Sailing Away RPG

[Firefoot]

Sondo snuck a glance over at Reggie. Now that was interesting. He had been dying to know about Falco since Reggie had come back, but he was not about to be the one to ask. Now he knew, and found a great measure of satisfaction from the story. The pair had not reached Sarn Ford, nor could Falco even keep the one follower he had! The ultimate triumph would be if Falco were to turn around after realizing Reggie was gone... but, based both on Reggie’s account and his own logic, that would never happen.

“Well, we’re glad you’re back,” said Sondo, “even if Falco is not.” No one said any more on the issue; it had been a touchy topic before and everyone seemed satisfied, for now at least, by Reggie’s answer. Some light conversation ensued. Between Sassy’s catch and Reggie’s return, there was finally something to celebrate. Indeed, after going so many days without much to eat, the small meat chunks seemed a feast. Even so, the meal was all too small and was finished all too quickly. Sondo felt sure that given the opportunity he could have eaten both coneys. But he was thankful for what he had, and had given Sassy a smile of genuine appreciation upon receiving his food. It was the first token of forgiveness he had shown her since that fateful day when she called him “Bunnymuggins.”

They tarried there for a while after finishing breakfast, content to relax and let the food settle. Soon, however, Sondo felt an itch to start moving again. One thing he had found was that, even if it made for rather miserable travelling, it made for easy “pick-up-and-go” when they didn’t have any supplies to gather up and carry. They had scant supplies, and once he gave the word to start moving again, it could not have been more than ten minutes before they left.

This morning there was a spring in his step, and lively chatter characterized their hike. Having a meal (albeit a small one) in their bellies took their minds off food troubles (for a while, anyway) and Reggie’s return encouraged everyone, most notably Bingo. And yet, as he walked, Sondo could not shake the feeling of foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach, similar to when he had ‘known’ something would happen before the raft crashed. But no, he told himself. This day has started off so wonderfully; what could go wrong?

[piosenniel]

Sam

Sam came up beside Sassy and ambled along in amiable silence for a while. His feet kicked at little pebbles as he went along, and one he purposely kicked into the path of Sassy’s footsteps. She looked up at him oddly, and he grinned at her, then pursed his lips and looked expectantly toward the pebble. Soon, there was a game of ‘Back and Forth’ going on between them, accompanied by giggles on Sassy’s part when she missed the pebble altogether and it shot into the underbrush.

‘Say, you got any rope in your pack?’ They had tired of the game after a while and now just walked along talking about whatever came to mind. And to be honest, what was most on his mind was the subject of food. Again Sassy looked up at him. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘For traps and such. I was thinking if I helped you lay out a few more traps then maybe we could have a little more to eat. Whatta ya say . . . Sass – a – frass?’

He jumped quickly out of her way in case she took offense to his teasing.

[Primrose Bolger]

It was almost like having one of her friends from home along! Sassy’s spirits had lifted considerably with the appearance of Sam by her side. She didn’t mind the teasing name, but she knew the unwritten rule that you couldn’t let a friend get one up on you, so she stuck out her tongue at him.

She hauled her little pack off her back and dug down to the bottom of the main compartment. There was still a small coil of thin, strong rope and she hauled it out for Sam to see. She put it in his hands, telling him to go ahead and unwind it. As he did so, she got out one of her loop traps, and together they measured the length of it. Sassy offered to tie the slip knot on it, saying how her uncle had taught her the trick. But Sam’s fingers were nimble enough and soon they had two more traps to use. ‘Let’s give ‘em a try out tonight,’ Sassy said, testing the two knots and nodding her head at how well they worked.

Another game began, as Sassy caught the movement of a red squirrel in the branches of one of the trees ahead. ‘I spy, with my little eye,’ she began, nudging him to get his full attention. ‘Something . . . red . . .’

[Kitanna]

Reggie had returned and the hobbits had eaten a nice breakfast of coneys. Marroc's spirits were lifting. He was glad of Reggie's return and the coneys just made the day even better. Everyone seemed to feel better today. It was a pity Falco was not there to enjoy it.

Marroc felt bad for Falco. He had one follower and he'd abandoned him. Well, Marroc was pretty certain Falco would come after them. Who wants to be alone and away from home? Marroc nodded to himself, yes Falco would come around soon enough.

Now he began to whistle and merry tune and looked up into the clouds. Nothing could bring him down. Not today. He thought of home and the wonderful meals his mother would make. Though Sassy wasn't a bad cook. It was good she had come along. Marroc had no idea how to cook and he wasn't sure the others knew either.

Marroc hadn't noticed he'd strayed away from the others. When he drew himself out of his own thoughts he had trailed so far behind his friends he could barely see them. "Wait for me!" He called out, running after them. Marroc caught up in a matter of seconds.

[Nurumaiel]

Falco saw the company up ahead, and a bitter cry was mingled with the gasp of relief that burst from his lips. He was not pleased to see them. He did not want to go to them and ask if he could rejoin their company. It was so humiliating. How could he preserve what little dignity he had left if he went to them? But if he remembered that he was returning to them because he had no choice, and not because he was sorry (for what would he be sorry?), he could still be dignified.

It had been hard to cope with the fact that Reggie was gone. He had awoken that morning in brighter spirits, feeling more than confident that they would reach Sarn Ford before their stomachs told them it was time for breakfast. But when he had gone to find Reggie... Reggie was not there. It didn't take long for Falco to realise that Reggie had returned to Sondo's group, and his soul had been filled with the deepest of bitter resentment. That he had gained only one follower in the first place was painful, but it was beyond words when that one follower deserted him.

He had sat on the river bank for most of the morning, alternating between angry tears and bitter silences. At last he had resolved to go on alone, so he took up his pack and continued on south. By noon he was desperately hungry, and there was no hint that he was close to Sarn Ford. He had walked too close to the river and slipped, and though he saved himself by grasping desperately to the bank and pulling himself up, his pack, which he had been holding, rather than having it safely strapped to his shoulders, was lost.

So he had sat on the river bank for awhile more, wondering what he should do. He had no food, and he was terribly hungry. That was bad enough, especially as Sarn Ford did not seem to be as close as he had thought. But now, with the loss of his pack, he had absolutely nothing. And so the bitter choice was before him... should he continue on in a southerly direction, and hope that maybe, perhaps, possibly, Sarn Ford would magically appear? Or should he return to the group?

He stood up, brushed as much mud from his clothes as he could, and began walking north.

By midday he was trying to decide whether it was comforting or tantalising to imagine his mother's apple pies, and the chicken they would have for supper. He entertained himself in pleasant dreams of the feast he would have when he returned home, and hoped he was not making himself even more hungry by his visions. He walked at a nice, brisk pace, and pretended that his stomach was not growling as loudly as it was.

By evening his steps were lagging, and he was so hungry that his stomach fell, for the most part, silent. He wondered how far ahead the others were, and felt angry that they kept walking instead of taking it slow so he could catch up. He didn't care if they didn't know he was following them... they should wait for him!

An hour past his usual bedtime, he wondered dully if he should get some sleep or keep going. He decided on the latter. Sleep could wait, but he was hungry, so very hungry! If he kept walking throughout the night, maybe he could catch up with them. It was certainly worth trying. He would try.

On he walked, through the darkness. He had been asking much of himself to plod on throughout the day without a bite of food, but to continue on through the night was unbearable, or it should have been. He was so dull and tired that he didn't care. Midnight came, and he was still going on. Two hours past midnight, his ragged breath caught in his throat, and he began to sob. But he still trekked on. His only hope was that he caught up with the others.

Dawn was coming. A faint grey light stole across the sky, bringing the land out of its darkness but keeping it in a cool, dim light. Falco's eyes dimmed to match his surroundings. He could barely walk. His steps were dragging. He was too tired to even cry. The first birdsong of the day rang sweetly in his ears; his foot did not lift high enough; he tripped, and fell, and did not move.

It was too much. He could go no farther. He would rather lie here and starve to death than go on. He could not go on. He had fallen, and he had not the strength to get up. He buried his face in the grass and closed his eyes.

And then he started up. Was that... smoke?

He raised his head and looked here and there. Yes, it was! Not far from him were the remains of a little fire. They must have had their breakfast here. The fire was not dead yet... they couldn't be too far off!

He felt a faint glimmering of hope, and that smallest bit of hope gave him the courage to go on. But when he tried to lift himself from the ground his arms would not support him. Each time he tried to push himself up, they buckled beneath him and he fell back. He was too tired and weak. Again and again he tried, but to no avail. At his last try he put his face down and began to cry. Why couldn't he get up?

He lay, weeping, for some time, thinking all the while that the group was getting farther and farther away. When he had rested a bit, he tried again, but it was all in vain. He began to squirm along the ground like a snake, wriggling back and forth, trying to move himself forward. He did move forward, inch by inch. But to come back to Sondo like this! Like a worm. No, pride could hold out even in the face of exhaustion.

But it gave Falco an idea. If he could make his way to one of the trees, grasp one of the lower branches, and cling on for all he was worth, maybe he could pull himself up. He felt confident that, if he could just get on his feet, he would be all right, and able to stand. Once more he tried to lift himself up, but his hungry, exhausted, thirsty body would not support him.

He wriggled his way to the river bank, and dipped his head down to take a long, cool drink. He put his hands in, splashed his face, and was soon feeling a little more refreshed. He had been walking on so doggedly before that he had been fool enough to not stop for water. But now he felt just a little better. He wriggled to a tree then, slowly, just inching along, and when he reached it he grasped a branch, took a deep breath, and then began to pull himself up. The tree was a kind support and stood straight and tall. Just a few more moments... and then he was up!

He clung to the branch, and leaned against the trunk, gasping for breath and laughing with relief. He was on his feet! How foolish that he couldn't get up himself before. He felt much stronger now in the face of this victory. Well, he would never tell his older brother that he had fallen and couldn't get up. Not even when they were old and grey, not even when they were old and white.

He stood there for a few moments, rejoicing silently, and then he pushed himself away from the trunk, and slowly released his hold on the branch. He was a bit shaky, but he was standing by himself. Now to go on.

And on he went, ignoring the aches and pains in his body, pretending that he was a great adventurer. His imaginings helped a little, but not as much as he would have liked. Yet, he could go on. The rising sun brought hope, he reflected dreamily, and didn't stop to think that it would bring heat and exhaustion if he didn't hurry.

It wasn't so very long before he found the group, and now here he was, standing, torn with conflict. During the night, on his weary walk, he had forgotten his bitterness and anger, and thought he could hug every one of them, even Sassy (as long as the boys promised they wouldn't tell anybody that he had hugged a girl). But now that he had reached his goal, now that there was no more struggling, he was once again reluctant to beg pardon... that is, to forgive them.

But he had to go to them. He must remember, he was not returning to apologise. He was still proud and dignified and aloof. He flung his chin up and strode forward, struggling in vain to hide the limping brought on by his weary, aching feet.

[Firefoot]

The morning drew on, and Sondo began to think it was about time for lunch break. He wondered idly why they still called it lunch break; it had been several days since they had any lunch. More like a break in the hiking was what it was. He was getting hungry again; the cooked coney could only stave off the hunger for so long. He did wonder if the breakfast might be a good sign, and maybe they were getting on to places more suitable for coneys and vegetation.

“Hey, every-” he started to say, turning around. Was he seeing things? After the barest moment he decided he couldn’t be. The other hobbits began to look back too, wondering what it was Sondo had seen. A smug, victorious smile spread across Sondo’s lips. So the prodigal had returned, had he?

“So you’ve come back, huh?” smirked Sondo. He couldn’t help it. “I heard you never made it to Sarn Ford.” Sondo’s tone was conversational, but it was a jab, all right, same as Falco had been throwing at him that last night. Falco didn’t respond, and continued to make his way toward them. Sondo studied the other hobbit closely. He looked tired, like his feet hurt something awful. But there was something about the way he limped... A brief frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Falco looked proud still, even arrogant. Sondo’s temper flared against this hobbit who had shown him in such a bad light, but he shoved it back down. Kill your enemies with kindness, his ma had always said. At any rate, Sondo figured he had nothing left to prove.

This time without the implied jab, Sondo said, “Well, Falco, nice of you to join us.”

[Child of the 7th Age]

“Look!” Bingo grabbed Sassy firmly by the sleeve to get her attention and pointed excitedly toward Falco who was standing in the clearing talking with Sondo. Their voices were low, so that Bingo could not make out what the two hobbits were actually saying. Still, he could not miss the strained look on Sondo’s face. It would be a while till things were back to normal. For his own part, Bingo intended to do anything he could to help mend the situation quickly. Whirling around to face his brother, he flashed a grin of reassurance. “We’re all together now. Things will be better. It might take a bit, but you’ll see.”

Once Sondo backed away, Bingo pressed forward and waved his hand in greeting, “I’m so glad you’re back. I was so worried about you and Reggie.” Bingo sidled closer and lowered his voice, “Don’t mind about Sondo. He’ll get over it. Friends have tiffs and make mistakes but they need each other.”

Reaching under his belt, Bingo fished out his last remaining treasure. It was a small packet of berries that he had managed to scavenge along the trail the afternoon before. Although a few were smashed and in less than good shape, this tiny mouthful to eat was the greatest treasure he could imagine to bestow on a returning friend. “It’s going to be alright, Falco, honest.” He placed the berries in Falco’s hand and gently pressed his friend’s fingers over the precious treat.

Then Bingo slipped back to make room for the others who, full of curiosity and joy or perhaps other less agreeable sentiments, now pressed forward to confront Falco. For his own part, Bingo was content. He began whistling a lively tune and gathering up his belongings hoping they would hit the trail again as soon as things settled down. Surely things could only get better now!