The Fellowship of the Fourth Age (Part 1): A New Beginning RPG

[Tevildo]

Azhar had staked out a small plot to call her own, a good distance from her nearest neighbor. The young girl could not stand being hedged in between so many tightly packed bodies. Tired of hearing her neighbors snore, she had gotten up and walked to the edge of camp where very few were sleeping. Finding what looked like a comfortable place, she had lain down again and curled her body into a tiny ball. Yet even here, she could feel the sharp edge of every twig and pebble that lay beneath the grass. Even removed from the snores and grunts of the others, Azhar found it impossible to sleep. She tossed restlessly from one side to the other.

Today had not been easy. Her own life on the plantation had been comparatively soft. Azhar had hauled buckets of water and delivered messages, but she had not been forced to do any backbreaking tasks. Moreover, unlike the mass of field slaves who had only the crudest of shelters, she was allowed to bed down in a pile of soft hay within a sturdy building where the horses were stabled. That way, she was close by when the overseers wanted an errand run. The young slave had managed to beg or steal enough food to keep her belly full and had a decent pair of shoes to wear. A few of the Easterling guards had been fond of her. They had liked her pretty face and been taken with her cheerful chatter. One of them had even gifted her with an agate on a leather thong to string about her neck, making her promise that in a year or two she would come back to visit him in the barracks. Still young and innocent, she had laughed and given her promise.

Out on the trail, things were a lot different. There was no privileged status here. She ate and drank and slept exactly like everyone else. Azhar wasn't used to that. Her body ached from too many miles walked, and her stomach growled incessently with hunger. Once today, during the long and miserable trek, she had even wondered if it might not have been better to stay back on the plantation rather than running off after a wild dream that was unlikely to come true.

But it was too late for second thoughts. Like it or not, she was stuck here. Maybe, if she was lucky, things would get better. She glanced over at her nearest neighbor who lay several feet away. His outline was shadowy and barely visible in the dark. It looked to be Kwell, a boy about her own age, but one who seemed as hard and silent as any rock. Perhaps she just didn't belong here. Sighing and feeling very alone, Azhar gathered the few scraps of her blanket tightly about her body and willed herself to sleep.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Two men sat on the hillside, eagerly peering down on the encampment of slaves. They were dressed in the garb of Easterlings. It was clear from their clothes and weapons that they were neither poor slaves, nor rich landowners. Rather, they were traders--traders in human flesh--who captured slaves and other lost remnents of humanity, dragging these unfortunates back to the planations for which they earned a rich reward.

The younger one spoke first. "Look at them. So many! I wish we'd brought along another twenty men. There's money here for the taking.'" The slaver Nimag squatted behind one of the larger boulders on the hillside, greedily rubbing his hands in anticipation of the gold and silver coins that would fall into his pocket, if only the men could bag a rich prize like this.

"Hold on," growled Imak, leaning over and smacking the younger man on the back of the head. "I'm in charge here. Keep your stinking mouth shut. I say when and where we go. You're a fool if you think seven men can go against a pack of over sixty. We'll end up with our throats slit, and little good to show for it."

Imak sat back on his heels, thought a minute, and then barked out orders to one of the riders who'd just approached them from over the hill. "Take the dog pack with you. Have four of the men attack the far side of camp." Imak indicated the direction with a hasty jerk of his thumb. " Just go and create a ruckus. Maybe slit a throat or two, or make off with some belongings. Make sure to take that idiot Nimag with you. Just get him out of my sight. Anyways," he added somewhat apologetically, "you'll have no trouble getting away on horseback."

"While that uproar is going on, I'll take the other men and nab two or three slaves. There's easy pickings down there. These fools have hardly any weapons and don't even know how to guard a camp. We'll take the captives back with us. Once we show the others, they'll come and clean out the rest of this vermin. We'll need the whole gang of thirty men to do that right. After all, we don't want to have to kill too many."

The rider looked up warily. "But, sir, why let them know we're here? Just go back now and get the others, and then take them all at once by surprise."

"Wait and do nothing? Nah." Imak grimaced and shook his head. "You don't know these thugs like I do. No good bounty hunter will go for the kill unless you show him some of the loot. If I come back with some cock and bull story, and not a slave to show for my efforts, they won't believe me. The men will only come if they see fresh meat up for sale, and they know I'm not just giving them a tale."

"But the guards? Aren't there guards on duty?"

"Nay," Imak laughed. "Just look over there where our men would come out. They've got a stupid young fool who's asleep." The Easterling's voice was full of disdain. He could not stand incompetence, whether in his own men or others.

*****************

It did not take long to carry out the plan. The dogs went howling into camp from the north side where the young guard had fallen asleep. The men were mounted on horses immediately behind them. Within seconds, the slaves in the camp had been jerked out of their sleep. Some raced over with clubs and makeshift swords to try and combat the threat; a large number, terrified and weaponless, merely attempted to run away. Everywhere there was noise and chaos.

At the same time, Imak and his chosen friends had quietly slipped in on the opposite side of camp. These men didn't have to ride very far to find what they were looking for. A young girl, about twelve, a pretty face, seemingly of eastern origin; plus a boy about the same age, hard and scarred, obviously used to working in the fields; both stood directly in their path. Imak reached over and scooped up the girl, hoisting her up onto his saddle. She was too frightened to resist. With the boy it was different. The slave hit and clawed and kicked, but in the end Imak gave a swift club to the side of his head and got him to quiet down that way. Within a space of a few minutes, the entire gang had finished their job and turned their horses around, intending to head back towards the Ash Plains where the larger band of thugs awaited.

[Undómë]

Brenna

If you see the Moon at the end of the day
A bright Full Moon is on its way
If you see the Moon in the early dawn
Look quick, look quick...t’will soon be gone.

The night was warm, no fires were needed. Not for the warmth, that is. Though, the light would have been more than welcome here in this unknown land. Brenna folded her tattered shawl into a little cushion and lowered herself onto it. The small thickness of it cushioned her thin hips against the hardness of the rock she sat on. She took off her right sandal and rubbed at the ball of her foot. A stray rock had lodged there in the last mile or so of their trek that day; a tenacious and unwelcome hitchhiker despite her attempts to shake it from her sandal as they walked along.

‘Going to have a blister, old woman,’ she admonished herself. She moistened the hem of her skirt with a little spit and cleaned the area as best she could. Tomorrow before they started off again, she would wrap a strip of cloth about her foot to cushion it against the assault of the new day.

She put her hands behind her and leaned back on her arms, looking toward the waxing moon. She fingered the small hand scythe she’d laid on the ground by her side. The swollen crescent of metal echoed the shape of the bright moon. May you mow down those who would hinder our way she whispered into the night air.

Her bones, her muscles were tired, aching from the long day of walking. The older she got, though, the less easy it was just to lie down and rest her body, to sleep. Her mind was wide awake, and would be she knew until the wee hours of the night. It was then that sleep would find her for the few short hours she needed.

She lay down on her back after while and traced the stars in the dark bowl of sky above her. Somewhere, she knew, her brothers were sleeping beneath the very same moon and stars…or perhaps, as she liked best to think, they were awake, thinking about her as well.

------------

The sharp, insistent sound of the dogs drew her attention. She leveraged herself up from her resting place and saw the invaders as they entered the sleeping camp from the north. Panic and confusion blossomed about them as the sleeping men roused up to fight in their meager fashion while others of the group simply ran from the invaders as fast as their feet would carry them.

Brenna grabbed up her scythe, thinking to wake those on this side of the camp, to get them out of harm’s way before the invaders made their way to them. Before she could utter a word, a number of men on horses entered quietly in from her side of the camp; ten fell riders. A young boy was taken, clubbed senseless so that he lay limp across the horse in front of his abductor as if he were a sack of flour. And a thin girl, very young was hoisted up in like manner, though she was weaker and needed no persuasive beating to make her be still.

Oblivious to the pain in her foot, Brenna rose up and ran at the riders before they turned and headed out of camp. If only she could pull one or the other or better yet, both, of those children away from the abductors. The riders were too strong for her; their horses too quick as they turned away from her.

She took a quick, hard swipe at one of them, slicing along the back of his exposed leg as his horse leapt forward, toward the north. Another of those with the man hit out at her with his club, knocking her hard on the shoulder. Brenna fell, a cry of anger and frustration flung after the riders.

[Brinniel]

As night began to close in, the slave halted and made camp for the night. Shae quickly found her own space on the ground. She drew a large circle around herself in the dirt and scowled at anyone who dared to cross the line.

Shae was in a foul mood. She was still angry at Khamir's comment from earlier and as the day passed, the uneasiness she felt only weighed down on her more. Not to mention, by late afternoon a pesky migraine burdened Shae further and even hours later, it refused to leave. The pain had become such a nuisance, the young woman was tempted to throw rocks at any slave who made too much noise.

Bending her head between her knees, Shae closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She received headaches frequently, and through the years had learned the best cure was relaxation, a technique that had always been difficult for her. As the pain began to subside, Shae opened her eyes and spotted a large beetle crawling near her feet. Using two fingers, the woman plucked the insect from the dirt and examined its hard, shiny green and black shell. This species of beetle was rare and considered a delicacy. Back on the plantations, slaves would give up their most prized possessions for a taste. Shae placed the beetle in her mouth and let it crawl on her tongue before biting down on the shell with a loud crunch. The juices from the insect dissolved on her tongue as she took pleasure in the unusually sweet flavor.

By the time Shae's headache had completely disappeared, most of the ex-slaves were asleep and the first watch was nearly over. Shae had volunteered for the fourth watch, and though it was hours away, it would come before she knew it. And when that time came, she would need to be alert. Nestling her body into the hard ground, Shae closed her eyes and reluctantly let sleep consume her.

*********************

Shae awoke suddenly, bolting upright from her spot on the ground. Her senses were clear, yet her thoughts fogged. She could not recall any nightmare, so why had she awoken so sudden? And then she heard it- the sound of horses approaching. This time it was not a dream that had awoken her. A shout rang out, and unsheathing her long knife, Shae ran towards the unwelcome sounds.