Farmer in the Dale RPG

[Fallinel]

Rhysdan was close enough to recognize the two figures as his son Elian, and niece Elanor, and was relieved that they had avoided the dragon as it wreaked havok among the farms. The teenagers were climbing up some of the larger boulders, and appeared to be trying to gain a vantage point on the scene below. Rhysdan was proud that the two youngsters had the intelligence and maturity to avoid a dangerous situation, and to instead retreat and assess their options. He cried out a "Halloooo" to the teenagers, and called Hawkweed to his side as he began his rapid descent into the valley where the farms of Dale lay nestled.

As Rhysdan reached the outer circle of farms and fields, he could see evidence of the beast's rampage, but no sign of the dragon itself. The thatched roof of one large livestock shed on the Fairlake farm was aflame, and Rhysdan could hear the panicked screams of trapped horses and cattle in the burning structure. The Fairlakes were an older couple, whose daughters had left to help their husbands establish homesteads; it would not be possible for either Fairlake to rescue their animals, assuming that both man and wife were still alive.

Rhysdan ran quickly to the opening of the livestock shed, where he found Meryn Fairlake sobbing hysterically, "Please, help them!" Rhysdan commanded Hawkweed to stay outside, and ran into the breezeway between the stalls, shirt held over his mouth to cut out some of the smoke. Fortunately, most of the smoke and heat was rising away from the animals, and Rhysdan was able to free the majority of the cows and horses by simply unlatching the stall doors and slapping the beasts on the rump to send them out the breezeway to safety. One young colt, however, was panicked and frozen with fear and confusion in his stall, the furthest from the door. Rhysdan grabbed a halter and lead rope, as well as a large cloth used for rubbing down horses after a workout, and entered the colt's stall. He threw the cloth over the animal's head and eyes, and the horse immediately stopped rearing and struggling. Rhysdan fastened the halter on the colt, and led him out of the burning shed, just as some of the beams in the roof began to collapse.

Camon Fairlake had joined his wife, and the two had managed to divert their rescued livestock into a small safe paddock. The old farmer took the colt's lead rope and brought him to the paddock with the other animals, while Rhysdan sat on the ground and coughed for awhile from the inhaled smoke. Camon brought him a pail of cool water and a mug, and Hawkweed nuzzled against his master and wagged his tail.

"Meryn and I can't thank you enough for what you did, Rhysdan," said Camon, "but I expect that you'll be wanting to get back to your farm and family as soon as you catch your breath." Rhysdan drank some water, and got to his feet. He shook the old farmer's hand, and said, "None of us can fight this monster alone. We must meet and discuss the situation before the dragon returns. I expect that it has headed back to the Mountain to seek a hiding place or den. For now, Hawkweed and I will hurry off to our farm-I've seen Elian and Elanor up on the hill, but I'm desperately worried about my wife and daughter."

[Regin Hardhammer]

Eric roamed through the forest scanning the thicket for any signs of a clearing, but found none. He regretted chasing after the dragon so recklessly, getting himself totally lost. Although tired and hungry, he vowed to continue his search, pushing his aching body forward. This is no fun at all, he thought. Eric wondered what Eli was doing right now. He imagined his older twin being tucked into bed by Mamma and kissing her good night. Even though he had often been angry at his parents for favoring Eli, Eric still wished that he could hug them now and tell them that he loved them. He had never spent so much time alone in such a strange place.

Eric’s ears perked up as he heard the sound of flowing water just a few feet ahead. He rushed toward the noise and saw, to his astonishment, something that he did recognize, a wide river. His heart leapt as he remembered that he had often seen this river near his house and even played with his friends there. He also remembered that, afterwards he had forgotten to dry off before entering the house and his mother had given him a good scolding. Maybe, he hoped, she can scold me again when I get back for running off into the forest.

A little wooden rowboat lay on the bank and two oars were laid neatly inside it. Eric felt the squish of the wet mud between his toes as he approached the small boat. After pushing the boat into the river, he hopped in and began rowing. As the boat moved down the river, Eric’s attention drifted to the large fish swimming in the surrounding water and his stomach grumbled. If only I had brought my pole, he thought, I could have caught tons of them. The water splashing into the boat reminded him of the sizzle of fish being fried by his mother in the kitchen. He could almost smell them as he rowed. Eric remembered that his house was only a little farther down. After a couple of minutes he stopped where he was sure his house was and got out.

He walked a ways down the path when he realized that his jacket was wet, and he did not want to catch a chill, so he cast it aside. The jacket had once belonged to Eli and Eric had never particularly cared for it. Now thoroughly exhausted from rowing, he laid down in a bed of soft pine needles underneath a towering tree. It was not like the soft bed he had at home, but it was the best alternative he had seen all day. As Eric closed his eyes, he felt happier than any other time in his life. He was going home.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Elanor was relieved to have found her way back to her family, but somehow things did not seem so safe and happy when her brother Eric was not with them; he was probably lost, out wandering somewhere on the hillside with no idea of where he was or how he could get home. All those times Eric had put frogs or grass snakes in her bed quickly faded from her mind. Instead she remembered a sweet, tan-skinned boy with an unkempt mop of chestnut curls who was always doing silly things so that she couldn’t help but laugh. When her father had asked her if she knew where Eric was, Elanor couldn’t help but feel it was partially her fault that he wasn’t here. She should have checked on him before leaving the house. Elanor shook her head and sighed, listening carefully to what her mother was saying.

At her father’s announcement that he was about to leave and look for Eric, Elanor quickly piped up in the hope that she could make amends, “Please father, let me come too. I know most of Eric’s secret hiding places where he’d be likely to go and hide.”

In response to his sister’s query, Elian began to jump up and down, “Me too! Me too!”

At this point, Willow spoke in a calm but tense voice, “Let’s use some sense here. Dad and Elanor can go out and search the area around the farm, all the sheds and fields and the little stream that runs off the river. That shouldn’t take too long. He’s probably off playing somewhere on the farm. I’ll stay here with Eli for the moment. You never know. Your brother might find his way back on his own. Let’s meet back here in a little while.”

“But what if we don’t find him?” Elanor interrupted. She pointed towards the open window. Outside, the sun was setting. In another hour or so, it would be completely dark, and much more difficult to search.

“If we don’t find him…?” Willow’s face turned pale but she was careful to respond with a calm voice. “I’m sure we will. He doesn’t usually run off. But if something has happened, we’ll organize a search. I’m sure Uncle Rhysdan and Aunt Esmerelda and their children will help us, if we need them.”

At that point, there was an audible shuffling noise coming from the front hallway. Elian had pushed the door open and made his way inside as was often his custom of doing. The young lad immediately spoke up, “We sure will help! But I needed to tell you something. My mom and little sister are at home. But dad still hasn’t come. Mom is sure he’ll be back any minute, and he probably will. But, just in case, I’m going to start poking around the neighborhood and take Daisy with me, like Aunt Willow suggested. Mom will be helping too, but keeping an eye on the house in case dad gets home. I’ll keep my eyes open for Eric as well. If either of them aren’t back by nightfall, my family can meet you here in your house, and we can see about that search.”

Elanor noticed that, when Elian talked, he sounded much older than he ever had before. She hoped she could sound so calm and certain. It would not help if everyone got so frightened they couldn’t think clearly. Determined to be helpful, she added, “Elian’s right. We’ll get a lot more done if we all go out looking and have a plan. First, let’s check the farm itself and meet back here shortly. I’ll go ask some of the neighbors if they’ve seen my brother. But if that doesn’t work….” Elanor’s face turned somber. “Should we go out searching at night? Or wait till the morning?”

Her mother responded with a gentle smile, “Let’s hope we won’t need to do that. But if we do, we’ll talk about it later. Now everyone off to where they need to go. Let’s start looking and see if we can come up with our two missing culprits.”

With that the group split up, each one going to do what they’d promised. As Elanor went out the door, she muttered to herself, “Let’s just hope that monstor has flown away from here and won’t turn up on our doorstep.” Elanor pushed those thoughts aside. Right now, she had a job to do: to find her brother and Uncle Rhysdan.

[ArwenBaggins]

Arinn walked swiftly from the house, following his daughter and nephew. Frankly, he had listened to very little of what was said. He was not one to worry on any normal occasion, comforting his sons (and even Elanor sometimes, although she denied it entirely) during storms and the time the year before when a robber tried to steal a cow. No, he didn't worry much, but with his youngest son missing with all of the evident danger, he had the right to fret.

All he had heard was that they were searching the farms first and elsewhere later. He also knew that time was against them. The sun was sinking faster than normal it seemed, as if playing a wicked game with the farmers of Dale. "Elanor, search out by the stream and the other hiding places of Eric's that you know of. Don't stray too far," he called to his daughter as she headed off to the right, followed by Elian. Another child missing couldn't be handled.

Searching thoroughly the dusty corrals and sheds, Arinn found nothing but thirsty horses and a few rabbits. He rubbed the muzzle of his chestnut mare, pushing away her sweaty forlocks. "Sorry girl... I'm looking for Eric right now." He wanted to ask her if she had seen his little boy, but he knew that the horse couldn't speak back to him. Oh, if only it could!

"Eric Roland Millwind, where are you?" he yelled loudly yet hopelessly as he left the mare, ignoring the gate entirely and jumping over the fence. He knew that Rhysdan was also missing, but he hoped that Esmerelda or Elian and Daisy would find him- right now, he was concerned about his son.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Elanor climbed to the top of the old wooden fence and sat down on the upper railing, curling her fingers around the nearby fencepost for added support as she stared at the surrounding plain. For the past hour she had been searching all over the farm, investigating every cranny where she knew her brother sometimes hid. Despite her efforts, she'd found nothing. Even the neighbors claimed not to have seen Eric, but most of them had been so involved in rounding up family members that Elanor wondered if they would even remember a small boy slipping though the fields. At least, she had not had any trouble with the dragon. He seemed to be lying low for the moment.

The sun had sunk below the horizon; only a tiny wisp of light remained in the skies. With a rueful shake of her head, Elanor climbed down again and then trotted back in the direction of her home. She had not gone more than a dozen paces when she heard a sound over her shoulder. Halting for a moment to glimpse back, Elanor noticed a familiar figure sprinting towards the south, trying to catch up with her.

"Elian!" she cried out in greeting.

"Yes, it's me. And I have news. I went further north of here, about a half a mile, and came across Farmer Brand. This, afternoon, he saw Eric. Brand was rounding up his herds right after the wyrm was sighted. Eric was racing southeast through the fields, all by himself, heading towards the river; he was apparently doubling back chasing after the dragon, who was going in broad circles."

Elanor's face blanched white at the idea that her brother could be so far away from the house and that he'd been running after the dragon instead of away from him. She only hoped that the dragon hadn't noticed him. Fighting back tears, she responded grimly, "And your father, Elian? Have you seen him?"

"No. But I think dad will be alright. I am more worried about your brother."

"Let's go back then," urged Elanor, "and tell the others. Maybe your father is there by now. Anways, it's getting dark and we can't go running off on our own. My dad and mom will know what to do."

With that, they turned around and continued together.

[ArwenBaggins]

The sun was only a small glowing shred of light on the far horizon, much to Arinn's dismay. If only they could have more time... even an hour! If only he had offered Eric the chance of going in the fields with him as well. If. That's all it was. An if.

He emerged from the hay storage shed and started at a slow walk towards home. He knew that going slower would mean less time to look for the boy and his brother-in-law, but he didn't want to break the news to everyone that he hadn't found a speck of evidence of Eric anywhere. He only hoped that Elanor had some sort of clue or information that could reasured him. Hope was all he could do now.

After several minutes of not-so-leisurely walking, Arinn had arrived again at the door of his home. From inside, he could hear shaky and hurried voices- more than two. "Willow, Eli?" he called as he entered, but then noticed that his sister-in-law and her daughter Daisy were also there. Deciding that he wanted to acknowledge them all, he continued: "Esmerelda, Daisy."

He smiled weakly and kissed his wife's head, and then bent down to ruffle Eli's hair. Everyone seemed to stop talking after he arrived, but soon started again as Elanor and Elian came inside. Elian came first to Arinn. "Uncle Arinn, Farmer Brand saw Eric earlier."

Again the whispers stopped. "Brand? Up a ways north?" It wasn't really a question, and he didn't expect any answer other than the nod he recieved. "We need to go out now."

A huff from his present son drew his attention away. "Eli, if you were missing, wouldn't you want us to go and look for you at night?"

"Yes," he said softly, kicking his feet around.

"That's what I thought. Now, I know everyone is tired, but my son- and it seems Rhysdan as well- is still missing. We should all go out together, so no one else gets lost. Does this sound good?" He looked around at everyone's faces, the fear present on them.

Nothing. No nods, no disagreements, nothing. Supposing that no one had any objections, he turned to the door. "Now, let's find Rysdan and Eric."

[Kransha]

In the sky, the golden dragon, his wings no longer slapping the smoke-filled air with crazed fury but merely acting as devices to direct him as he glided gently, pondered his situation. He was still slightly hungry, the feast on Dale’s livestock having not been entirely filling, but he had more important matters to look to. He would have to wage a next level of assault on Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, the only obstacle that did not cower and tremble before his shimmering might. Then he could see to further pleasure, and perhaps another belated meal, in Dale. He would have to be cautious, though, and show logic and tact in his offensive maneuvers. He would not delve into the mountain yet, but conquer it from without. After the petty resistance in Dale and those of Erebor were annihilated, he would seek the innards of the Lonely Mountain and the needed treasures that they held. Slowly, whipping his long tale and arching form about in midair, Smaug turned again, more fully, towards weary Erebor. What little specks of sunlight shone through the thick smog clouds were brightened when reflected on Smaug’s scales, illuminating the dragon’s magnificent hide as he suddenly swerved, swiveled, and dove forward towards the oncoming mountain.

Another torrential explosion of powdery dirt, fractured rock, and billowing dust shot out of the wound in the mountainside, rimmed by the bright crimson of Smaug’s flames. The column of fire penetrated the rock and bored through it, plowing into the face of Erebor and causing the mountain to quake as it was uprooted from within. As the outpour of produced smoke bore towards him, Smaug moved aside and directed another precise pillar of his fiery breath at another piece of the mountain, scorching the grayish rock into coal-black rubble. He continued doing this, parallel with the mountain again as he had been when he first attacked Erebor, but this time his attacks were more lethal, more concise, and more destructive. As he circled the mountain, moving in a diagonal spiral so that he moved steadily around the cone of Erebor and towards it dulled peak, he blasted every area that retained itself, causing most of Erebor’s protective stone to crumble, melting off the mountainsides and onto the earth far below. Finally, he’d reached the mountaintop, its majestic tip obscured by flame and smoke plumes still. As his the circles his bulk drew in the sky shrunk around the peak, he honed in on it and let loose countless gusts of the brightest fire which tore the mountaintop asunder, easily destroying its former prowess in the sky and causing rock to fall away, leaving the jutting mountain no more than a looming lump of fiey earth and dust and rock built up by time’s winds.

Satisfied with his work, Smaug soared over the fallen peak and, his wings skimming the mountainside again, flew down towards the land and Dale. His focused and unmoving eyes caught sight of an uncharacteristic hue present on the landscape. It was blue, not bright and gleaming blue, but irritatingly tranquil when superimposed against the sweeping darkness of Smaug’s Desolation. It was a river, winding delicately around, flanking Erebor and swiftly moving. It was the river he’d seen earlier, and taken little notice of, that poured out of Erebor and moved calmly around the fringes of Dale, on its eastern side. Now that Dale and Erebor were so marred by Smaug, the river seemed out of place. At first, the dragon could not think of a way to rectify the problem, but he soon resolved simply to see what advantages he could find in or alongside the river…perhaps another much desired meal. Snapping his jaws gratuitously, Smaug dipped low, his gem-encrusted underbelly gliding along the water’s surface. The river’s gentle waves were pushed aside by the massive gales of wind that Smaug carried alongside him, his two magnificent wings fanning the body of water and sending bursts of river up onto each bank, soaking the swaying trees on both sides. His two beady, gleaming eyes tried to focus, but the spray that shot up from beneath him obscured the dragon’s vision as he searched for his prey.

Finally he saw it, though it was not exactly what he’d thought it was, or hoped it was. A small figure, curled up protectively in the trees’ shade on the unwashed shores, barely visible (except in Smaug’s keen vision), but close below. He grimaced from his hovering perch in the unsettled air, disappointed by the quality of his meal, but dismissed the size of it, guessing that the creature was probably more tender in its youth, and easy prey, not swift or adept enough to escape him. His dark frown twisted malevolently into a grin as he veered expertly sideways, the fringes of his leathery wings caressing the surface of the river. He quickly moved toward it, descending to the lowest point he could reach while flying without being hindered. The dragon aimed himself, now not moving, waiting for his chance, at the targeted tree and tore towards it, his jaws pried open and ready for another satiation of his hunger. He saw the small bundle growing very slightly larger in his sight as he closed in over the river.

But, before he reached his prey, he became aware of an obstacle he had dismissed before. The tree branches were too low and too much in his way for the dragon to reach the ground smoothly. Instead, countless gnarled branches pricked irritatingly at the soft flesh of his wings. He tried to brush the trees aside, but many of them were firm where they stood. He tore off branches, pulled up tree trunks, but could not delve to where the small form lay beneath. He could no longer see it through the disheveled array of branches and guessed that the great commotion of his tearing up the forest had scared it away. He roared angrily, but could do no more than vent. There would be other prey, surely, but Smaug found it easier to be as vengeful as he wished to be just then. His eyes radiating with tongues of golden-red, like the light welled up in his throat, Smaug bore down on the forest and let loose his destructive breath, incinerating the just beneath him, turning them to blackened dust, and as he rose he saw a great, dark mark upon the earth, a crater in the forest where his breath had scorched.

More food to be found in Dale, he thought, and turned that way…