Blood Run: A Terror Returns RPG

[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...?"

[Durelin]

Parkun was too annoyed that no one even noted his question to pay much attention to anyone else. Kuric’s first words were difficult to ignore, as he suddenly burst out something about trolls of all things. Trolls, creatures of legend...who was this Dwarf? Just the fact that he was a Dwarf was odd enough to the young man - not that he had not seen at least one or two before – but his greying hair and wrinkled face made Parkun wonder how many years this being had walked Middle-earth.

At least one too many, he thought, as Kuric boisterously rambled on. At the Dwarf's final words, an order to Master Mugwort, the young man had to suppress a laugh. Something wasn’t quite normal in this stranger’s head, to say the least. Erling responded to the Dwarf in his characteristically mild way, but Parkun thought Kuric might challenge even Erling’s patience with just a little time.

What would happen if they really offended this old Dwarf? He seemed to usually be at least a bit high strung, and sensibility probably wasn’t something he understood. If they pushed him over the edge in even the slightest…

Could he…? Parkun wondered. Trolls, indeed. Had Kuric arrived around the same time the attacks had started? The young man couldn’t remember when he had first seen the Dwarf in his father’s inn. He’s crazy enough, perhaps. That, at least, Parkun knew.

“Parkun, does your father keep one around here, perhaps...?”

The young Master Felderth jumped slightly when he heard his name and was dragged from his thoughts. Keep one…one what? He wracked his brain for anything he might have heard, and as a result he simply stared dumfounded at Farmer Mugwort for a moment or two until the word came to him: map.

“Oh, yes, he and his maps…” Parkun paused and glanced around him, feeling a little uneasy. If he went to get one of the maps, it would take him nearly an hour to just convince his father to let him bring it to the town hall. “Err…well, seeing as some have voiced a desire for food and drink…perhaps we should head over to my father’s inn, where we can see all of his maps?” More time could easily be wasted there, as well.

[Finduilas]

Ash was sorry to see that there was already contention among the Defenders. He disagreed with the dwarf, and was glad that Toby said something, but he hoped that Kuric wouldn't get insulted by his being put into place. After all, they all needed to work together, and there was no way to tell how long they would have to bear with each other.

Ash hoped that people would agree with Parkun, for he believed that food would improve the humor of the group, even though that sounded like a hobbitish idea. But even though he agreed, he didn't want to say so, seeing as there were enough opinions voiced, without him saying anything. So he waited silently, and desperatly hoped that tempers wouldn't flare.

While all had talked he had observed the other Defenders. He knew many of they himself, or at least had seen them before, and recognized them. But the dwarf, and a strange man, who had fingered his sword as he spoke. Ash hoped that he wouldn't cause any trouble, or prove dangerous.

[Newsman]

Madoc just sat and shook his head. This is the group thats gonna stop this...this...thing? He couldn't help but realize that the contention had obviously come from the Dwarf's comments, both on the nature of the creature as well as his attempt at ordering Toby. With a sigh he filled his pipe and lit it before drawing in a large whiff and puffing it out, staring into the smoke.

A terror of this sort was new to him, and truth be told he was scared out of his wits. After all his family was important to him, and if this menace began targeting people...He shuddered at the thought. As he gazed absentmindedly about the group, his eyes locked on to the man who was half hidden in the shadows. Madoc quickly averted his eyes and turned to the young man next to him.

"Ash isn't it?" A nod from the boy proved him right. "Lad, between you and me, I have a sneaky suspicion that this creature could be right here among us. Now dont get me wrong and all, I'm not the suspicious sort, but one has to cover all the bases."

Before the boy could reply, Madoc addressed the group. "I think Parkun is right you know, never knew a group who could think well on an empty stomach. I say we eat and try to find out what connects these attacks if anything." He was hoping someone else would agree, eating would make things less formal, and give him the time to tell his suspicion to Toby without drawing unneeded attention. Madoc inhaled from his pipe again and waited for things to play out.

[Forest Elf]

Grimbeorn listened to what the others had to say. He thought that Kuric was being too bold for a first meeting, well, that is, unless he isn’t a stranger. Then they’d probably have expected such talk from a dwarf. As for him, he could be considered a stranger easily. Lifting his face slightly, he listened to what the others had to say. He noticed that one of the hobbit’s looked his way, but quickly looked away. Raising his face slightly he looked again at the group which he had joined, consisting of men, hobbits, and a dwarf. I wonder what adventures this group will see…I wonder how many of the have actually faced combat before, he thought to himself.

After the mention of food, his stomach gave a small grumble. Somewhat embarrassed, he said with a slight, embarrassed laugh, “Well, I say that my stomach just gave my answer for me. Yes, let’s go somewhere to eat and try to figure out who or what is responsible for the killings.”

[Firefoot]

"I'd say we have an agreement, then," said Toby, realizing that he would have to be the one to announce a decision or they would all simply stand there talking about food while no one actually had any. "Let's head over to the Prancing Pony."

Toby led the way out of the Town Hall, assuming that the band would all follow. What a troop we must look! he thought. He was thankful that the Inn was only a short walk down the road, since he could still feel the thick tension in the air, only slightly lessened as small pockets of discussion broke out.

It was not long before Toby found Madoc walking beside him. "How've you been, Madoc?" he greeted. Then noticing the thoughtful expression on the other hobbit's face, added, "Something in particular on your mind?"