A Land to Call Their Own RPG

[alaklondewen]

Marcho was hurriedly removing the upper branches of the fallen willow, while Kalimac worked on the roots. The uneasiness he felt grew as the surrounding trees seemed to maliciously lean in over the hobbits. The unintelligible whispering became louder as the hobbits disassembled the fallen brother of these trees. Marcho wanted to cry out against them…it wasn’t their doing that this ancient willow had fallen, but he kept his mouth closed and concentrated on the task at hand. The quicker he worked that sooner they could get out of this eerie forest. He hoped the Chubbs would return shortly because he did not want to be forced to look for them, and he certainly could not return to camp without them. An image of Harold’s father rose in Marcho’s mind, and he shuddered.

The scout was almost relieved when Kalimac broke the silence, calling to him in an unexpectedly amiable tone. “You may not be able to answer this, but, why exactly is the root of tree pulling on my foot?”

Marcho laid is axe down and looked curiously toward his brother-in-law. “What?” He wasn’t sure he had heard correctly, but when his gaze fell on Kalimac’s leg, his eyes widened and he stood momentarily in shock. Kalimac tried to pull his leg from the vice, but the roots visibly wrapped tighter around his foot. Marcho lunged forward and knelt next to the attacking roots. He slid his knife from its sheath and slowly moved toward his brother-in-law’s ankle. The roots sensed their danger and squeezed until Kalimac winced, “Don’t cut them…they’re angry, and they’ll break my foot.”

Marcho lowered the weapon and thought a moment, then raised the knife again. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to save my friend.” He yelled toward the towering limbs that swayed and groped over his head. Then, he gently wedged the knife between the roots and Kalimac’s ankle. After rocking the knife slightly for a minute or two, the tree began to lessen its grip.

As soon as an opportunity arose, Kalimac pulled his foot free. “Thank you, Marcho…I will never forget…”

“Don’t worry about it…Let’s just get out of here.”

At the same time, the Chubbs came into the clearing looking pleased to be back with the group. Sarah had her apron folded as though she was carrying something, but Marcho didn’t ask what. Instead he motioned for them to take a load of the timber that he and Kalimac had cut to be taken to the camp.

~*~*~

The hobbits had walked for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes when they began to hear the sounds of the settlers moving about and talking. They had been gone longer than Marcho had expected to be, and his burden lightened with the thought of being out from the closeness of the forest.

As they moved closer, something moved in the shadows and caught the scout’s eye. “Hello there!” He called hoping it was just one of the settlers.

“Hello yourself!” Came the reply from a mouth Marcho could identify even in the dark.

“Father?!” Harold exclaimed in surprise. “What are doing out here?” The hobbit and his wife hurried to where the old hobbit stood. “And Fredigar?”

The old hobbit complained loudly to his son, but Marcho only heard the words “senseless” and “no good hobbit” thrown his way. Shaking his head in slight amusement, the scout passed them by and entered the circle of settlers, where he quickly worked to get the fire made while ignoring the groaning and inquiries of the tired and grouchy travelers.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Fordogrim nearly jumped out of his skin when Marcho called out to him from the dark of the forest. “Hello yourself!” he cried out as crossly as he could to cover the relief that he felt at their return.

“Father?!” Harold exclaimed in surprise. “What are doing out here?” His son and daughter-in-law hurried to where the old hobbit stood. “And Fredigar?” Fred opened his mouth to reply but Fordogrim had recovered from his shock sufficiently to interrupt the younger hobbit with his own response. Placing his feet apart and adopting the pose he assumed when dispensing solid advice that he knows nobody wants, he began his prepared speech to Harold.

“Senseless. Yes, it’s what I said – senseless! Running about in a forest such as this with naught to see by but the glow of your own eyeballs. No good hobbit that had the sense his mother gave him would have done what you did this night, and I’ll not hear of either of you a-taking off like that again! What business you had abandoning your children to follow around after that crack-brain Marcho Bolger I’ll never know, but I expect there’s much about this journey I’ll never understand and you’ll never feel like explaining to me. And as for you, young Master Bolger. . .” but Marcho had taken the opportunity to slink away to his own camp. Fordogrim, not to be deterred, returned to his attention to Harold and Sarah. “Well, what’s over is done. You’re back and you’re unharmed so that’ll be an end of it. . .you are unharmed aren’t you?” He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the last vestiges of concern out of his voice.

Harold smiled and, taking his old father’s arm in his own, helped him walk out of the forest. “We’re both fine Father. We did have a bit of an adventure with Sarah getting separated from us and all, but as you said, ‘what’s over is done.’”

“Separated!” Fordogrim gasped. “What? In there?” He turned to Sarah. “You were alone in there?” Sarah assured Fordogrim that it had been far from an alarming experience, and to prove it she showed him the mushrooms that she had collected. Fordogrim was stunned. To be alone in that forest at night, and to have thought of nothing more than collecting mushrooms – such grit was well beyond what he had thought he could expect of her. He turned his attention to Harold again, saying. “Well you are a wooden-headed ninny if ever I’ve known one! What kind of a husband goes and loses his wife in a place such as that?” Harold made a non-committal noise and directed his father’s steps toward their camp.

After a moment’s pause Fordogrim turned to Sarah and asked if she had any plans for the mushrooms. Sarah looked at him sideways and said slowly, “No, Father Chubb, I haven’t – not exactly. Why?”

“Well,” Fordogrim said as casually as he could, “I know that my Harold likes a mushroom pie, and I’ll not deny as I’m fond on them as well. I do realise that it would be hard to make one out here without a proper stove and all, but if you think you could manage it, I. . .well, Harold I mean. . .would be grateful. Wouldn’t you son?”

Harold nodded greedily.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Harold had winced when his father had called him a “wooden headed ninny”. Since a bickering match with Fordogrim for the rest of the trip seemed very unappealing, he swallowed his pride and listened to his father’s rant. Still, Harold's irritation abated considerably when Fordogrim asked Sarah to make a mushroom pie. Harold savored in his mind a picture of his wife’s famous mushroom pie, and felt his stomach groan. Eager to appease his hunger, he nodded greedily when Fordogrim inquired if he would appreciate one. Maybe it was a good thing that Sarah wandered off after all.

“ Grandpa Fordo, I have a piece of very exciting news that I would like the whole family to hear.”

Harold turned in the direction of the children and called them over.

He waited for the children to join the rest of the family. Beaming, Harold addressed the entire family, “Everyone, I have a very exciting piece of news. While in the forest, Sarah gathered a bunch of mushrooms and now she will be able to make her delicious mushroom pie. But, I also have another piece of news, perhaps even more interesting. On our trip to get firewood, Kalimac asked me if May and Henry wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on his two little ones. I told him that you would not watch his children unless he paid you, which is only the fair thing. Why should the children have to do work if they do not get something for their services?"

" May, Henry, I want you to know that I do not expect you to take this task lightly. If you accept his offer, you must be diligent and dedicated and take your work seriously. Unless I feel that you have done a good job, I will tell Kalimac to keep his money. I am giving you this opportunity because I feel that you are responsible enough to handle it; please do not disappoint me. You are growing up and it is time that you start taking your work seriously. So what do you say? Are you willing to make the effort and earn your pay?"

[Witch_Queen]

While Harold was telling the kids about Kalimac's offer Sarah began to think about how she was going to make her famous mushroom pie when she didn't have an oven. Improvise. Sarah had already decided that she should get up the next morning and make them all some breakfast. She knew she would need to begin a fire is she wanted to make a pie before they left the campsite in the morning. She placed the mushrooms in the cart and began to gather the ingrediants together. The fire would have to be started if Sarah was to begin cooking.

Sarah looked to Grandpa Fordo. "Grandpa will you help me start the fire if I am to begin that mushroom pie for you and your son." A pie did sound good to her right now. She look to see that the children were smiling. Perhaps maybe they would take some responsibility so she wouldn't have to worry about them so much. In the back of her mind Sarah was going over all the ingrediants she would need and what she was going to do about breakfast the next morning.

[alaklondewen]

When their father had proposed babysitting, Henry and May had quickly agreed. Henry had often helped his father on the Whitfoot land, but the boy had never been paid before…for anything. The prospect of having real money, that wasn’t just a couple of pennies from his father for being good, seemed surreal to the young hobbit.

The money had been all Henry was worried about the night before, but now that the morning sun was rising, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to spend his time watching those Whitfoot kids. He had wanted to do some exploring the next time they stopped…maybe into the forest a bit. The night before he’d heard some queer tales about that place, and he wanted to check it out for himself. But not with those Whitfoots around…I won’t be able to do anything! He glanced over toward Alora and Crispin. The lass was kind of cute, but he bet that Crispin would keep him busy. I bet I have to entertain that kid everywhere we go. Henry sighed and pulled his knees up to his chin. This was going to be a long trip.

Sitting with his back against the wagon’s wheel, he turned his attention to his mother who was hurrying around the fire making breakfast. He could still taste the mushroom pie from the night before, and he was certainly looking forward to what she would prepare this morning. His mother had always been a great cook and knew how to make due with what little provisions they had.

Looking around the circle, Henry saw that most of the travelers were up, packing, and preparing small breakfasts for their families. May, however, was still stretched out sleeping in her makeshift bed. Henry was very curious as to what she thought of all this babysitting talk. Deciding he didn’t want to wait any longer for her to awaken (and because it would give his stomach a break from watching his mother cook), the young hobbit decided May a slept long enough. Pulling himself up slowly with the weight of the wagon, he tiptoed to where May laid slumbering peacefully. Henry, after searching the ground a moment, saw his Grandpa’s cane leaning against the back of the wagon. Grandpa Fordo was sitting in the back of the cart, apparently dozing. The young hobbit quietly snatched his grandfather’s cane and proceeded to poke his sister in the ribs. At first he prodded gently, but when May did not respond, Henry jabbed her avidly until she cried out.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Henry smiled over his sister and quickly placed the cane behind his back.

[ArwenBaggins]

"Baby-sat! Why, I'm almost thirteen! I don' need ta be watched by somebody else! Tha CHUBBS 'specially! Lord...," Crispin plucked the straw from his mouth and stopped away from his father.


Finding a nearby dead treestump, Crispin fell effortlessly on it and put his curly head into his hands. Strands of hair flew into his face obstructing his view. He angrily pushed them away, scratching his face in the process. "Stupid... this is all stupid. Papa probably thinks I'll get lost when I'm explorin' or somethin'. I'm notta baby like Alora," He gritted his teeth and picked up a rock from beneath his feet.

A squirrel sitting in the tree overhead laughed gaily, clutching the walnut in its hands. "Stupid bloody beast," He slugged the rock at the animal and made it scamper away.

[Memory of Trees]

May was wandering through their cozy little house back in Bree, letting the comfortable feeling of home seep into her bones. Her parents had decided to turn back after all! May sighed dreamily. Everything was exactly as it should be – the furniture, the warm, clean smell of the cottage, even the shadows below the windows were just how she had known them all her life. May stepped out the door and into the radiant sunshine. She knelt down my the little flower garden by the front of the house, and cupped the blossom of a smiling daffodil in her hands, drawing it close to her eager face. May breathed in deep the fragrant aroma of… mushrooms? And suddenly the pretty little flower turned into stick and poked her hard in the side. May yelped in surprise as the stick hit her again, harder!

May jerked awake, her fingers closing instinctively around the stick. Both eyes popped open, and she was staring into Henry’s cheeky face. “Oh, good,” he said, smiling impishly. “You’re awake!”

May sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Yes, I’m awake, little brother,” May said, her voice dripping with syrupy sarcasm. “And you, my friend, are going to pay very, very dearly for it!” She jerked the cane away from him and leapt from the bed with a wild cry.

Henry jumped back and took off running with May in hot pursuit. “Get back here, you little rogue!” she yelled playfully, brandishing the stick with a dramatically comic air. Henry gave a whoop and bounded off the back of the wagon. May was right on his heels, roaring outrageous threats as she chased him around the wagon.

As they rounded the other side of the wagon, Henry ran smack into the sleeping Grandpa Fordo, or Forgo, as May called him. May crashed headlong into her brother, and they both tumbled breathlessly to the ground. “Eh? What’s this?” said Fordo crankily. “What’re you doing with my cane, May? Here, give that back!” Their grandfather snatched the gnarled stick away from his disheveled granddaughter. “Now what’s this all about?” he demanded, squinting fiercely at the two of them.

May tried to explain between fits of giggles. “Well, you see… haha… Henry… oh hoho… he was chasing me… whooohahaha… or rather I… haha… was chasing him… hehehe… but he… poked me… up!” At this point both May and Henry dissolved in a helpless laughter so contagious that even Grandpa Forgo couldn’t resist a small smile.

“Ah, well,” he said finally. “I suppose you two had best run along. But no more of this dashing about like headless chickens! Leave an old man to his rest.”

“Okay, Grandpa,” May replied, hauling Henry to his feet. “Sorry abou that!” As they walked away from the old man, May felt something cool and hard against her leg. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the coins her father had given her a few days ago. “Oh, yeah!” She grabbed Henry’s arm, pulling him to a stop. “I keep forgetting. Here, half’s yours!”

Henry’s eyes grew wide as three bright copper coins dropped into his outstretched palm. “Whoa! Where’d you get these, May?”

“Silly! It’s not like I stole them or anything. Daddy gave them to me. Said we could spend them however we like. I plan to save mine, along with whatever I earn babysitting those Whitfoot children.”

“You’re going to do it, then?” Henry asked.

“You know I am - I already told Daddy that. You were there!”

Henry grinned. “I know. I just wasn’t sure if you just said yes, or if you really meant yes, if you know what I mean.” He paused and frowned up at her. “I surprised that you would want to work for the Whitfoots, I guess.”

May took the time to inspect her shoe before answering. “I suppose I don’t, not really. But it’s okay to work for them, because they’re paying us, so it’s not as if we’re their servants or anything.” She stopped, her eyes scanning the horizon. “Besides, I need the money,” she added abruptly, eyes still on the sky.

“For what?” Henry said incredulously.

“Oh, I’ve got a few plans,” May replied vaguely, and set off at a brisk walk again. “So, when do you think we’ll be going into that big old forest ?” she inquired, changing the subject.