A Land to Call Their Own RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

Garlin moaned and hung his head, pressing his fingers along the top of his brow. The incessant pounding in his head was making it difficult to concentrate.

The last few days were all a blur. Immediately after his successful venture into the Hobbit's camp, he had disappeared with his prizes, looking for a buyer. He had managed to pawn a number of things to some travellers on the road in return for a large leather pouch filled with foaming ale. He'd spent considerable time enjoying the contents of that pouch. But now it was empty: he was left with a headache, and wondering what he should do.

Garlin still had the topaz necklace that he'd taken from the last wagon he'd visited. His plan was to sell it for a tidy sum of cash. But to do that, he'd need to find a place where there'd be more ready buyers than could be found here in the middle of the woods. He seemed to have just two choices. Either he could head east towards Bree and sell the necklace, or ride west again to make a second visit to the Hobbit camp and 'borrow' a few more belongings.

The sensible thing would have been for Garlin to call it quits and cash in the piece of jewelry. But he was not thinking clearly, and the idea of conning the Hobbits twice in a row was beginning to sound very attractive. He knew from his previous stint of spying that the Hobbit convoy was moving at a snail's pace. He could probably catch up with them by late afternoon. Shoving the necklace to the bottom of his saddlebag, Garlin hastily mounted his horse and began following the deep ruts of the wagon tracks that led westward on the old road.