Blood Run: A Terror Returns RPG

[Firefoot]

"Very well, then," the mayor concluded. "Unless there are any other volunteers...?" None were forthcoming. "The general meeting is dismissed, but I believe that Toby would like to have a few words with the Defenders," he said, casting a questioning look at Toby who was standing near the front of the room. Toby affirmed this statement with a nod, and the mayor continued, "If those of you could meet right up here."

The Defenders, such as they were, made their way to the front where Toby was waiting, appraising the group of which he had been placed in charge. He was grateful that Madoc had volunteered; he was a stout hobbit whose situation was similar to Toby's own. As for the rest of the lot, Toby wasn't as sure. Many of them were so young - Toby was more familiar with their fathers than them; his children might be friends with this lot. And one of them was a young woman! Toby would never have let his wife or any of his daughters volunteer for this perilous venture. He hoped that these young folk really did understand the gravity of their plight and didn't just see the whole affair as a great 'adventure.'

Then there were those two strangers whom Toby had never seen before, one of them that Dwarf who had made some fuss about his mace being thirsty for bloodshed. What sort of talk was that? At this point, Toby was almost willing to believe that one of them had somehow been behind all these killings, and had only joined the Defenders to cover it up. But he supposed that was tomfoolery; surely no person had ripped apart his sheep and dog like that! Or so he hoped.

"Now, then," he said, clearing his throat as the last of the Defenders gathered around. "I suppose most of you have a fair idea of this creature's methods...?" There was some nodding. "I'd like to start by having you all share your experiences and propose any ideas you have on what might be behind it."

[Forest Elf]

Grimbeorn, in seeing that no one was too excited to speak up, he said, “I have had a few experiences with creatures before. Would…was there any sign of footprints in the ground around the killings? Or were the grounds just bare? If it were a creature…surely it would have left foot prints.”

Grimbeorn’s face was still in shadow, he wasn’t sure what these folk would think of him when they saw his scar. He didn’t want to appear frightening to them…and he certainly didn’t want to become a suspect. He gently fingered his sword hilt, reminding himself that he hadn’t practiced much in the past week or so. That would also mean he’d have to get some target practice in as well.

[Farael]

“Footprints? I would not know my good Sir, my father’s cattle has been safe from this… thing. We have some ferocious dogs guarding our sheep, and that seems to suffice. Surely this nuisance is nothing more than that, some wild animal or another.” Answered Robby, feeling uncomfortable by the sense of gloom in the group around him.

“Now, I dare say the big folk among us will laugh at me and call me too much of a hobbit, if that was ever possible, but I believe that a little food would do us no harm. I see no reason to be so grim, let us sit around the table and discuss what to do next! Although… I suppose talking about dead animals, bloodied carcasses and the like would certainly ruin our appetite. Not to mention that, as my Pa’ says, bad news at the table makes for worse news after. We would not want to start our trip with an indigestion! No sir, that will not do at all. Perhaps we should all leave food for after we have discussed this grim business?” offered the hobbit, forgetting not only that he had been the one to propose food in the first place, but also that he had not given anyone else a chance to talk.

Feeling his verbosity abate, Robby crossed his arms and tried to look as serious as he could manage. “Well, then I would say that those of us who have had trouble with whatever we are after should speak up first. There is no point in having this hobbit speaking his lungs out if he knows little that can help us right now.”

[Durelin]

When the Town Hall had been cleared of all but the freshly named "Defenders of Bree", it suddenly seemed much larger. The walls loomed down on Parkun, and the floorboards glared up at him. "And why are you here?" they taunted, though he found the glances of any of the others in the group to be worse: more questioning, more accusing. But accusing of what? Did they really look at each other and think that maybe, just maybe the 'it' everyone was afraid of was right there in front of their noses?

Perhaps they did...it was possible.

The silence at first, after Toby did his best to initiate whatever planning they were going to do, made Parkun wonder how long it would take before they all scared themselves out of being "Defenders", but when one of the men finally spoke, sensibility seemed to suddenly return. Of course, he had little to pose other than a question regarding footprints. Kun had not heard of any signs of what was behind the attacks at all - he had heard from some naive children and crazy old men that it was a spirit, a shadow. Some creature leftover from the war, when sorcery was real...

One of the Hobbits of the group broke in, and Parkun had to resist cradling his head in his hand as the halfling rambled. How reliably typical, he thought bitterly. The young man only half listened to what the Hobbit said, but one word in particular hooked his attention: 'trip'.

Parkun opened his mouth to interject, but the Hobbit was not finished. Waiting until the shorter being had actually acknowledged that he was 'speaking his lungs out', the strawberry-blonde asked bluntly, "Our trip?"

[mormegil]

“It be trolls I tell ya” blurted Kuric abruptly. All of this talk about this being a simple creature had made him boil over, for he truly wanted it to be more, and he was irritated at how naïve and simple these folk were. “Yep this is the work of trolls or I don’t have a beard.” To emphasize the point Kuric stroked his beard slowly and thoughtfully. “Perhaps it a werewolf though, I’ve heard of ‘em up in these parts in times past. Times have changed and not all for the better, I say. Used to be that a dwarf could come up north here and find some good excitement, problem is now that this new king has tamed most of the wild, but it looks like he missed a something. I’ve seen more than the lot of you put together ‘ave seen and I’ve been through these parts in the old days back when things weren’t so safe and calm” Kuric’s face was giddy with anticipation, hoping that it truly was a troll or some other evil creature. “I tell you lot this much, this ain’t no simple task before ya now. I’m a bit concerned fer ya ta be honest, meaning no disrespect, of course, but I’d rather not have a hobbit leadin’ us and that’d be why I stepped in. Ye’ll need some old campaigner for the leader here and I’m the person fer the job.” Kuric looked at the rag-tag group before him, completely confident that no further discussion would be needed.

“Now what we need to do is get busy, and this hobbit had some sense in thinking about some food first. I’m saying we need some ale and we need it quick. Nothing puts me in the mood for a hunt quite like some good ol’ ale” Kuric chuckled at himself. Looking to Toby Kuric said, “Now what are ya waiting for lad, run along and get us some ale.” With that Kuric gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

[Dimturiel]

All the others had left, and only the new “Defenders” were now in the town hall. Erling could hardly believe that he was actually one of them. Surely he had gone too far this time. But there was no question of backing up now, lest he should be despised to the end of his days and remembered only as a coward. And that was not a thought that one like Erling could bear.

But for now it seemed that there were many just as uncomfortable as him. He looked at the group with interest and curiosity. Perhaps they had stories to tell. The old dwarf at least surely had, and maybe the other stranger too. Perhaps, when they were not too busy with their “defending” job, he would ask them to share some of his experiences with him.

But what exactly would they do as “Defenders”, Erling had no idea. Maybe the others had, although, by the looks of it, many were as baffled as he, if not more. Toby Mugwort had asked them for some suggestions, but that had lead only to an awkward silence, which was thankfully broken by Grimbeorn’s question about footprints. It was a sensible question, only it did not help much as no traces of the creature had been seen. A chill went suddenly down Erling’s spine, as he understood what that fact meant. Why were there no footprints? Surely all creatures left marks behind them. All living creatures, that was. Then what…?

Kuric’s talk about trolls awoke Erling from his musings. At first he listened with the greatest attention and also with a slight-or more than slight, if he wanted to be fair- apprehension. But soon enough all this turned to annoyance as he noticed the arrogance of the old dwarf, and the way he considered himself above the others. Those of Bree were not perhaps brave warriors, few actually could boast of knowing how to wield a sword or the likes, but they were all stout and bold at need. And need was great then. Their lives were at stake.

And as for Kuric’s treatment of Toby Mugwort, Erling had to try hard to restrain himself from saying some not very soft words to the “old campaigner” as he so arrogantly called himself. Master Mugwort was one of the most respected personages in Bree, and there were few who did not speak highly of him. What was that old dwarf unfamiliar with the ways of Bree doing by bossing one of the most highly-regarded folk in town? Erling thought that he might as well tell him-if not in the not very kind words he had first wanted to say-how things stood.

“Well, master Kuric,” he began. “Meaning no disrespect to you and not doubting your bravery and good intentions, but I think you should ask us how we feel about it before calling yourself our leader. See, you may know much about war and evil creatures, but we know little of you. And it is hard, master Kuric, really hard for us to put ourselves in the hands of a stranger we have never seen before. And you too, should try learning some things about us. For one thing, for you all this is a hunt, a way of amusing yourself, but for us…well, our families are at stake, and we find this business by no means amusing.”

Perhaps he had said too much, Erling thought. Perhaps now he had earned himself an enemy, and even among those who were forced to act together with him. But what had been said could hardly be unsaid now. And he thought he had been in the right. After all, it had been about the honor of his town and its people.

[Firefoot]

Lad? Lad? Toby had to be one of the oldest in the group! Kuric's pompous manner and arrogant tone had nearly set Toby's easy-going temper over the edge. Just who did this Dwarf think he was, anyhow?

He was grateful when Erling stepped in with a mild word of reproof to the Dwarf, as it gave Toby a few seconds to take a few deep breaths and compose a dignified response. He nodded his approval at Erling's statements and addressed Kuric rather stiffly.

"You will get your own ale, if that's what pleases you. We are all equals in this group and no one, least of all you, an outsider to this town, has the right to order anyone else around - particularly for something so mundane as ale!

"Now, you joined this group of Defenders knowing full well that the mayor had appointed me as leader to this group and if you had a problem with it you should have addressed him then. As it is, I daresay that if the mayor had wanted only someone skilled in battle for a leader, he might have chosen you, but clearly that is not the only quality such a leader requires. I also daresay I know a sight more about these killings than you do. Now," he said in an effort to refocus the meeting, addressing the whole group in a tone that was nearly even, "I've lost four sheep and a dog to whatever this is, though I can't say I remember seeing any tracks," he added with a nod to Grimbeorn; this outsider, at least, had a decent sense of respect! "The unusual thing about these killings is there doesn't seem to be any pattern to it; some of the sheep disappear, some are ripped to shreds - and never a sound in the night. If it were some ordinary creature I'd expect to be woken by snarls and cries... and whatever it is, no one's ever seen it. What we need, maybe, is a map... to figure out where it might be hiding during the day. Parkun, does your father keep one around here, perhaps...?"