Sailing Away RPG

[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"

[Boromir88]

Eventhough Sondo had addressed the question to Bingo, Rory felt he needed to chime in as well. "Strange!" exclaimed Rory, "why of course there's something strange about these parts. Can't you tell? I've heard talk that Master Merry, and them, met queer happenings in these woods. And what about Old Maggot? He's-"

Before Rory could finish someone interupted, "Oh stop it Rory. There is definately something queer about these woods, but Maggot is an old fool even queerer for living in near 'em."

"Enough squabbling you two," Sondo said sternly, but not angrily, "We must continue, atleast for a little longer."

Rory walked along near the front, a new strength was in him. He was usually the one lagging behind, but now with nice biscuits in his stomach, and a good sleep he felt invigorated.

Rory looked at Sondo who was leading the way. He didn't like how Sondo sent him and Marroc back to the supplies. He wanted to help Sondo and also get a taste of the action. He was forced to sit and pace, while the wolves were about, and everyone else was in danger. I suppose someone needed to stay back when the others returned, and there was no sense of running around alone with wolves about, but why couldn't I help? He might as well just told me what my pa used to say when he went out, "Who's goin' to look after your Ma if you come with me?" Ma could have looked out for herself, and Marroc could have too, so why couldn't I help? What Rory didn't understand was that Sondo was actually protecting him.

[Firefoot]

Sondo bit his lower lip. Bingo's (invited) and Rory's (uninvited) comments had confirmed his suspicions. There were more forces at work here than simply eight hobbits trying to return home. Something about the very nature of the landscape was against them, driving them on against their will deeper into the forest. The shallow dips they had encountered earlier were becoming ravines, and they were getting harder and harder to climb out of. The hobbits were getting edgy, too, as Rory's scuffle had proven. He glanced around and saw Rory looking at him queerly. Sondo flashed a grin, though it felt weak under the oppressive mood of the forest.

Presently another ravine appeared in front of them as if out of nowhere, the deepest and steepest one they had yet encountered. The opposite side appeared undercut, and Sondo doubted they would be able to climb out the other side.

"I don't think we should try to climb through this one just yet," he said. "Let's try following it south. Maybe it will get shallower." Sondo thought it was south, anyway. He was starting to get turned around. They had gone barely ten yards, however, when it was almost as if the dirt underneath their feet began to crumble away. Feeling himself falling, he scrambled to get his footing. Someone behind him tripped, though, and knocked Sondo over. The ground yawned open in front of him, and he felt himself falling head first as the bottom of the ravine rushed up to greet him. He found himself accompanied by about half their troupe. He could not see over the edge, but all seemed to have settled out.

"What happened?" someone asked behind him. No one had a clear answer, and everyone's tale differed slightly. The only consistency was ending up on the ground, whether in the crag or on top. Sondo looked up hopelessly. No way were they going to be able to climb back up; both sides were slick and undercut, and at least two feet over his head.

"I don't like this," he muttered. The sun was sinking low, and like Bingo he had no desire to be caught in this place at night. Already the Forest was growing more sinister.

"Didn't we have a rope left over from the raft?" he asked. Everyone dug into the supplies, and one skinny rope, perhaps ten feet long, was turned up. An end was let down, and Sondo grabbed ahold. "I'm the lightest," he said, "and I'm not sure this will support me. Try to pull me up, and I'll brace against the sides." He felt the slack go tight, and he was slowly pulled upward. He was about to grasp the edge of the ravine and hoist himself up when someone shouted and the rope slackened again. Sondo fell back to the bottom, and Rory came right behind. "That tree root tripped me!" he complained.

"There goes that plan," sighed Sondo. "The rest of you, stay away from the edge so you don't fall in, too. It looks like we're going to have to follow this ravine after all; the southward way looks impassable." He hesitated, noting the growing shadows. "And everyone? It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard. This place... I'd bet anything that it's far more dangerous to us than those Big Folk ever were."

[Primrose Bolger]

Had her throat not been so dry from lack of water and from hurrying along at breakneck speed on her short little legs, Sassy would have squeaked at what she was hearing. ‘It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard!’ she heard her brother say.’ The shadows of the trunks and limbs grew thicker and thicker. ‘This place... I'd bet anything that it's far more dangerous to us than those Big Folk ever were.’

Sassy made herself as small as she could, pulling her cloak tightly about her. She didn’t want to be touched by those shadows; she didn’t want to spend a dark night here beneath these bad, spiteful trees. With no wind to stir them, a scattering of dry leaves came pattering down on her head. She brushed them quickly from her, casting a mean look up toward the hovering branches. Again the branches moved a little, creaking against one another, laughing rudely at her discomfort as if they could sense her thoughts.

The boys were gathered close to the edgo of the ravine. Sassy eased herself in among them, letting their bodies shield her from the forest. She found herself standing near Falco. Curious at how he was taking the news of spending the night here, she glanced up at him. He didn’t look as brave as he had back at the river . . . but a small, shrewd look crossed his face once, and was as quickly smothered, as Sondo talked.

Perhaps she should keep an eye on him . . . bad enough having to contend with the trees without adding in any of Falco’s bad ideas. Or maybe she could just take care of the whole thing by pushing him over the side of the ravine . . .

She giggled quietly then stifled it as some turned to look at her. She squinted up at the nearby trees and pursed her lips. The forest, it seemed, was giving her some queer ideas. She looked slyly at Falco, wondering . . .

[Kitanna]

Marroc trudged along with the other hobbits, carrying some of the supplies in his bag. He did not like being in the Old Forest. His Gammer had told stories about this place. Stories that were frightening enough to scare the hair right off a hobbit's foot.

But his Gammer had also said if he ever found himself in questionable surroundings to whistle. She believed whistling chased away the bad and scary things. So, walking along with his friends Marroc whistled. Softly, mostly to himself. He wanted to tune out what Sondo and Bingo were saying about this place. Best not to know, he thought.

The hobbits moved along, encountering pit after pit. Slowly the pits were becoming ravines and sooner or later they were going to come across one they could not cross. Marroc just kept whistling.

~*~*~

"I don't think we should try to climb through this one just yet," Sondo remarked, looking over the edge of what looked like an impossible ravine. "Let's try following it south. Maybe it will get shallower."

There was simply no way the hobbits were going to get across. So the group followed Sondo, in what he believed was south.

They had not moved far when Sondo lost his footing and tumbled down the ravine. The ground moved beneath Marroc's feet and he, with most of the others, tumbled down into the ravine. He landed on top of Bingo. Rolling off, he apoligized. "So sorry Bingo. Hope you're not hurt."

"Didn't we have a rope left over from the raft?" Sondo asked.

A piece of thin rope was found and Sondo decided to try to climb up first. He was close to the top when the rope loosened and he went tumbling down again. Rory's head peered over the side. "The tree tripped me!"

Not good, Marroc thought. If trees were tripping people and edges of ravines were throwing people into their pits, who knew what would happened the farther they traveled.

"It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard." Sondo said.

The hobbits were divided now. Half in the ravine and half still above. What happened when they went farther and they discovered there was no way out. What would happen to their group then?