Farmer in the Dale RPG

[Pippin Pondlily]

Esmerelda was startled by a knock on the door. She had dozed in one of the chairs in the living room of the Millwinds' house while Eli and Daisy slept. It was still early in the day. The rest of her family had left to find Eric a couple hours ago while she stayed home with the two littlest ones. She stood and approached the door, swinging it open quietly.

"Willow?"

Esmerelda smiled. "No, Cherry, it's me."

"Oh, Esmerelda!" Cherry was a hefty woman in her mid-fifties, her children all grown and gone but a dear friend of the Whitfields and the Millwinds. "How is the family? I've just come by to see if everyone's alright before we get on our way."

Esmerelda frowned. "On your way?"

Cherry nodded heartily and tightened her shawl about her shoulders against the rising wind. "Aye, there's no staying in Dale for my family. We're all going Southeast to Esgaroth. That dragon'll be back and with a mind for total obliteration. Don't want to be around for that ye know." She looked tired and frazzled, her messy brown hair falling out of its bun. "You should be coming too. I'd hate for two wonderful families such as yours and your brother's sisters to be left at the mercy of that thing." Esmerelda nodded, her eyes were sad at the thought of leaving. Cherry looked past Esmerelda into the house. "They're not here?" she asked, concern rising in her face.

Esmerelda shook her head. "No, they left a couple hours ago, Rhys, Arinn, Willow, Elian and Elanor too look for Eric. Daisy and little Eli are sleeping here though."

"Poor Eric!" cried Cherry clapping her hands to her face.

"Ah," said Esmerelda, "I think he's a brave boy and I have faith that he'll be found safe and sound. They're probably heading home even at this minute."

Cherry winked and smiled. "You're a brave woman, Esmerelda." She gave her a warm hug. "We'll meet in Esgaroth, then, eh?"

Esmerelda nodded slowly. "Yes, I guess so…"

"Goodbye dear, take care."

Esmerelda shut the door and leaned her back against it. Leave Dale. It made sense, it really did. But how, in what manner, would they do so? Pack a wagon and hitch up horses piling their belongings in the back? Would they walk with bags over their shoulders, their pockets stuffed with food? And what about crossing the lake? She definitely wasn't sure of how they'd do any of these things, but she was starting to get an idea of what they'd need. She could make herself useful by beginning to gather them up while the others were out.

She went into the small bedroom and roused Daisy. "My dear, I'm going to go over to our house and get a few things. Will you be alright here with Eli or do you want to come with me?"

Daisy yawned. "We'll be fine, Mum." Esmerelda smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead.

She ran quickly over to her homestead. She passed the laundry cauldron on its side in the lawn. The clothes that had been inside were strewn about, soaked in mud and ruined. There were but a few clothes, covered now in dust that hung on the line flapping idly in the breeze. She abandoned these and went inside, hoping there were at least some things that could be of use.

Luckily there were still a couple clean clothes in her children's trunks. These she took out and folded, placing them into a leather saddlebag along with a cloak apiece. She did the same for herself and Rhysdan, working as fast as she could. Once clothes were packed she went into the kitchen and rummaged through her pantry, taking things such as dried fruit, bread, hard cheese, and a block of tea--things that would travel. She ran about the house again picking up a handful of things that they would surely need and one or two that were of sentimental value.

In the end she had four bags: perfect. And who knew, maybe they would find a way to take all of their belongings--it all depended on when the dragon was to return.

Once back at the Millwinds she found Daisy and Eli awake and anxious about the missing family members.

"When do you think they'll come back?" Daisy asked.

"When they've found Eric, dear." Esmerelda said it with such assuredness that Daisy and Eli were quite convinced that the boy would be found. Around noon they looked to the west for their families …

[Child of the 7th Age]

The Millwinds and Whitfields who now trekked back to their homes were in considerably better spirits than when they had left that morning. Even so, there was still the problem of the wyrm. No one knew if the winged creature had made his last strike and decided to fly off to other parts, or whether he would revisit Dale shortly to launch another attack. Willow was careful to keep a close eye on Eric to make certain he did not stray too far from the path, all the while thinking and wondering what they should do next.

The answer came sooner than expected. Much of their return trek lay close to the river. The group intended to head south along its bank and then swing east directly to their farmstead. Just before they reached the spot where the path curved round, they were surprised to look back and see a contingent of small boats paddling speedily to the south.

"Haloo, there!" A voice carried over the water in their direction. "Farmer Millwood, is that you?" Arlinn turned about and recognized the face of an acquaintance. He waved a hand and stopped to listen to what the man was saying.

"You're heading in the wrong direction. Some of the Dwarves came to town this morning. The wyrm has taken up residence in the Lonely Mountain and sits on a hoard of gold. He has driven them out of their home. This creature--Smaug--calls himself the new master of Erebor and Dale!"

"Then, where shall we all go if this monstor will not leave? Where are you going?" Willow interrupted.

"Many in town have decided to travel south to Long Lake and the town of Esgaroth, hoping things will be safer there. Some have gone off on their own, but many are gathering in the city to travel in a large group, thinking that would be safer."

Willow and Arlinn exchanged a quick glance but said nothing out loud. After offering their goodbyes to the boatmen, they quickly turned, veered westward on the lane and, in a short time, had arrived back at the farm.

"What shall we do?" whispered Elanor to her mother. "Are we heading to Long Lake on our own or joining up with the group that leaves from Dale? Or should we just stay here and wait?"

Her mother sighed and shook her head. "We shall see what your father and Uncle Rhysdan decide."

[ArwenBaggins]

Arinn opened the door and held it so the family could enter the home. Eli jumped up and hugged his father and mother tightly, quickly moving to hug Eric without one bit of embarassment. "I'm sorry..." he said simply, his lip pouting. "Don't ever run 'way an' get lost 'gain, okay?"

Arinn smiled a bit and bit a hand on Eli's shoulder, and then Eric's. "Now, you two can say you're 'I'm sorry's' later. We grown-ups need to talk." With the final words he looked around to the adults in the group. "We need to talk about what we should do- flee south or stay and wait everything out."

No one said anything, but by the looks on the women's faces he could tell what needed to be done. He himself wanted to go, but couldn't bare leaving his home and coming back with only a pile of dying embers. "Maybe we could join up with the party heading to Esgaroth and Long Lake; mind you, we must move quickly." Looking around, Arinn noticed that Esmerelda had already started packing some provisions.

"Sounds good to me," Rhysdan said plainly.

Arinn nodded and looked to Willow. He could see the worry on her face, but he could also see that she was trying to be strong. He took a few steps forward and put his hand around her waist in a sign of comfort and love, but they were both still very shaky and disturbed. "Start gathering things we will need for the trek, and I will go and get a wagon. Hurry as fast as you can. We need to leave and meet up with the group." He swallowed hard, but tried to keep his voice unwavering.

Nearly twenty minutes had now past, but Arinn had hooked up a wagon and loaded in all of the possessions being taken. He helped the young ones into the back of the wagon; a quick rearing of the horse took his attention away from everyone else. Deciding that the adults were fully capable of doing whatever they wished to do, he mounted the painted steed and looked back. "Here we go..." he said softly as a warning to anyone standing. "We can only hope our farms will be still be standing when we return."

Looking back at the deserted house was heart-jerking. Cows and horses were roaming randomly, and several singe marks dotted the nearby landscape. He could only trust in hope that they could return to Dale; soon or later, he didn't care. He only wanted to be able to go home.

[Kransha]

The attack on Erebor was completed, at least for the most part. Smaug had yet to fully clear out the inside of the mountain, but the damage he had wrought on its once-mighty walls would surely suffice to clear out most pockets of Dwarven resistance. Now, the already half-destroyed town of Dale would feel the full and unmitigated wroth of Smaug the Magnificent. His gargantuan wingspan stretched to its fullest, the dragon’s shadow loomed wickedly, as a hovering storm cloud waiting to burst, over the streets. Low he veered, wings unmoving and swaying gently up and down with the movement of his form. His jaws snapped together several times eagerly, puffs of coal-black smoke pouring out at random intervals. Deep in the well of his throat loomed a monstrous crimson light, fringed by dull gold, the color of searing fire that threatened to pour out of the beast’s open mouth and erupt in a single, volcanic flourish onto the town below. He aimed himself at various blocks, each dotted with unready homesteads. His eyes, honed like beams of sunlight, fell upon one such section of the town and the dragon plowed heedlessly through the air towards it, not breathing, the light in his throat growing steadily brighter.

At last he let loose, and without relent. A single, mighty pillar of luminous flame burst through his jagged teeth, spilling forth onto the houses that were just beneath and before him. In an instant the pale colors of the houses’ walls were turned to pitch-black and sickly brown, charred away by the flames. Straw and thatch that made up various roofs was burnt from existence, leaving bare, opened shells were residences had been moments before. He passed over the patch of wreckage, his blinking eyes taking a weary but satisfied glance down at the blackened earth and scorched structures. His satisfaction increased significantly as he heard the bewildered and terrified screams of bystanders and citizens scattering through the streets, searching in vain for refuge or sanctuary from the incurring dragon. Smaug smiled grimly, still belching monumental plumes of smoke. This was only a small sample of his power. Still grinning eerily, the dragon swerved on his wing, executing a hairpin turn, and doubled back on the blocks he’d already halfway leveled.

Letting his lower jaw loll open again, another tremendous burst of fire, a bright red column pierced the earth. The crumbling walls of the houses on that block seemed to melt beneath the heated strain of the flames. Even the black-scorched ground beneath the ruins turned to sandy dust, whipped away easily in the gust that followed Smaug’s attack. As the dragon bore himself regally over the seen of destruction, all that lay beneath him was a barren ring of nothingness, surrounding on all sides by untouched civilization which seemed out of place silhouetted against the carnage. His tail curled playfully, dragging through the heated air, as if to suggest the pleasure he derived from the brutal havoc he wrought. He spun, overlooking the town and carefully examining each street, path, and building. Screams and shouts rent the disquieted air for the second time, much to Smaug’s enjoyment. The dragon swooped over Dale, searching for a spot to continue…

He decided to pick randomly, as the dragon had no need for care or precision. Wreaking havoc was art as far as Smaug the Golden was concerned, and the picture he painted beneath him was most beautiful to his eyes, but it did not require too much care, for that would take all the pleasure out of the endeavor. Spying a larger, several-story building with clustered structures swarming around it in an uneven circle, Smaug whipped himself up and down, wings no longer battling the windy air after clearing the thick smoke, and headed towards that area. In barely a moment, he was near enough to breathe his torrential fire down on central house, creating a focal point for his flaming typhoon that quickly enveloped all the buildings surrounding.

Quickly he swiveled again in mid-air, doubling over backwards, and breathed again, his stomach and throat depressing as the fire-laced air poured out of him. The wreckage and ruin of the devastated area was cleansed again by the flames, and the living things in the vicinity easily expunged. Slowly, eying his work in a less-than-satisfied manner, Smaug flew up and swooped down, summoning his flames to deal with as many buildings as he could until the town was pockmarked by gaping scorch marks, black as night. Steadily, Smaug the Golden searched for more interesting prey. The people in the streets were grouping together and fleeing, though none were safe, many had taken refuge in some sheltering zone, to Smaug’s chagrin, but many still roamed the streets in a panic. Smaug decided that, now that the town was devastated and crippled, he could have some real fun…

[Fallinel]

Once the decision had been made to join the exodus from Dale, Rhysdan raced to his homestead to retrieve the large wagon and remaining livestock. He was grateful that Esmerelda had previously packed clothes, food, and small items, and the four bags were already at the Millwind farmhouse. Working quickly, but without nervousness so as to avoid frightening the animals, Rhysdan hitched the two roan oxen to a large wagon, and urged the animals to pull it near the small pens and paddocks. The back portion of the wagon was divided into several compartments for hauling lambs to market, and Rhysdan placed two of the ewes with their lambs into these areas. He quickly caught several of Esmerelda's laying hens, as well as the rooster, and rather unceremoniously contained them within a large overturned basket in the remaining wagon compartment. Rosebush, the children's bay pony, and Granite, a stout horse who was used for plowing and riding, were tied to the back of the wagon and could trot along behind. The dairy cow, whose calf had been taken by the dragon, would also follow behind the wagon. Rhysdan quickly threw a few bales of hay and a barrel of oats into the wagon, and hopped up onto the seat, calling Hawkweed to jump up as well. He twitched the reins and clucked to the pair of oxen, and drove back to the Millwind farm.

Once at the Millwind homestead, Rhysdan helped his wife and daughter onto the wagon, and Elian placed the bags that Esmerelda had packed behind the seat. The Whitfield family wagon fell in behind that of the Millwinds as they headed into Dale, filled with uncertainty and fear rather than the usual excitement and optimism of a journey into the market town. From the homesteads, it was not far to Dale, and the road was wide and smooth, so the pair of wagons made good progress. As they neared the outskirts of town, Arinn called the wagons to a halt, and both he and Rhysdan stood up on the seats and scanned the view in front of them. Behind the wagon, the pony and the horse flared their nostrils and pranced nervously, and Hawkweed's pinkish-brown nose twitched at a disturbing faint scent.

"What is it, Pappa?" asked Elian, "I see smoke rising from the center of town!" Rhysdan nodded, "I don't like the looks of this, Elian-I think that dragon has attacked Dale. I saw it fly overhead this morning." Rhysdan called out to Arinn, "Let's make our way to the warehouse if we can. Dale seems to have been targeted by that winged beast, and I doubt it will be safe to stay there." Arinn signaled his agreement, and the two men sat down and urged their animals forward with the wagons.

As they approached the town of Dale proper, it was clear to everyone in the Millwind and Whitfield families that the once-bustling trade hub would never be the same. Gone was the famous Toy Market, with all its magical clockwork animals, musical instruments, miniature boats and wagons, dolls and dollhouses. Many of the beautiful buildings had collapsed, or were flattened and incinerated completely. Women and children, faces blackened with soot and hair singed by the dragon's flames, wandered the streets, confused and weeping. Daisy was very upset by this sight, and hid her face in Esmerelda's lap. The great Dwarven-wrought bells on the yoke of the roan oxen made a mournful sound as the wagons progressed through the ruined streets of Dale.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Elanor glanced around with trepidation as the two wagons slowly advanced through the city's crowded streets. This looked nothing like the cheerful market town that she remembered. Men and women were running everywhere, laden down with houshold goods or carrying children on their backs and in their arms as they tried to make their escape.

She could see that a number of buildings were in total ruins. Some had roofs sagging down or walls with gaping holes. One entire block just to the rear of the market square had earlier caught fire and was now burning out of control. The fumes and smoke lay heavy over the city making it difficult for her to breath.

The wyrm had apparently focused his attack on the city's central square where the main warehouses and shops were situated; these were adjacent to the royal palace and grounds. She had often been here with her father on market days. The family's grain was stored in a small warehouse at the end of the row, right next to the stables that belonged to Girion, King of Dale. In fact the rear of the two buildings, the royal stables and the grain warehouse, shared a common private courtyard, a very small entryway where it was possible to load a wagon or two, or to ride out on horseback. Normally, the farmers avoided this back lane out of courtesy to the royal family. However, Elanor could remember standing by the courtyard gate and watching as Girion rode out on horseback with his family: his wife, two daughters and a son, all attired in the finest of clothes.

As was the general practice, their own wagons approached the warehouse not from the courtyard but from the regular public entrance that faced onto the street. There was a huge line of carts and wagons already in line ahead of them, all awaiting their turn to go inside and retrieve their grain. Elanor watched as her father disappeared into the building and then came out again, shaking his head in frustration. He explained that they must go around the other way through the private courtyard, since there were too many farmers crowded at the main entrance. Moreover, they had been told to work as fast as they could. The fire was burning perilously close and, if the wind should shift, they would all be in danger.

Hearing these grim words, they quickly turned their wagons around and rumbled through the alleyway until they came to a small gate that led down to the courtyard. They had no trouble getting through here, since the lane and courtyard were virtually deserted. The wagon was brought inside and backed up against the small silo where the families' grain and hay was stored. While her father and Uncle Rhysdan rushed to transfer the grain into the wagons, Elanor and Elian went over to fill their water bottles from a small well that stood in the middle of the courtyard. Her mother had told them to keep an eye on Eric and Daisy, but somehow with all the excitement they had forgotten about this.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Eric stood in the courtyard watching his father load the grain into the wagon. He would have liked to help, but this was a job that would take somebody bigger and older. He gazed at the door of the stables that opened onto the courtyard, wondering what sort of wonderful horses the King would have. For a moment he wanted to run off on his own and push open the door and go exploring. But then he remembered the last time he'd gone exploring, things hadn't worked out too good. He'd better stay here and wait patiently till the grown ups had finished.

He thought of going and playing with Eli, but his twin had fallen asleep curled up on mother's lap. So he went over to Daisy instead. She was two years older and, worst of all, she was a girl, but still she was better than nobody. He took out three of his prized rocks that sparkeled almost as brightly as jewels and offered her one of them. But before the two children could begin talking or playing, there was a sudden moaning sound, loud and insistent, coming from somewhere deep within the stables. It sounded very much like a young child who was crying and in desperate need of help.

"Somebody's in trouble! Bad trouble!" Eric noted. "Just like I was. We need to help them." Eric looked around for someone big to help, but everyone seemed to be loading grain or drawing water at the well. He could stay here and do nothing and let the child cry, or he could go and try to help.

He made his decision very quickly and sprang to his feet. "Come with me, Daisy. Some kid is in trouble. We've got to help them. Or are you too much of a cry baby?" he taunted. Daisy did not answer but quickly ran after Eric as her cousin sprinted through the stable door.

***********************

The two children scurried forward through the aisles. Some of the stalls were empty. Apparently, the royal grooms and trainers had already removed a number of the horses and sent them to Long Lake. Worst of all, everything was dark. They could barely see an inch in front of their face. The stable was a big place, and Eric had no idea where he was going. He ran up and down trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.

Daisy was the first to figure out what had happened. Taller and older, she sprinted ahead and called back to Eric to come quickly. To her surprise she had found three young children: two girls and a boy, each wearing the livery of the royal house. Eric came running in just behind his cousin, hardly believing what he was seeing. His jaw dropped open in disbelief. These were King Garion's children!

"How did you get here?" Eric questioned.

"We came to try and rescue our ponies," the older boy explained. "Only our ponies weren't here and then this happened."

He pointed towards the ceiling. There was a jagged hole in the roof where the wyrm had made his latest attack. The thatching on the roof was burning, and one of the smaller beams had eveidently given way and come crashing to the ground. It had come down on top of little Layla's ankle. The girl was pinned down and could not move. Her brother and sister had tried to remove the beam but it was too heavy. Even the five of them working together could not budge it.

"Please don't leave me!" Layla moaned. "I hurt bad. And that monstor will come back and eat me."

Eric reassured the little girl that they were not going to leave her alone, and he would drive off the monstor if need be. "I've already driven him off once today," he explained. "Some of us will stay with you. But one or two must run back to the courtyard and get dad and Uncle Rhysdan and the rest of our families to come and help. We'll all have to push together to move this heavy beam."

Eric looked around and asked, "Alright, who wants to go get help?" As they stood there thinking, Eric could see that the fire had already spread. Whoever went to get help had better do so very quickly, he thought.