Sailing Away RPG

[Nurumaiel]

Falco averted his eyes from Sondo and considered. It would be practical to accept the offer. They were taking some time to reach the meeting place, and besides the general inconvenience, there was the personal inconvenience to Falco, having to hobble along on his pained feet. But how could he possibly consent to let Sondo, the one boy who had been mean to him at his return to the camp, help him?

He lifted up his shoulders and let them drop again in a gesture of indifference, and began to walk forward again. His gesture signified that Sondo could help if he wanted to, which, Falco thought, was another way of saying 'yes' without humbling yourself too much.

[Firefoot]

Oh, for goodness' sake, thought Sondo, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Falco might as well just say it: he needed help. Nevertheless, he offered Falco his shoulder and said, "Here; you can lean on me." Falco nodded as if indifferent, but Sondo could see the relief in the other lad.

With Sondo helping to support Falco, they were able to walk a bit quicker. Neither of them said a whole lot, concentrating more on the task at hand. Sondo did not mind helping Falco - he had offered, after all - but he was at least a little annoyed by Falco's pride. Never had he apologized since returning to their camp, and now he barely responded to the offer of help, much less friendship. And until he did any of those, Sondo could not fully trust him. He wasn't even fully convinced that Falco really wanted to join the group again.

When they finally reached the trees, Rory and Marroc were waiting, organizing the supplies taken from the Big Folk. Falco sunk down against a tree trunk. Sondo wondered why it was taking the others so long; he thought that Falco and himself had taken quite some time as it was. He let the others know what he was doing and wandered out to take a look, and saw that Sam and Sassy were approaching, while Reggie and Bingo were still back by the battleground, standing near one of the dead Big Folk. Sondo was too far away to tell much more than that. He wasn't in a hurry, since he figured they wouldn't be getting much farther that day, even if it was only mid-afternoon. Falco clearly needed to rest, and it had been an exciting day for all of them, to say the least. They could build a fire and have a real supper tonight, a celebration of sorts. So he headed back to the other three, figuring they'd get there when they got there.

"Let's get a fire going and cook up a meal," he suggested. "We're not going to go any farther today." Rory got up to help him gather wood while Marroc continued to go through their newly-acquired food. Soon a merry fire was crackling. They speared strips of meat on sharp sticks and began to roast them over the fire. Sondo's mouth began to water as the scent of cooking meat filled the air. They would be eating well from now on.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo had concurred with his brother's suggestion that the two of them gather up the knives and other weapons that the ruffians had been carrying. With the hobbits having lost much of the gear that they had originally brought from Buckland, they could use every replacement that they could find. The two of them had gone around together and systematically collected what was still left on the bodies: an assortment of knives of varying sizes, but also several long swords that were too long and bulky to do either of them or their companions any good.

Bingo had taken one of the smaller knives as his own. He was not thinking so much of using it in a fight, but it would come in handy for gutting fish or small animals, or performing other chores. His brother chose another for himself, and then the two of them walked back towards the grove where Sondo was gathering the rest of the group. A bright fire was lit and, even from this distance, Bingo caught a good whiff of food cooking. At least they would eat well for the first time in days!

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy makes her way back to the group

Her pockets were full of stones; they hung heavily against her legs, banging rhythmically against her thighs as she walked along. It was good that her pockets were full, but her tummy, on the other hand, was quite empty. Sassy dug deep into the pockets of her vest and searched through her tattered little pack . . . nothing . . .

‘I wonder if the others found any food,’ she sighed, stopping to try and get her bearings. Her little hands were on her hips as she turned in a circle trying to decide where she was and where the others were. She spied a fairly tall rocky outcropping a little ways away from her. Climbing up to the top of it she squinted into the distance until she saw the smoke rising from a campfire. It must be Sondo and the others, she thought, but even if it weren’t them she was going to go there. She would find some way to get some food, even if she had to beg or steal.

It was growing dark by the time Sassy reached the source of the fire. Sassy snuck up quietly and crouched down behind a clump of bushes a little ways away. She could hear hear the voices of people talking to each other . . . and she knew them! It was her companions. Sassy stood up, taking a close look at the group. There didn’t see to be any of the Big Folk about. With a quiet sigh of relief she made her way to the edge of the group as they sat about, eating.

Without a word or nod to anyone, Sassy took a chunk of bread from one of the dishes and a thick slice of smoked pork from another. She sat by herself, her eyes looking warily into the shadows. She was tired and on edge, not just from the events of the day, but of this whole ‘adventure’. She didn’t know if she could stand anymore surprises.

[Firefoot]

As each hobbit trickled into their camp, each helped himself (or herself) to the biscuits, dried fruit, and roasted meat. For the first time since the raft had crashed, they were able to eat until they were full, and everyone was finally able to sit back contentedly. It was at this point when Bingo voiced his opinion that something ought to be done with the Big Folk’s bodies.

Sondo nodded thoughtfully. Even if they were ruffians, it really wasn’t right to just leave their bodies to rot. “I think we should be able to burn them,” he agreed. The others nodded or voiced their agreement. “We better hurry, though,” he added, glancing toward the westering sun. “It will be dark soon.” So they set out to gather the bodies together so that they could be burned, bringing with them a burning branch from their campfire so they would not have to light another fire. Sondo realized that Falco would not be able to help. He stayed behind a moment and told Falco, “It’s all right if you stay here; I understand. You can watch the fire or something. If you want, you could get an inventory of what supplies we have.” They he hurried off after the others before Falco could respond.

The hobbits had already started to move the two Big Folk closest to their camp together. The men were quite large and heavy, and several hobbits were needed just to drag one.

“You know, those other three Big Folk are laying way over there,” observed Reggie. “It might be easier if we were to burn them in two piles, rather than drag those three all the way over here.”

“The fires would be smaller, too,” someone chipped in. The proposition made sense, and so it was decided that they would build two smaller fires. Soon they had piled the Big Folk accordingly, and it was time to light the fires. Certainly it was nothing fancy; Sondo figured they were doing enough in burning the bodies, and that they didn’t need to give them a real funeral. To make sure the fires did not get out of control, the hobbits kept their eyes on them, but from a distance as the smell of burning flesh and cloth was hardly pleasant.

The short trek back to camp was mostly quiet. The sun had set, leaving the world in a dim twilight. Once they returned, some stayed up and talked for a while, but slowly they all turned in for the night. It had been a long day for all of them.

~*~*~*~

Sondo awoke the next morning just as the sun’s first rays crested the horizon. He didn’t get up right away, but laid in place for a while listening to the birds sing and watching the sky slowly turning bluer. When he heard some of the others rustling around a bit, he rose and prodded at the fire with a stick. It hadn’t gone out, but only a few hot embers remained. He figured they could eat what meat they had left over from last night, so they wouldn’t need to use the fire again this morning. He did nothing to revive the fire and joined a few of the others who were digging some breakfast out of the packs. They ate a good meal, though they didn’t stuff themselves again as they had last night. The food still had to last until they got home, so it was back to travel rations.

Once everyone was up and had eaten, they had to figure out how they were going to carry their new supplies. There were very few packs among them, but those they stuffed and agreed to switch off carrying them. The rest of the supplies were folded up inside the blankets again and rigged up so that one person could carry each with reasonable ease. Then they were ready to set out.

Fortunately, Falco’s legs were feeling better this morning, as near as Sondo could tell. He had asked, and Falco had shrugged and made a noncommital sound. “Well, if you’re getting tired again, say something,” Sondo had replied and left it at that. Falco’s attitude was irking him again, and he paid little more attention to the other lad.

They had barely been walking for an hour when a dark line appeared across the horizon. As they drew closer, they realized that there could be no doubt: this was the Old Forest. This revelation was met with varying reactions. On one hand, it meant they were getting close to home. However... the Old Forest was a bad place. Sondo had heard stories, many of which he doubted were true, but the stories had to come from somewhere. Something was wrong with those trees, and nothing else lived there. Yes, the Old Forest was a dark place, and, stories being true or not, Sondo feared the place like he feared little else.

“Well, I guess we start heading more west, now,” mentioned Sondo during their lunch break. “Right now we’re just heading straight for the forest. Maybe we’ll even find the Brandywine again.” So after lunch they traded off packs and set off toward the northwest. Sondo intentionally set a slower pace than what they had been travelling in former days for Falco, who still had not complained but seemed to be getting more worn out again. Sondo soon forgot about Falco, however, as he noticed a slight change in the landscape. It was subtle, but the farther north they got the odder the shift seemed to him. It was almost as if the land was shaped so that it would be easier to go due north. Sondo tried to throw it off as the Forest playing tricks on his mind, but instead he became more and more convinced. For example, the slight rise and fall of the land was such that the land seemed almost furrowed, like a giant rake had been run over the earth. It was not enough to inhibit their travel, really, but confused him nonetheless.

He decided it was too much to ignore when they finally crossed what was tall enough to be considered a low hill. He glanced back at the hobbits, his gaze landing on Bingo. Bingo had always seemed fair knowledgeable about the land and such, and Sondo didn’t think he would call him crazy either. He dropped back and fell into step with Bingo.

He asked softly, “Bingo, does there seem to be anything... strange about the land around here to you?”

[Child of the 7th Age]

“Strange?” Bingo’s voice trailed off as he echoed the central query that Sondo had put to him. “ I’d say there are plenty of strange things about this place. I don’t know if it’s the trees or the land but something is pushing us northward. It’s almost as if we were a herd of sheep, with a herder that’s prodding and pulling us exactly where he wants to go. To be truthful, I don’t like this place. I’d rather veer west and walk down by the river, but there doesn’t seem to be a way of doing that.”

In the last few minutes of their trek, the trees bordering the path had gotten taller and more dense. Bingo wasn’t sure if they were actually in the Old Forest or still on the outskirts. The trunks of the trees looming over them were of varying sizes and shapes; some even had branches hanging low over the trail that seemed to thrust out a limb directly in the path of the unwary traveler. Bingo suddenly remembered stories he’d heard about the Old Forest and how it had goblins and trees that attacked the unsuspecting. He’d never believe any of those till now.

At the very moment when Bingo was thinking how much he disliked being in the forest, a large tree root jutted upward from nowhere and sent him sprawling on the ground, much to his embarrassment and discomfort. Sondo reached out a hand to help pull him up. Once he regained his footing, Bingo noted with a sigh, “Wherever and whatever this place is, I think we’d better hurry along and find a way out. I wouldn’t want to be here after nightfall.” Bingo glanced at his companions and wondered how they were feeling about all this. At least there hadn’t been too much grumbling so far. But he thought he saw shadows of unease mirrored on several of their faces, and Falco looked to be especially tired and wary.

[Primrose Bolger]

Walking along in the Old Forest . . .

‘Out of the frying pan, into the fire . . .’ Sassy could just hear her Gammer saying that old saw. And now Sassy understood it. The wolves and Big Folk had gone away, one way or the other. But these trees . . . they crowded in on her with their dark branches and shadowed trunks. The possibility of getting away from the thick closeness that closed in around them seemed to diminish with each step the group took on the mouldering dried leaves that covered the forest floor.

‘I am never going on another adventure again,’ she muttered. ‘I’m never even going to think about going on another one . . . ever!’

And what were these boys and her brother thinking? Seems they didn’t care a bit about the fact that they’d almost been killed by wolves and gosh knows what by the Big Folk ruffians. How could they shrug that off, she wondered.

Worse yet, she had seen some of them take things from the dead men. Stories from her Gammer about those dead men of old in their mossy green barrows on those Downs somewhere made her shiver. What if those Big Folk that just died came after their things . . . reached out for them in the night with the bony fingers of their fleshless hands? Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She wouldn’t throw up again. Probably just get a laugh from some of the boys and a disgusted look from her brother.

She looked round at the others in a sly manner as they tramped along; sliding her eyes from figure to figure. The light from above barely filtered through the thick branches of the trees. It cast a gloomy pall on the group, sliding in pale, murky bars over the moving Hobbits. Sometimes she could see one of the boys or another as the light heightened their features . . . but their eyes, if they turned her way, were always deep pools of shadow . . . and sometimes they seemed to slide into the shadows altogether where the light did not penetrate. Sometimes her imagination got the better of her and she wondered if she had fallen into one of the scary old stories her Gammer had told at night near the little fire in the kitchen.

And save for their footsteps, it was so very quiet. Oppressively so . . . Sassy was frightened to the bone.

‘Shhh!’ she told herself, clenching her jaw together to stop her teeth from chattering. ‘Just watch out for yourself, Sassafras,’ she thought firmly. ‘Keep your eyes on what’s about you and step along.’ If she didn’t feel brave, she could at least look it.

‘And watch out for the goblins,’ she murmured to herself, drawing her now raggedy cloak about her, her eyes darting round her as she tramped on.

And old piece of verse from one of Gammer’s tales rattled in her little head as her toes crunched through the dried leaves; a little story of a little girl who didn’t care what others thought and always did what she wanted . . . and then just when she wasn’t looking out . . .

They was two great Black Things
a-standin’ by her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’
‘fore she knowed what she’s about!

An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git YOU

Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!


---------

verse courtesy of James Whitcome Riley - "Little Orphan Annie"