erling kneeled beside Parkun and saw a flicker of recognition in the dying man's eyes. "Don't try to talk." he told him quickly. "It's..." But he could not go on. It was wrong, he thought, telling someone who was about to die that it was going to be alright when they could easily see it was not true. But he had to comfort him somehow. No man deserved to die without comfort. True, Parkun had abandoned Toby to the Wargs, and had ran off while they had been fighting, but he still did not deserve to die without comfort, without hearing one last kind word. Erling took Kun's hand in his, determined to stay with him until it was over. "Don't worry." he told him. "I'll stay with you. I...I'll see you through this."

[Groin Redbeard]

The tears had all been drained from the young dwarf’s eyes and the acceptance that Kuric was finally dead began to set in. He looked on the dwarf’s ghostly white face, it was old and bore the scars of age yet it was peaceful. He heard Orin’s screams of horror in the distance and a look of dread came over him. Gorin wanted to help the young man child, but the grief was too strong for him to leave Kuric’s body. He reached for Kuric’s mace and lifted it the best he could with his one arm, but Erling dashed off before Gorin could follow. Using the mace as a crutch he lifted himself up and tried to look as threatening as he could in hopes of scaring whatever enemy might be out there.

“Lad,” came the familiar voice of Kuric. At first Gorin was frightened, fearing that it was his friends spirit who was talking, but Kuric’s body moved and a faint hope stirred in Gorin.

“Kinsman, I’m here what is it you need.” he said, his deep voice almost cracking with emotion when Kuric did not notice him.

Kuric’s voice was weak, but firm as he spoke. Gorin stayed silent as he watched his friends mind slowly drift farther from him.

“I just hope I made a difference in Middle-earth.” Kuric’s last words where drawn out as his last breath left him.

“Kuric, brave Kuric, all that you have done here tonight will be told to your king. I swear that I shall return and build you a monument so that the story of your deeds will live on in the annals of men and dwarf long after you are gone. I shall do what you ask of me!”

Gorin clenched his great fist in frustration. He wanted to weep, but the tears had left him. He turned to Lea and Ash and then back to Kuric.

“Forgive me if I live you here for a while, but the night is not yet done and our foes are gathering again.” He then took Kuric’s cloak and folded it over his comrade the best he could.

The wind had picked up and the stars appeared again as Gorin walked to Ash and Lea’s side with Kuric’s mace as his new found weapon.

“You have saved my life, Lea. I will never forget you or you kin, I am indebted to you for life.” Gorin gently kissed Lea’s hand and repeated his oath in his own tongue.

“Tonight has been a strange one. By chance it was that I met your company, yet I think it was for the best so that Kuric may not die alone.” he looked back at cloak that covered his friend, “Alas, his was the most costly sacrifice that he could offer on the altar of justice.” Gorin fell silent retreating to his own thought, standing by the side of his new unlikely friends.

[Durelin]

Parkun still cried for himself, but even through failing eyes blurred by tears, he was able to recognize the new figure that knelt beside him. It was Erling. Though they had never been close, he was one of the many constant figures in Parkun’s life. They both had grown up in Bree, and Erling was a regular face in the inn for many years.

They shared their hometown, but Kun thought they shared little else. He was never the good son like Erling, he was not the good citizen. He was the coward who did not fight for anyone’s sake but his own.

“Don't try to talk.” As if he knew what to say… Did Erling know the truth? Of course he must know that he was not at the battle, but…

“Don't worry. I'll stay with you. I...I'll see you through this.”

So kind, as if he truly cared. He must not know what Kun had done. But that did not comfort Kun. Did he want him to know? But how could he tell him? Why should he? What did it matter now? He was the one dying.

“I…I’m…” it was hard to say anything, but especially this.

“Sorry…”

Parkun suddenly felt lighter. It no longer felt like he was lying, a pile of flesh, on the hard ground. The air no longer seemed so heavy, the darkness felt peaceful – there were no more hungry eyes.

But he only had a few moments more before he felt less and less, before Erling’s face was swallowed by the darkness. He felt as if a great terror, a great nothingness was approaching him. He now realized what he should have been afraid of all along.

“No, no, no, no…” Kun cried. His cries were quickly cut off, and then his ragged breaths lasted for a minute or two longer before all was still.

[Thinlómien]

The night was pierced by a high-pitched scream. Lea and Ash glanced at each other in terror. It was Orin!

"I'll go," Erling said instantly and rushed away. "Thank you," Lea shouted after him, but she doubted he heard it. She was staring after him, hoping to see her little brother. Suddenly Ash twisted beside her. "Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. He mumbled something that sounded like "yes" and started leaning on her more heavily. His breath was very heavy too.

Lea stroke his hair. It was dirty and there was blood on it. Ash's blood or the warg's blood, Lea didn't know. Ash had quickly bound his wounds himself - Lea wondered where he had found the strentgh to do it - and would not let her look at them. She would have wanted to, but she knew that once they were bound it would be foolish for anyone else but a professional healer to finger them. So she had to be satisfied with just sitting by his side and stroking his hair.

"Lea? Do you mind if I... sleep?"
"No, not at all."
He closed his eyes and instead of falling asleep, he let go of his consciousness. His sister wasn't scared by it. She could feel his heartbeat, he was most definitely alive. She knew he had been fighting this weakness for long just not to worry her too much. "Sleep well, my dear," she whispered and moved him so that he was laying on her lap.

When Ash wasn't there anymore to occupy her mind, she got worried about Orin again. She tried not to think of what kind of horrible things might have happened to him. He was probably just a little scared by something and Erling would find him.

"You have saved my life, Lea. I will never forget you or you kin, I am indebted to you for life." Lea looked up in surprise to see Gorin. He kissed her hand gently, said something in his own tongue and continued then in common speech:
"Tonight has been a strange one. By chance it was that I met your company, yet I think it was for the best so that Kuric may not die alone." He looked back at cloak that covered his friend. "Alas, his was the most costly sacrifice that he could offer on the altar of justice."

She could not think of a reply. She was deeply moved by the Dwarf's words, he had not known that Dwarves could be like that. She had always considered them rather brusque and unlikable, but this Gorin was a gentle man with a brave spirit.

She reached out to touch his hand lightly. "Your friend was a very courageous man. He saved us all tonight. His spirit has found its peace now."

With those words, her eyes wandered to the other unmoving figure laying on the forest clearing. Toby Mugwort looked pale and his face was possessed by unnatural calm. Lea thought he must be dead, after all. As if to confirm her assumption, Sam Tunnelly, who had been standing by Toby's side, knelt down and closed his eyes. Then the Hobbit walked slowly to the others. He did not say a word, nor did Lea or Gorin.

When he dashed from the woods, Orin did not say a word either. His face was pale and stained with tears. Lea opened her arms and the boy ran to her. She hugged her crying brother tightly.

After a moment, Orin started talking. "I saw Parkun in the woods. He is dead." The boy's tone was calm, almost devoid of feelings. Lea knew he was afraid he'd start crying again.

"You're a brave boy," Gorin said quietly.
Sam nodded gravely. "And these sad tidings must be brought to Bree as soon as Erling returns. Where is he, by the way?"
"He went to see Parkun," Orin said, still shaking a little.
"So I supposed," Sam replied. "And also, we must take your brother to the village too."
Orin's face truned paler than it had been, if it was even possible. He looked at Lea, immeasurable anguish on his face.
"Is he..."
"No," she said. "He's not. You can try and feel his heartbeat."

Slowly, relievement filled the boy's face. He did start crying again, but no one thought any less of him because of that.
"He's going to be alright," Lea said, smiling at Orin. "We're all going to be alright now."

[Durelin]

Mayor Hershman absent-mindedly shuffled parchment around on his desk. Perhaps he had started out looking for something, but he would pass by it numerous times before he remembered he was looking for it. His eyes burned and begged for sleep, but his mind was wide awake, filled to the brim and getting ahead of itself more and more with every thought. The world was beginning to become a bluish-grey, giving away the sun’s presence somewhere beneath the horizon, and he had not slept that night beyond nodding off for a few moments and forgetting where he was and why he was still there.

He was awaiting word from the “Defenders of Breeland”, a group he had thrown together to do…something. Anything. Because that was his job, as far as he knew it – to have something done when something needed to be. As if he knew what to do about mysterious attacks on farms! Of course sending the “Defenders” out had removed a few people from off his back, but all evening he’d had people in and out to ask if there was any news.

The last news Hershman had heard was that the Defenders were seen heading out toward the Chetwood, and so he could not sleep.

It was only long after all other curious and worried folk had retreated to their houses for the night that the knock came, and Erling was welcomed in along with a dwarf – though not the dwarf who had originally set out with the party. At the end of one of his arms was a bloody stump. It took a moment before he found himself able to say or do a thing, but then the mayor was quick to act.

Eventually a story was told, after wounds and much worse were tended to. Mayor Hershman felt surprisingly calm as long as he was busy telling people where to go and what to do, even when three bodies were brought in. But as soon as he allowed himself to sit and listen to Erling and Gorin, shock hit him hard. A young man severely wounded, a dwarf missing a hand, and three dead…dead! Toby and Parkun, a most admirable citizen and the son of the innkeeper… There had been a battle and much bloodshed…here, in Breeland! He felt hopeless and heavy in heart and mind.

Mayor Hershman never would have believed there was such evil left in Middle-earth, other than the evil men could cause themselves. Wargs were something akin to legends as far as the Mayor had been concerned. Certainly they existed at some point, somewhere, even not long ago, but…

The mayor was shut up in his office with Erling and Gorin for over an hour – though he never learned the circumstances of Parkun’s death – and when the young man and dwarf left to get much needed rest, he remained seated at his desk for some time. What could he do? What could he say? There was so much that needed to be said, particularly to the Mugworts and the Felderths, but who was he to say it? He had a title and an office, but he was just an old man who sent others out to die…

No, he thought, with sudden clarity, they did not risk their lives at your bidding. And they certainly did not die for you.

Mayor Hershman paged through a stack of parchment on his desk, as if he hoped to find answers written out for him. He did not register much of anything he read until a certain word caught his eye.

“Wolf”…“Wolf Run”, the heading to a historical record from the Third Age.

The mayor began to read of the “Heroes of Breeland” with tear-filled eyes. Heroes…

[piosenniel]

- Finis -

[piosenniel]

~ To Elvenhome ~