Wight Fright: "Fog on the Barrow-Downs" RPG

[Mithalwen]

At Woodseaves Farm

Erling Woodseaves woke and yawned. The house was quiet, only the sound of the fire in the range and the faint murmuring of the women in the parlour next door. He half grinned to himself as he remembered none of his brood was in - there was seldom silence where his youngest child was. He smiled at the thought of her, the long awaited daughter had been expected to be her mother's pet lamb but she had turned out to be his, determined to help around the farm even when she was scarce bigger than the buckets she was trying to carry. And then she was the one who really resembled him, at least in looks. She was a living reminder of the kin he had lost in the Fell Winter, and enough time had passed for that to be a joyful remembrance. He attributed the child’s stubbornness, however, entirely to her mother.

A cold draught caught him and rising from his chair with a stretch and a sigh, feeling his years catch up with him as stiffened joints protested at fresh use after so long a day. He crossed to the window and pulled the shutter ajar. It was snowing - the hedges and outbuildings already had alight coating and it had even begun to settle in the yard. It was too early in the year for this he thought. He looked for a glimmer of waggon lamps guiding his children safely home and hoped they would not be long. Erling was no less happy than Sukebind to have them under their roof - no matter how noisy they were. He found a bit of rag to stop the draught and closed the shutter; he’d make a proper repair in the morning.

Erling went through to the parlour where he was informed his announcement that it was snowing wasn’t news to those of them who hadn’t been asleep for the past hour. But he continued beginning to fret though he knew it wasn’t really so late yet.

“They should be back… not a night to be out unless you have to … you and Silas better stay here tonight Fern…. Jessie will be frozen – did she even take a cloak this morning? “

“She won’t be frozen at the Boffin’s - that smial of theirs is cozier than any house ..”
Erling noticed Fern flinch - “What ails you lass? The child…?”

“No, I’m fine..” Fern could keep her secret no longer .. “It is Jessamy..she's not at the Boffins'” .
Within five minutes Erling was on his way into Bree-town.

On the Downs

Jessamy was frozen. She had given her cloak to cover Edwin - not that it was doing him much good and though the old sweater she wore had felted when it shrank in the wash, it wasn't enough to keep the out the snow's damp. She could scarcely feel her feet or fingers and there was a dull ache behind her forehead - the only part of her that had any heat in it.

Jessamy stumbled on, still beside Karl. The mounds and menhirs seemed even more sinister under their snowcovering and she was beginning to think they had passed them more than once. The fading light and fast falling snow were so swiftly obscuring their tracks. It was so hard to keep one's head here..even if it weren't swimming. It also seemed to be getting a bit foggy.

Neither she nor Karl had the inclination to talk. It would waste energy and since their predicament, specially Edwin's were the only likely subjects it wasn't going to be cheering. All she could hear was her own footsteps, Karl's heavier tread and the softer, quicker sound of Duke's paws dipping into the snow. But after a while she fancied she heard something else. Distant but definitely there. A rhythmic thud accompanied by random creaks and rattles. She was beyond reminding herself that twice today she had been scared by sounds that had turned out to be nothing more sinister than a skunk and a dog.

All she could remember was Seth's bedtime story, still vivid three years after it was first told with its clanking chains and pale swords and evil spirits, thralls of an undead king, who would come to find her if she weren't good and would trap her in his barrow. And she hadn't been good. Now she could hear what her mind, all reason fled, told her was a barrow wight plodding relentlessly towards her, rattling his sword and dragging chains to bind her. She had turned to face the sounds and now backing away from them, she bumped against a standing stone. Its touch might as well have been a wraith's embrace for the effect it had on her. Terrified out of her wits and with no strength and nowhere to run she screamed as if her soul were being torn from her body, and struggled to get away from the monstrous stone. For the third time that day she fell. But this time there was pain. And darkness.

[Envinyatar]

From the beneath Willem’s cloak, Jumble’s ears snapped to attention. His left ear swiveled forward, the right to the side, the better to pinpoint where the horrid scream was coming from. There! he thought with a small woof. He poked his head out from the thick folds of wool, lifting his long snout to the winter night’s air.

‘You heard it, then, too?’ Willem said, tucking the dog up onto his lap. The awful, high-pitched howl had stopped abruptly, leaving only the blanket of the normal forest sounds to fall around them once again.

‘Wotcher think, m’lady? Over there?’ he said tugging on the right rein. ‘And a bit ahead of us, too, eh?’ Catkin nodded her head and shook her mane, sending a little dusting of snowflakes flying. For his part, Jumble danced from paw to paw, making his own statement of accord.

Catkin picked up her pace, veering right through the trees. The lantern which hung from the forward eave of the caravan swung wildly with the increased speed. Hanging from hooks beneath the eaves, the tools and chains and pots waiting to be mended clanked and rattled even more loudly against the wooden sides.

There in the distance, flickering from opening to opening between the trees as the trio made their way toward the scream’s source, was a small light.

‘Who’s there?’ Willem called out as loudly as he could. But against the distance and the wind and snow and thickets of trees, he doubted he would be heard at all.

[Mithalwen]

In Bree-Town

"Filbert, maybe you can explain to me exactly what is going on?"

Erling Woodseaves walked to the town reasoning that by the time he had saddled the cob he would be half way there and believed that he would arrive to find that Jessamy would have already been rounded up by her brothers and they would all be back before they knew it. Thus he had tried to reassure his wife and daughter-in-law. But real or feigned his confidence had dwindled as he progressed to the Inn. The keeper of the South Gate had been unusually taciturn and it seemed that rumours murmured about Bree, which fell silent as he passed. Now he had finally caught up with his youngest son and demanded explanation of the few fragments that had reached his ears, of the Downs and missing children, some returned some not.

Erling loved all his children and had more than a little sympathy for Filbert. It wasn't his fault he had been born a boy when a girl had been hoped for, that he had neither the privileges of eldest or youngest child, that he had neither Seth’s striking good looks nor Bryn’s easy nature, that he had struggled to find his niche. But he had to concede that the lad didn’t always make things easy for himself and there was something shifty about the lad’s demeanour that suggested that this might be one of those occasions.

“Where is Jessamy? Where are your brothers?”. No reaction that Filbert might have feared to his answer was as horrible as his father’s silence as he absorbed the news .

On the road

Jessamy's brothers had reached the point on the road, as far as they could judge from the boys' garbled and confused reports of their adventures, where Edwin's group had left it to head towards the mounds and stones.

Night was not now far off and the landmarks, so obvious in the day were now little more than shadows in the murk.

"They say the trees of the Forest walk and now I believe it - I did not think it so close" remarked Seth noting the deeper shade on the horizon.

"I think it is in part a trick of the light - or lack of it -and the lie of the land... but it does seem to have spread since that map in the Pony was drawn," answered Silas not wanting to think about walking trees as well as the evil spirits that were meant to haunt the barrows. What could be regarded as fairy stories from the safety of one's own hearth seemed a lot more plausible here.

"How are we going to find her in this? It'd take a blood hound" Seth despaired

"Which is about the one thing we haven't brought with us. But we have to try - because if we wait for light chances are we will be looking for her body". Bryn might not be troubled by imagination but was quite aware of the more mundane but very real dangers of the cold. Before his brothers could reproach him for saying what they were all thinking, they heard in the distance a horrible but not unfamiliar sound. They might have done so with less malice than their brother but all three had teased Jessamy beyond the limit of her endurance.

On the Downs

Jessamy came round to Karl calling her name, offering her his free hand to help her up but her mind was so mazed she scarcely registered him let alone the pain in her ankle. She cowered against the stone, still clasping the lantern, gibbering about a wight coming to get her and completely unable to hold back the sobs that had threatened for so long.

Still there was that terrible noise getting ever louder and closer. Surely Karl must hear it? The dog, Duke, heard something seemingly for he pricked up his ears, inexplicably barked as if for joy and belted off towards the approaching clatter.

[Durelin]

Karl tried to tell himself to consider all the possibilities for the source of these noises. He tried to remind himself that he had been on these Downs numerous times, and even into the edges of the Old Forest. But all his mind choes to recall was that he always did so in the daytime...and the dark was starting to come quite early this time of year.

He was so caught up in straining to hear every sound around him and see every stone and shadow around him, while keeping Edwin's sleeping form balanced as best he could -- he was so caught up in this that he rather lost track of Jessamy for a moment. When he heard the scream his heart and breath stopped in his chest.

He whirled around to find her and rushed to help her up and still keep a hold on Edwin who was feeling heavier and heavier. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself?"

Once she was fairly standing, though looking pale with fear and cold, he turned from her to the direction of the sounds and back again. Then Duke's bark reminded him of his familiar companion's presence and he watched as the dog bolted off -- again -- toward whatever he found interesting.

Karl's breathing relaxed a little. He should have payed more attention to the dog from the start. "Well Duke doesn't seem to think whatever it is is a problem...I think we're alright, Jess." He may not be the best trained hunting dog because Karl failed to ever be stern enough, but his instincts were usually in the right place.

[Envinyatar]

The light was still shining between the trees, less faint now as Catkin quickened her pace through the falling snow. ‘The Old Man does shepherd his herd tonight, I think,’ Willem spoke, to the wind and the drifting flakes, his eyes taking in the occasional shadow that moved across the distant gleam.

He strained his hearing to catch another sound of that high pitched scream. Here and there from numerous directions came the creaking of large wooden branches as the wind moved through them…..though, likely, too, they’d be the great hoary roots of the trees as they moved over the wintry forest floor. No scream, though.....no keening howl…..

It was Jumble, his nose to the cold, biting air and his head cocked to catch what sounds he might that heard something approaching as they traveled on. He gave a bark and a whine of anticipation, his body snapping to attention on the seat beside Willem.

A large, dark, four legged shadow came loping out from under the shadowed branches of the nearby trees. Willem squinted his eyes, trying to make out the animal as his hand strayed to the large ax tucked at the side of his seat. Catkin came to an abrupt halt, her ears flicking nervously. She pawed at the ground, intending to strike the beast if it came close to her.

But Jumble caught the intruder’s scent and began wagging his tail furiously. He barked, a definite bark of welcome and made his way down to the ground.

‘Why, look at that!’ Willem called out to his horse. ‘We know that fellow! It’s Duke, Karl’s dog!’ ‘See, Jumble knows him,’ he went on in an assuring manner to the skittish Catkin.

He set the brake and jumped down. ‘What’s the matter, pup?’ he said, running his hands over the large dog. Duke looked alright, no wounds, no signs of a fight about him. ‘Where’s Karl, boy?’ Willem narrowed his eyes and looked into the distance, the way from which the dog had come.

‘Can you take me to Karl?’ Duke goggled up at him, an expectant look on his face. ‘Karl,’ Willem said again, ‘Find him.’ Jumble nudged the larger dog with an insistent push and gave an imperative whine as he ran a little ways back down Duke’s path and then circled back.

‘That’s right! Go with Jumble, Duke.’ He climbed back to his seat and urged Catkin forward.

Back and forth the two dogs ran, keeping the wagon on track, until at last they broke from the tree line. A short ways away Willem could just make out two figures, near one of the standing stones. One tall, the other much smaller, like a child. And the bigger one appeared to have something slung over his shoulder like a large, lumpish sack.

‘Karl! That you, man?’ Willem called out, bringing the caravan to a halt. ‘It’s me, Willem. You alright? You hurt?’

[Mithalwen]

"I think we're all right, Jess" Karl's words weren't enough to completely reassure Jessamy, but they were enough to stop her from screaming again. She hobbled closer to Karl as best she could and had wit enough remaining to be embarrassed that she had hurt herself falling, yet again, and worse that she had fainted. Filbert would never let her hear the end of that if he found out.

But oh her head felt so fuzzy and she could scarce put weight on her ankle and that noise was still getting closer. But suddenly Duke was back with another dog, a smaller, odd-looking mongrel and then the caravan came into sight and it's driver was calling Karl's name. Maybe they were going to be alright after all. She relaxed for a moment and then remembered Edwin,

it was horrible seeing him like that and though she stayed close by Karl's side she could not bear to look at the boy. Instead she looked at the caravan. It was the most marvellous thing to a child's eyes - especially one with such a fondness for stories. It looked like a wonderful Wendy house on wheels with its colours bright as a child's painting, and it was drawn by a pretty grey mare, bigger than Silas' ponies but finer than the farm horses. Maybe she was still dreaming. How could a real person have such a fantastic home. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she tried to make out if the driver were a Wizard. She knew they existed - they said one visited the Prancing Pony from time to time. If he were a wizard, maybe he could magick Edwin better?

[Envinyatar]

Willem climbed down from the caravan and hurried over to Karl. A quick look assured him the man was alright. His gaze dipped down to fix on the young girl who hovered near Karl. She looked cold and pale, and a little frightened – her eyes large as they slid from him to his caravan and back again.

‘Oh, little darlin’,’ he said softly, crouching down to her level. ‘You look cold as the North Wind’s nose.’ ‘Here,’ he went on, swinging his thick wool cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it round hers. ‘This should warm you up a bit and keep the snow from creeping in.’ He pulled the generous hood up over her hair so that it shielded her face.

‘And what’s that you’ve got slung over your shoulder, Karl?’ Willem peered more closely at the limp bundle. ‘By the One!’ His eyes went wide as he took in the seeming lifeless body of the boy. A ghastly shade of pale and so limp, though Willem noted a flicker here and there beneath the lad’s bloodless eyelids. ‘Where do you wander, boy?’ he said, brushing Edwin’s hair back from his face. ‘Are you lost?’ He took Edwin from Karl’s shoulder. ‘We’re here, you know…..turn and come back….’

‘Let’s go into the wagon,’ he said, nodding his head toward the caravan. ‘I’ll light the lanterns; it’ll be a bit warmer. And we can lay this one on the bunk, under a stack of blankets.’

[Durelin]

Karl wondered a bit at Willem's way with Jessamy. He seemed to interact with her with ease, and know exactly what to say. People in general were never particularly easy to interact with, and children least of all. Karl did not find them bothersome, but he just was not sure how to handle them.

Willem left and Jessamy's mind seemed to follow him out. It seemed she was greatly intrigued by this man, for which Karl couldn't blame her. He was more confused by him than intrigued at this point, but maybe that was just because he had some catching up to do, when Jessamy's mind had already run far ahead.

The thoughts she shared certainly were too fast and too far ahead for him. Karl was mulling over what she said, trying to connect it all, and of course trying to come up with some reasonable response. He couldn't go encouraging her to believe in certain things, particularly since her parents may not want her to believe in certain stories. He didn't think there was really a problem with believing in them, at least for a while...and then even at his age believing in parts of them. Karl believed in the sort of evil that a barrow-wight embodied, whether they were evil dead men or evil spirits in their bodies...well he didn't know about any of that, or any of their magic songs. But he knew there was plenty to fear in this world, even now.

He looked at Jessamy. And yet even she could take it all in stride. Or perhaps she could better than most.

Karl had almost decided no response was necessary, and then Jessamy brought his mulling to an end. All of a sudden she was worried about Willem being cold? As he had thought...all in stride. No reason to sit around worrying about wights and wizards, whether they were good or bad...worry about other people and whether or not they were cold.

Karl smiled and followed Jessamy out, feeling the need not to let her out of his sight. Sure Willem was right outside, but...well, the way the evening had gone, he didn't assume anything would be the way it should. Which meant perhaps that he had absolutely no reason to think Willem couldn't be a wizard. He glanced at Edwin's still sleeping form before heading toward the doorway of the wagon.

No, there was no Willem. But there were others...Jessamy's official rescue had arrived.

Karl observed the reunion, watching the shapes at the edge of the fire light. He stayed in the doorway, not wishing to interrupt. Duke of course had no sense of manners, and was happily barking at the new arrivals. "C'mere, Duke," he said, getting the dog to come sit near the caravan, away from both the poor horse and the family reunion. "Now shush."

He stepped down the stairs but stayed near the door, peeking in at Edwin again before closing it behind him to keep out the cold. He scanned around the edge of the fire, wondering where Willem was. Could something have happened to him? Surely not, considering the type of man he was. But one could have too much confidence and not enough caution, even on the road.

Karl walked over toward the boy's cart and Duke followed, wagging and twitching but resisting the urge to bark and jump at all the new people. "Did you run into any trouble on the trip out here?" If Willem had found trouble, perhaps the boys had run into it too.

He felt like he should perhaps explain things, but Jessamy had already told them the necessary pieces of the story it seemed. And what was he to say, other than reassure them that their sister was alright, even with him. He was a little nervous about what these young men thought of him, but he was also a touch disappointed that he was no longer a rescuer at all...now that he had been rescued by Willem, as well. But mostly, of course, he was just relieved. Perhaps he could even avoid the entire trip back to Bree-town, and the awkward return to parents.

[Mithalwen]

Jessamy looked at Bryn gratefully. Even so she felt the need to firmly establish Karl as a hero "I don't know what I would have done if Karl hadn't found me" she said "I was so scared and so cold. And he was bringing me home but then we found Edwin and ... he couldn't walk and Karl had to carry him so it was taking ages, and I and sprained my ankle ...so when we met Willem..." She was desperate for her brothers to realise that she hadn't been delaying on purpose and was relieved when her brothers stopped their bickering and went to thank him, apologising for the trouble their silly sister had given him.

"Trouble? Apart from the snow and the dark and going round in circles and being worried sick about this one even before she screamed like a banshee? - what was that about Jessie? - Well Seth reckons he saw a bear in the forest - does that count"

"We all saw the print Bryn ... don't pretend we didn't "

"We don't know it was a bear though... "

"Well what else woud it be? It certainly wasn't any sort of dog - not that shape, not that size - and whatever it was it put the wind up the horses "

"I screamed because we heard the chains rattling on the caravan before we saw it and I thought it was a Barrow wight" - Jessamy finally got a word in edgewise and looked accusingly at Seth, who had the grace to look embarassed. "That is when I fell and hurt my ankle"...

She wished Willem would return. She knew that getting her home would be the next thing on her brothers' mind and part of her wanted nothing more to be back there. But being in Willem's caravan was like being in a fairy tale and she was loathe to leave it so soon.

[Envinyatar]

Willem hopped about on one exceedingly cold foot, trying as quickly as he could to pull on a sock and cram his other foot into a boot. ‘Thorns and thistles!’ he muttered, brushing the snow from his cold bare foot. He pulled his other sock on and jammed his now nearly numb appendage into its boot. It was at times like this that he wished he could just stay in bear form. His clothes, which he’d stowed on the low bough of a tree, were chill against his skin. And no amount of rubbing his hands together brought any of the sought warmth to his fingers. Teeth chattering a bit, he hurried in the direction of the little fire at the back of his caravan.

The brothers’ horses snorted as he drew near them. Arching their necks, heads held high, they whinnied and stamped the frozen ground. ‘S’all right; hush, hush now,’ he spoke low to them as he ran his hand along the side of the one nearest him. The urgent whinnies changed to quiet nickers as they crowded near him, nudging against his torso with their muzzles.

‘Now, don’t knock me down little darlin’s!’ Willem said with a chuckle. ‘I’m cold enough as it is!’

He felt the men’s eyes on him as he turned about and stepped toward the little group. ‘I’m Willem,’ he said, offering his hand in greeting. ‘And you must be Jess’ brothers. I can see the resemblance.’ He smiled, his eyes twinkling. ‘I’m so glad you found your way here.’ Behind him, one of the horses snorted, as if amused at some private joke.