The Long Winter RPG

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Deep in the woods, several feet from the mangled remains of a Shire pony Ragnarok rested. He curled in the roots of an ancient tree, unsure in the darkness if the others were near. They had also laid down to rest after devouring the animal but he neither knew nor cared how close they were.

He set about licking his wounds. He was cut in many places but at least he wasn't burned like the others. His worst wound was the arrow. A fragment of it's shaft still protruded from his thigh. He bend himself almost double to reach it. Steadily he clasped his jaws about the wood and pulled. The searing pain of the head ripping from his flesh made him want to let out a wolfscream but he could not loose the shaft until it was clear of his skin.

He continued to yank slowly, his pale eyes watering with the pain. Eventually he was free of it and it landed with a thud upon the brown snowless earth beside him. Blood spurted from the deep gash. Ragnarok writhed in agony. Even a full stomach was no solace at such a moment. He passed his rough tongue over the wound repeatedly. Not for Ragnarok a healer. He had nothing but time and the need to keep it clean. He kept up his licking for as long as possible but loss of blood and exhaustion soon had the better of him.

Sleep came to Ragnarok: sleep and thoughts of revenge.

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Roth collapsed next to Ragnarok, too weak to stand proudly even after managing to eat some of the pony. Every limb in her body ached, and her shoulder felt as if it had ripped off. Wincing, she raised her head to survey the damage, her heavily-injured eye closed. She was bleeding profusely, and painfully and slowly sniffed it. She sensed that something was buried in there. Carefully probing with her teeth, they knocked against something sharp- the remains of an arrow. Roth gathered all her willpower and roughly pulled it out, spitting it on the ground. The gleam of the arrow shone wickedly up at her and wavered alarmingly as Roth's eyes watered with pain and mingled with the blood. She could feel warm, sticky blood pouring down her side. Closing her eyes, she settled into a sleep, escaping the pain of reality, the smell of her own burnt hair and flesh infiltrating her dreams.

[Child of the 7th Age]

‘I am at a loss at the moment. All the ideas I have churning in my mind don’t seem to work out well for us as I follow them to their end. We’re tired, and injured, and dispirited by the loss of another companion. Is there anything you can think of that we might do to give us a safer passage?’

Branda opened his eyes wide in disbelief as he listened to Bullroarer's somber words. He had never heard the Took so dispirited before. Bullroarer obviously did not believe that the band could withstand another warg attack. If that happened, they would never get through to Rivendell, and untold numbers of hobbits might die in the Shire.

But then, Branda reflected, neither do I think we can fight off the wargs! The Stoor fisherman searched around for something encouraging to say and suddenly found himself thinking about his Granny's words she'd given him just before he'd left the Shire:

So you're taking your bow and your dagger with you? You'll need those alright, but just don't go forgettin' and leavin' your head behind. When it comes to gettin' your way out o' a jam, the best weapon for a smart hobbit is usually craft and deception.

Branda certainly did know that. After all, he was a fisherman. The way he caught fish was not by bludgeoning them on the head. You had to think like a fish, to put yourself in the place of a fish and figure out exactly what they wanted and where they might be hiding and then outsmart them.

Indeed one of the ways Branda caught fish was to cast slimy old fish heads and entrails out from the side of the boat into the water, and pretty soon he'd have a whole school swimming around him, practically jumping into his little boat. And those darn fish were so busy eatin', they didn't even notice when he slipped nets out into the water. In fact many of them happily swam straight into them.

Branda expected that slipping nets over the heads of wargs wouldn't be terribly practical, but just keeping them busy eating seemed like a good thing, since they were likely to pay less attention to hobbits.

"Bullroarer, I do have an idea. I'm not sure how practical this is. But I think we have to start thinking of wargs as if they were fish, big and dangerous fish, but still fish. And fish are smart, but hobbits happen to be even smarter."

Bullroarer raised his eyebrows and looked a bit startled at Branda's words, wondering if the events of the day had finally gotten through to the lad.

Branda ignored the look on the Took's face and continued with his explanation, "When I catch fish, I try to give them a little of what they want, which is bait, so I can get the big thing I want, which is popping a net over their heads to catch and eat them. Now, wargs, I'm not so sure what they want. But my guess is this. You'd feed 'em a whole lot of meat, and keep them happy eatin', while you made progress down the road."

"But honestly," Branda continued. "I've no idea where to get that kind of meat in these times. It would have to be something big, really big. The biggest thing you could think of. Something so big it might give the wargs a stomach ache. So first they'd eat, and then they'd lay down on the ground to moan, and they'd just plain forget about everything, at least for a little while."

"Maybe, if we could bring down a whole string of deer, it would work. But I sure haven't seen any deer on this trip. Rabbits and fish and birds, things like that, are just too small to matter."

"I've even thought of sacrificing the ponies, but that doesn't seem like the right thing to do to old friends. Plus, how would we carry enough food back from Rivendell? We need every pony we have. And to tell the truth, I think we need something bigger than ponies, but I can't imagine what that would possibly be."

Bullroarer sat silent for a minute and then a grin played across his features, The lad wanted 'big'. Well, he could certainly give him 'big.' Nice and big and stupid, as stupid as you could get. He clapped a hand on Branda's shoulder and assured him. "Lad, your words may be wiser than you know."

Bullroarer pulled out his`map and stared down at it, carefully noting the track which led into Rivendell. He put his finger on the map and stared down at the area just east of the Last Bridge.

Bullroarer sat down and reflected a minute. He didn't know much about wargs, but he did know a bit about wolves. And he figured the two might be similar in their habits and their home territory. Those wargs weren't originally from this area where the hobbits were now travelling. They had to come from the wilderness, either east or north, where no men lived, probably in a mountainous or wooded area. Lack of food had forced them out, and that's why they were roving west towards the settlements of Men and Hobbits.

Bullroarer stared again at the map. His best guess was certainly east. Maybe it had been more than lack of food that drove the beasts out. As far as he could tell from the map, there were only two types who dwelled there. Maybe the wargs hadn't gotten along with the others so well, and they would be glad to see the others gone. That would make Branda's scheme for feeding the wargs an even better tool."

"Branda," Bullroarer barked, "This lad Tomba, is he good at things like stealing keys, or picking locks, or slipping out of ropes?"

Branda blushed deeply, "Actually, he's very good at those things, but I tell him not to do them." The Stoor looked alarmed, "Has he been doing those things again? The other day he was showing one of the other hobbits how to wiggle out of a rope, and I told him to stop."

"No," Bullroarer laughed. "Nothing like that. It's just that your words jogged an idea out of my head." He leaned over and whispered for a considerable length of time in Branda's ear.

When he finished, he called Carl over to him and pointed to the map. "We should have a few days of peace with the wargs' bellies full. I want you to ride here and see if you can find a warg lair. I suspect this is where they were originally from. And then I want you to look for something else." He leaned over and whispered something in Carl's ear.

"But is that safe?" Carl protested.

Bullroarer mused, "Well, they are a bit thick headed, so it must be safer than a head-long attack by Wargs. Anyways, we've got a secret weapon up our sleeve."

Then Bullroarer ducked out and began searching for Tomba.

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Envinyatar]

Carl was up and ready to set out early next morning, before the others had risen. Bullroarer’s instructions had been very clear, but he felt uneasy, nonetheless. Still Bullroarer had gotten them through so far and he wanted to trust the man’s judgment on this part of the plan.

He had just finished saddling one of the horses and had slung his bow and quiver on his back, when he heard his name softly called. He turned to see the Ranger coming quietly toward him, his horse saddled and trailing behind him.

‘I’m going with you.’ he heard the Ranger say. Olo raised his hand to stop the protest. ‘Bullroarer told me what he intended for you to do. It would be better, quicker were there two pair of eyes on this task.’

Carl nodded his head, then, in agreement. ‘And safer . . .’

They led their mounts quietly from the camp and headed east.

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[piosenniel]

When Bullroarer found Tomba, the boy lay sleeping soundly, exhausted by the exertions of the journey and the battle. He pulled a blanket up close under the young Hobbit’s chin and left him to sleep until morning.

*********

Carl had already gone by the time Bullroarer crawled from his bedroll. Olo’s horse was gone,too, and as he looked about the sleeping Hobbits, he did not find him there. Giles was on watch, faithfully keeping the fire built up. A pot of water had been set to boil, and Bullroarer made tea for himself, waving Giles off for some much needed rest. He made an extra mug for Tomba, whom he could see stirring on the other side of the fire, and sweetened it with honey.

‘Come talk with me, sleepyhead!’ he chuckled, handing the bleary eyed boy the mug. Tomba wrapped his blanket close around him and the two sat on a log pulled near the fire, their heads close together talking quietly.

Tomba’s face was serious as he listened to the older Hobbit outline his plan. And several times he looked up at him, his eyes widening. A certain pride grew in him as he understood his skills were counted by this man as of some value and that he was needed to assist the companions reach their goal.

‘It will take me some time to teach someone what they need to do.’ said Tomba, carefully considering what had been asked of him.

‘You will have a fortnight, Tomba. By then we will have reached The Last Bridge, over the River Hoarwell. Carl and Olo will rejoin our group there – though I do expect one or two reports back from them as we travel forward – and we will proceed then on the last leg of our journey to Rivendell.

The sun was well up by the time they finished talking. The other companions were stirring. Branda checked on the injured, saying they were fit to travel by wagon. After a short breakfast, the Hobbits gathered up their belongings, doused the fire, and headed east once more . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Dinodas trudged along the road, leading Gil behind him. The pony was still nervous from the attack, and knew what the fate had been of the stray pony. The hobbit lad sighed as he looked at his companions.

How can we possibly survive another attack? he asked himself. How can we possibly stay alive and get to Rivendell? Everyone is so tired and... despairing.

At that thought, Dinodas put a smile on his face and began chatting cheerily with the other companions. Despairing? He'd try to cheer them up. If there's one thing that would make their mission fail, it was despair.

[dragoneyes]

Gaddy was walking happily behind the wagon, he knew he should really be as happy as he was but Hal was awake and he couldn't help it. Even though Hal wasn't up and about, him being awake and talking was alone enough to lighten Gaddy's heart, add to that Daisy being awake and Gaddy had all he wanted (except for a good breakfast).

Hal dearly wanted to be able to get up and walk, he was very stiff and needed to move but Branda had warned him against moving too much in case he opened the wounds again. Still, he should probably enjoy the time he got in the wagon as much as he could, is wasn't that long ago that he'd been longing to lie in the wagon rather than walk.

It pleased Hal to see Gaddy so happy and he, along with Dinodas, brought some cheer to the three lying in the back of the wagon. Hanging at the back of everone's minds though, was the thought of another possible warg attack, with three of them down, they would never survive another one.

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[piosenniel]

The journey through the Lone-lands had proved a smooth one. Thirteen days, and the weather had held for them, with only a few sullen, grey days that threatened snow, but brought none. The spirits of the Hobbits were beginning to lift a little. No Wargs had been sighted or heard, and those who had been injured were on the mend. Still, when night came, they built their campfires high and kept in close to it, the shadow of poor Celandine and her fate still fresh in their minds.

They were a half day’s journey from The Last Bridge when Bullroarer called a halt. It was still early afternoon, but he wanted to camp well away from the crossing to the River Hoarwell. He had been on the lookout since they had broken camp early this morning for a suitable place for them to stop, and now he thought he had spied one. Nestled against a small hillock was a small stand of trees. It would give them some protection from the chilly night winds, and offer a source for firewood.

Branda approached Bullroarer once the camp had been set up. ‘Shouldn’t we be hearing soon from Carl and Olo?’ The Ranger and Carl had reported back to Bullroarer twice since they had been sent out. Each meeting was brief, the exchange of information spoken in hushed tones, the faces of the three grave. Olo and Carl had stayed only long enough each time to replenish a few supplies, and then they headed east again.

‘I’m expecting them today, Branda. They know we are crossing into the Angle tomorrow.’ Both hobbits looked about the hastily set up camp, at the relaxed and smiling faces of the companions.

Branda shivered, as he looked eastward. ‘Have you ever been into Rhudaur?’ He had heard tales of that shadowed place. It had been a small kingdom set up by the Dunedain of old, then conquered by the Hill-men long ago in league with the fell powers of Angmar. When the Witch-king had been defeated, Rhudaur had fallen and all its peoples had been scattered. But there lingered a feeling of Shadow on the land, and there were still stories told of evil creatures who roamed the wild lands and forests there.

‘I’ve been there, once. In my youth. My friends and I crossed over The Last Bridge and went only a few hours journey among the hills and woods. It was bright, day time. But still we felt eyes upon us, and a presence that did not mean us well.’

‘It will be about a five day journey if we push hard. I do not relish the thought of it . . .’

[Envinyatar]

Well south of the Great East Road, near the angle where the Hoarwell and the Loudwater joined, they made camp. Carl had wondered at the insistence of Olo that they head into this area, but he followed the lead of the now silent Ranger. To a small clearing amid the thickly forested hillocks they had ridden their horses. Olo looked carefully about the place and satisfied at what he saw, gave the signal to dismount.

‘Someone has been here before us.’ remarked Carl. He squatted near the long cold remains of a campfire, and motioned toward a small pile of wood, neatly stacked by it. ‘Yes,’ said Olo, smiling, ‘and a Ranger by the looks of it.’ Carl frowned, wondering how he had come to this conclusion.

It was mid afternoon, and they were to meet Bullroarer in two days time just west of the Last Bridge. They had come upon signs of the information that the Took wanted, and Carl had wanted to head back sooner. But Olo had insisted that they come south, to this place, and Carl, unfamiliar with this region had followed him. He had asked several times why they were headed in this direction but Olo had either changed the subject or had kept silent.

Now the Ranger crouched down by the fire pit with Carl, and began to lay the fire. Soon they had a merry little blaze going and had gathered a fair stack of wood to keep them through the evening and into night. Carl drew out his pipe and leaned back against his pack. The horses were nearby grazing. He offered the pouch of Longbottom Leaf to Olo, but the Ranger declined.

‘I should like you to stay here, near the fire, if you will. Keep your bow near at hand, though I think that this close, you will not be bothered.’ He slung his own bow at his back and made to mount his horse.

‘Close to what?’ queried the puzzled Carl, his brow furrowing as he stood up.

Olo looked at him, taking the measure of his honor. He had traveled with him now for sometime, and found the hunter to be a trustworthy companion. The Ranger shifted in his saddle, weighing his words carefully. ‘This is for your ears only, and no other. Do I have your word on that?’ Carl nodded his head once in agreement, and stood silent, waiting for Olo to continue.

‘The Rangers of the North have long kept a fastness here where the two rivers meet. It is a well guarded place, and from here they range far and wide seeking information to keep the balance always tipped toward the Light. I know that we have found some signs of the information that Bullroarer requested, but if you will allow me the time, I will glean from them all the information concerning this issue.’ He looked up at the angle of the sun. ‘I will be back before sunset. Keep safe ‘til then.’ He flicked the reins lightly and with a soft word to his mount went swiftly southward.

Carl watched him until he disappeared from sight, then brought his horse nearer to him and built up the fire. He sat and leaned back once again against his pack to smoke. But his eyes were wary and alert, and his bow and quiver close at hand.

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Ragnarok knew not how long he stayed in the dell. His days and nights were spent asleep or finishing the pony carcass. Nimue and Roth were with him. As his strenght returned he could look clearly upon their wretched state and knew he was no better himself.

Finally the moon rose on a clear night and his nostrils picked up the scent of the hobbits faintly on the wind. He rose slowly and stiffly. He was ready to seek them out.

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: Auriel Haevasawen ]

[Envinyatar]

The sun was just a finger’s width above the horizon when Olo returned. He unsaddled his mount and let it roam about at will, cropping at the short grass around the camp site. Carl had already started a small pot of stew for the two of them – some dried vegetables, a few herbs, and the meat from a small coney he had killed on the outskirts of the site. Tea water was also on the boil, and he offered the returning Ranger a mug full as he stepped up to the fire. He asked no questions, knowing Olo would tell him what he needed to know as it suited him.

They ate in companionable silence, and smoked a pipe or two afterward, until the stars peeped through the dark night sky. Olo took the first watch, saying that they should get up early, before the sun rose to head back to their meeting with the other companions.

Carl could resist the urge no longer. ‘So we have the information that Bullroarer wanted?’

Olo crouched down to stir the embers of the fire and feed the flames more wood. ‘We do. Exactly what he needed for his plan.’ His gaze went northward toward the road, as if he would pierce the darkness with his sight. ‘Though I fear that even with all the time in Arda, there will not be enough to keep us completely safe. But what we have will have to do.’

‘. . . have to do.’ thought Carl as he crawled into his bedroll. ‘Now that is cold comfort.’ He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come to him. His dagger lay ready, close by the rolled up cloak he used a pillow.

He did not hear Olo as he murmured into the flames. ‘But I have hedged our bet a bit . . .’

[piosenniel]

The sun was almost at the noonday mark when Olo and Carl came into camp. Giles and Gaddy came up to hold their horses as they dismounted, then the two riders strode quickly to where Bullroarer stood talking to Hal, Robin, and Daisy.

'You look as if you're healing well.' they heard him comment. All three shook their heads yes, reassuring him they would be able to walk the rest of the way. Bullroarer breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the route might not accomodate the wagon.

He left the three of them to rest in the wagon, and held a brief conference to the side of the camp with Carl and Olo. Carl deferred to the Ranger, letting him fill in the Took with the details of what they had found, and the information Olo had gotten from the other Rangers. Bullroarer shared his plan then, with them, and they discussed the details further.

Bullroarer gathered the Hobbits about him, and told them they would be pushing on today. Carl and Olo had brought him the details that he sought, and now the companions would move to cross the bridge into the Angle.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The party had finally made its way over the Last Bridge, and now stood in the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Bullroarer stopped for a moment to stare down at his map, and to consider the route that lay before them.

In order to do what Bullroarer intended, the hobbits would need to leave the main track and go forward on the treacherous side paths. There were two reasons for this. The scouts had reported that the main road was under constant surveillence by the two hostile groups who might attack their party. Added to this was the fact that the stony lair which Bullroarer sought lay hidden in the hills, and would need to be approached from the north, if they hoped to retain the element of surprise.

They would have about 60 miles until they reached the general area where Olo and Carl had done their earlier scouting. From there, if they survived that part, another 20 miles would lead to the Ford of Bruinen. Then, there would be a final 15 mile trek before they came to Rivendell itself and the hoped for hospitality of Elrond.

For the next five days the hobbits struggled forward to reach the tiny area on Bulroarer's map where Carl and Olo had done their secret scouting. Bullroarer had opted to leave the wagon behind on the main road, covered over with pine boughs, as there would have been no way to get it though the back tracks, which had become increasingly treacherous.

These paths were encumbered with fallen trees and tumbled rocks, and the hobbits were hard pressed to press forward a scant 12 miles a day. The scouts had managed to do their work more quickly before the last blizzard had set in. But the heavy snowfall defeated the companions' best efforts and often left them shivering and frightened.

Still, there was at least one piece of encouraging news. None of the hobbits had seen the slightest indication of wolves or wargs, or even packs of roving wild dogs. Every day they fought the weather and the rugged terrain, but at least there were no beasts larger than a rabbit to disturb their gatherings around the campfire at night.

Finally, after five days of struggle, they swung south to come within sight of the Bruinen. It was time to stop and rest and to explain to the hobbits exactly what was about to happen. From what Olo had confided to him, the original lair of the wargs lay about one mile to the south. The other place he sought was to their back, to the north, also one miles away.

Bullroarer shuddered to think of the pickle they would be in if either of these parties were to discover their presence here. There could be no campfires tonight, even if it was chill and raw. Bullroarer had saved something special for this occasion taking out a number of flasks of ale and geneva to try and keep them warm. He walked over to Tomba and Branda and spoke with them, and they both nodded their heads in conformation. Then he quietly told the hobbits to set up camp under the shelter of a neaby ridge and promised to talk to them later.

[Envinyatar]

Carl sat drinking his half mug of old jenever. He would be warm as toast by the time he got halfway through it, he thought. And too numb to care if he drank the whole of it. This line of reasoning in mind, he split the last quarter mug between Hal and Gaddy, and got up to walk around a bit.

Ole was seated on the far side of the group, speaking to Bullroarer and Branda. Carl joined them, waving off the offer of an additional drink. They were speaking quietly among themselves about the plan Bullroarer had in mind to get them through this especially hostile section of the journey. With Wargs to the south and the other to the north it would be perilous negotiating this stretch. His dark thoughts were made darker as he looked about the huddled companions. ‘We cannot survive another attack. We are too tired and too many of us still suffer from injuries.’

He waited until Branda had finished replying to a question from Bullroarer. He seemed to be saying that the more he thought on the plan, the more sure he felt it would work. Carl leaned toward hi and put his hand on Branda’s arm, drawing his attention.

‘Excuse me, Branda, but I have heard the vague hints about a “plan”, and I welcome the thought that you feel there is something to get us safely through from here to Rivendell. But, to be honest, I have some misgivings about anything getting us past the fell foes that await us. Will you tell us what you mean to do?’

Carl had spoken loud enough for all the companions to hear his words. Voices hushed, they turned their eyes and ears toward Branda.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda quickly glanced around to catch Bullroarer's eyes, and the Took nodded in agreement, indicating the Stoor should go ahead with his explanation. The time had come to share their plan with the others in the company.

Branda stared nervously into the surrounding darkness, looking for any sign of intruders or even the slightest hint that their conversations might be overheard. But the night was quiet, and the only sound was
the distant hoot of a snow owl. He beckoned to his companions to gather in a tight circle around him, and then began speaking in a tiny voice.

"This area we are in....do you know what it is called? The name doesn't even show on our map, but my granny and those who know about it call it the 'Trollshaws' because so many giant trolls live here."

There was a noticeable stirring in the circle as hobbits turned to gaze out into the dark woods, wondering what lay beyond the nearby grove of trees.

Giles whispered to Branda, "What are these trolls? Are they very strong fighters? And where are they?"

"They are an evil race of Middle-earth who bear no love for the Children of Men or Hobbits. We know there are three trolls who make their home just a mile north of here, not too far from the path where we walked about an hour ago."

At this point, they were some frightened looks exchanged between the hobbits in the circle. Everyone huddled even closer together.

Branda ignored their discomfort and went on as if he was actually enjoying his tale. "Trolls are very, very big, much bigger than the big folk, and some say their favorite meal is hobbit pie. They are also very strong. My granny used to call them Stone-trolls because their hearts are as cold as stone, and when the sun comes up in the morning, they must hide in their caves or huts, or else they will turn to stone."

Robin shuddered a bit, and then said, "What you're saying doesn't bring any comfort. Why have we come to this desolate spot which has giant creatures who want to eat us? It sounds even worse than wargs."

"No, no," Branda shook his head. "They are not at all as horrible as wargs for they have one great weakness. They are ....." Branda was a polite hobbit lad and struggled for the right word, but in the end he had to put it straight out. "To tell the truth, they are terribly stupid. And any smart hobbit should be able to figure out a way around them."

Lotho furled his brow. "This still doesn't make sense. I just spoke to Bullroarer, and he told me that the wargs have a lair just a mile south of here. That means we are in between the wargs and trolls, and, if one doesn't get us, the other surely will."

"But that's just it, we can use them, one against the other. Tomba is a master thief, and for the past two weeks he has been training Daisy how to wiggle out of ropes, steal things, pick locks, and move very quietly. In fact they've been practicing on some of us. So if you happen to have noticed something missing from your pack, just ask Tomba or Daisy, and I'm sure they'll return it."

Hal laughed and grumbled under his breath, "So that's where my pipe went. I thought I lost it somewhere" At this point, Daisy dug around under her belt and pulled out the pipe along with several other 'missing' treasures--a red hairbow, a small hammer, an arrow from someone's quiver, and one of Branda's own fishing hooks, which even he was surprised to see.

"Daisy and Tomba will let themselves be kidnapped by the trolls tomorrow evening, and then they will figure out a way to escape. They'll slip to the edge of camp and take the trolls on a mighty chase through the woods. And we'll be waiting there, waiting for the runners. We'll set up a relay, one hobbit at a time, hiding behind the trees. And the relay will lead the trolls directly into the wargs' lair."

"That way, we'll get rid of two bad 'uns at once. The trolls will be dead. After running so far, they'll be no match for the beasts. And the wargs will have their bellies so full, that they'll lay down on the ground and moan. They will be too busy to think of hobbits for the next few days, and we'll be able to travel safely." Branda sat back on his heels and grinned.

There was a great chatter and noise all around the circle as the hobbits began to debate and discuss this very risky venture.

Lotho went over to Branda's side and whispered something in his ear. "What will happen to the wargs? Will the trolls turn to stone in their stomachs?"

Branda shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "I have no idea on that, and neither does anyone else. There's no sunlight way down inside them, but we'll have to wait and see."

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl sat down and closed her eyes and said to herself ‘Trolls! My word, ‘Pa used to tell little Gabriel and all my brothers ‘bout them. I never thought they were true…." She sighed, and rocked on her heels.

A cold wind blew onto her face, and she pulled her cloak, now full of holes, around the front of her. Dafodyl picked up her mug of ale, and sipped it slowly. It was frothy against her bitterly cold lips, and it was refreshing.

She scooted next to Daisy and said: "So how do you feel be captured tomorrow? Are you sure Tomba taught you enough?"

"Well, yes and no. I don’t want to be captured, but I know it has to be done. Branda did say that Trolls are really stupid."

Dafodyl laughed and swallowed a large drink of her ale. She closed her eyes, and leaned back against the cold and stony wall of the ridge.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[piosenniel]

The day of the perilous adventure dawned bright and sunny. An omen of good fortune, hoped Bullroarer as he gathered the companions in about him. It was another meal served cold. Dried fruits, water, a few bites of way bread would have to tide them over for now. Branda had packed away the ale and Geneva, saying that their minds must be sharp and their feet nimble.

Bullroarer explained that as soon as the sun set, Daisy and Tomba would put themselves into position to be kidnapped. Then as Branda had explained yesterday evening, Tomba would free himself and Daisy and the pursuit of the two by the Trolls would begin.

‘How far do we have to run?’ asked Robin, worrying that she had not recovered enough to run a long distance.’ Hal and Daisy nodded their heads, too, glad that she had asked the question.

‘Well, I figured it like this.’ began the Took. If we count Tomba and Daisy as our first runners, we have six more pair of runners to string out along the rest of the two mile distance.’ He paused and looked out at the Hobbits. ‘Now I’ve figured it out that the distance each of these teams will have to cover is the distance from the Gatekeeper’s lodge at the West-Gate in Bree to the front door of The Prancing Pony.’

The companions began to murmur to each other, and one voice was heard above the others, saying, ‘Oh, I’ve done that distance many a time when I’d stayed for one pint too many and had promised to be home for dinner.’ ‘That’s right!’ smiled Bullroarer. ‘Just pretend you’ve “forgotten” your coin purse somewhere, and old Hap, the portly Innkeeper is chasing you down the lane waving his blackthorn stick at you. Though, I think old Hap may think a little faster on his feet than the Trolls do. Hobbits will look all the same to them!’ He chuckled at the thought of mistaking one Hobbit for another.

‘All of you girls will need to put on breeches – no skirts please. So we all look alike. And everyone wear a cap on their head.’

Someone called out the question of who would run when. ‘Well, after Daisy and Tomba have gone, I’d like Branda and me to be next. Everyone else can partner up and space themselves out along the route, hiding in the bushes and behind trees and rocks. Carl and Olo, you’ll be the next to last pair of runners. Hal and Gaddy! I’d like you two to be the last leg of the relay, and lead the Trolls to the Wargs’ den. You’ll have to make a lot of commotion, so the Wargs will be alerted. And then be very quick about jumping off into the bushes to hide so the Wargs and Trolls are left to face each other.’

Gaddy and Hal looked at each other, and nodded solemnly at Bullroarer. ‘Once you’ve sent the Wargs give chase to the Trolls, then hurry back to where Carl and Olo are and pick them up. And all of you work your way back to this pathway picking up the hidden pairs of runners as you go.’
The rest of the day was spent in idle pursuits. Everyone checked their easiest weapons to carry. Knives and arrow points were sharpened, rocks were gathered for slings, and Giles spent some time making sure his various items of importance were at hand.

Another light meal was taken in the early evening, while the sun was still up. The Hobbits slipped quietly into the woods, positioning themselves along a route from the Trolls’ cave to the Wargs’ den. Carl and Olo went all the way to Hal and Gaddy’s position and pointed out the opening to the den in the distance, then they made their way back to their position, and waited quietly.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon. Branda and Bullroarer watched as Daisy and Tomba made their way toward the mouth of the Trolls’ cave . . .

Calenedheliel's Post

Daisy quietly walked behind Tomba towards the troll cave. She was scared to death about what was going to happen. It was a lot of fun learning to sneak around and take things from the other companions but this was real and serious and Daisy didn’t know if she was really ready for this adventure. She started to think about what could go wrong and she voiced that idea to Tomba who assured her that all would be fine. She also thought about the wargs and decided that she would do her best to make sure that the wargs would not attack her or her companions ever again.

Daisy looked around the area they were in. The paths were much wider than anything she had ever been on and the foot steps she could see were amazingly huge. She had never seen a troll and now was not so sure this was the best way to see one.

They were approaching a large rock formation which Daisy assumed was where the trolls lived. She could see ahead to a large clearing, around an entrance, where it looked like the trolls spent a lot of time.

The closer they got to the clearing the louder and harder Daisy’s heart pounded. She couldn’t believe that she was about to enter the area and set thing in motion.

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Ragnarok had wearily followed the scent for so long he could hardly remember what it was the scent of, save that he knew it would give him a meal. The sustinance given by the pony was long gone and now he trod mechanically throught the snow, guided merely by his nose. If he was capable of a sigh he would have let one issue forth.

It had been folly on his part to leave their homelands. They had managed a few good meals that was true, but at what cost? Their pups were dead and they were shadows of their former selves.

His skin was stretched pitifully across his ribcage and his battle scars seemed unwilling to heal. The strength regained by tarrying in the dell had ebbed away and Ragnarok faced the fact that he too would freeze to death as had so many of his pack.

Nimue and Roth staggered along behind him, also focused on the vague smell of food but none of them really had the energy to mount chase, nor attack.

He reached the top of a long low slope in the road. Their weary state lead them to follow the easiest path, too tired to consider a safer route. Somewhere other scents mingled with the one he was tracking. His befuddled brain was focused on food alone. He breathed in deeply. Another living creature, yes, a meal may yet be had. The other scent he took to be mistake by his malnurished senses. It smelled like home. A long ago home. The home of his childhood. He shook his head sharply to dispell such a notion. His sudden movement caught the eyes of the others. They too had a keen sense of smell. It is the last faculty to fail when all others are crushed. They looked to him for guidence. Ragnarok had but one starving thought. He led them down the slope toward the scents that filled their nostrils and promised food.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tomba motioned Daisy forward, the two small figures craftily ducking in and out from behind bushes and trees, coming ever closer to where the Trolls sat. Within a short space of time, they had made their way forward within a stone's throw of the Troll's encampment. Now they stopped and crouched down behind a rock to try and listen to the Trolls' conversation and get a better idea what was happening.

For a split instant, Daisy stood frozen in the night, her jaw dropping wide as she considered the amazing sight in front of her. There were two Trolls, both of them male. Each looked to be at least three times larger than the very tallest big person that Daisy had ever seen. Tomba quickly grabbed onto Daisy's breeches and insistently tugged her down again, then placed a finger in front of his lips with a 'shh..' to make certain that she stayed quiet. The Trolls were deeply engaged in conversation, grumbling about how events had not gone very well in recent days.

"I tell ya' my belly is achin' plenty, Ted. And I'm purty sick of snow."

"Me too, George, but what yer want me to do about it? We ain't had nothing to eat 'cept rabbit stew for the past five days. And there ain't been enough of that, neither."

"Aye, little puny rabbits they was. They barely made a toothful."

"What I'd give for a nice fat man stew, or one of them other things that tastes so good! What do yer call them things that be pretty small, but real sweet? They be real good in pies."

"Ted, ya must mean them hobbit pies we had once, when Bert brought us a treat all the way from Bree. It makes my mouth drool plenty."

Daisy looked grimly over at Tomba. The lad could see the girl turning a subtle shade of green. Don't worry," he whispered to her. "These trolls look to be plenty dumb, and, as bad as they are, they don't eat their dinners raw. They'll truss us up and keep us safe until they can do the cooking."

"I hope you're right!"

"I'm sure of it."

Then the two hobbits set out to do their little deed, which they'd practiced a hundred times before.

First, they silently slipped backwards behind the trees and came hobbling down the road in plain sight of all, moaning and groaning loudly.

"Jack, how could you lose our pony? Now, I'm tired and cold and my leg hurts from when I tripped over that tree root."

'Don't blame me, Folco. I didn't lose him. He just decided to go in another direction, and he's taken all our knives and arrows with him."

There was more to their little skit, but they never got the chance to act it out. It took the Trolls only a second or two to come lumbering over and snatch them both up by their collars.

"Lookee here. A real treat! Here's our pies. Not just one but two. Now George, yer better tie that 'un up" At this point he nodded straight at Tomba. "We'll have him first. I'll just git wood for a good fire in the cave." Then he wrapped the ropes tight around Tomba's legs and hands so the hobbit was trussed up like a turkey.

"This one looks even better. He'll be dinner tomorrow night." Then the other Troll took Daisy and dropped her tied up into a big cloth bag. He knotted the bag two times at the top and set it into a locked cupboard where many bones and other nasty looking things were lying around, the poor remains of their earlier dinners. Fortunately, Daisy couldn't see any of those horrible things since everything was dark inside her bag.

Ted went outside to gather wood for the giant fire he planned to make, and George went looking for a few tasty winter roots to add to the pies.

Tomba knew they'd have only a few moments to set things in motion. The hobbit wiggled and squirmed till he managed to get his hands free. Then he rolled over by the table and found a rusty kitchen knife that one of the Trolls had dropped earlier that morning. He sawed away for several minutes until his legs were free.

When Ted came back to the cave for just a minute looking for his pocket knife, Tomba threw himself on the ground and lay very still, holding the ropes tight against his chest until the Troll went out again. Then Tomba sneaked over to the cupboard. There'd be no time to look for keys, and the hobbit wasn't big enough to bash the door open. The only way was to pick the lock. Tomba slipped a thin piece of copper out of his pants and carefully inserted it in the keyhole. With the hands of an expert, he turned and twisted the tiny metal piece until he heard the tumbrels click. Within a moment, he'd managed to open the door and slice Daisy out of the bag. The girl had cleverly wriggled free of her ropes already so they were ready to go in just a short time.

The hobbit pair slipped out of the cave long before either of the Trolls returned, and crept cautiously over to the edge of the camp. Then Tomba began jumping up and down, calling out taunts and jibes, "Hey, what happened? You didn't tie us tight enough. Betcha' can't get us now."

Ted and George took one look at their dinner escaping, and began charging towards the hobbits who took off running into the night in the direction of the wargs' lair. The hobbit relay had begun.

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Tomba and Daisy ran a zig zag course through the underbrush, trying not to let the Trolls lose sight of them. Once they disappeared around a tree and paused as they heard the lumbering footsteps come to a halt. The two Hobbits peered round the tree, and saw Ted standing in the middle of a small clearing beneath the trees, scratching his head. George had hold of a long stick and was poking it in clumps of brush crooning in his awful way, ‘Here Hobbits! Nice Hobbits!’

Daisy stifled a giggle and she and Tomba came round the tree to where the Trolls could see them once again. ‘Yoo hoo! We’re here!’ they cried, jumping up and down vigorously and waving their arms in the air. George pointed with his stick at the pair, and off they went again.

Soon they approached the place where they thought Branda and Bullroarer should be waiting for them. ‘Next!’ they shouted as they dived beneath a thick tangle of bushes.

Bullroarer and the Branda looked at each other in consternation. Tomba and Daisy were hiding on the other side of the course! The Trolls were poking in the underbrush very near the youngsters. Bullroarer put his finger to his lips and tiptoed across behind the Trolls’ backs, motioning Branda to follow quickly behind him.

Branda had almost made it to the other side, when his foot caught on a hidden rock and he fell with a loud thunk to the ground. They were only a few feet away from the Trolls. George turned to see what the commotion was, and slapped his brother on the back. ‘There they are!’ he yelled loudly.

The Trolls were almost upon them as Bullroarer hauled Branda to his feet and shoved him southwards at a dead run. Branda could hear Bullroarer huffing and puffing behind him. Several minutes later, they had reached the place where the next pair of Hobbits would be, and hid themselves quickly behind a large tree trunk.

The next two Hobbits burst out from behind a rock near the tree and took up the relay, waving and hollering at the Trolls, daring them to catch them . . .

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

It was a few long moments before Bullroarer got his breath back. Branda looked at him and grinned. ‘I thought you were a sprinter! Used to win all those races at the Midyear Day’s parties!’

Bullroarer grinned back at him, and patted his substantial girth. ‘Yes, well, and that was before the Missus and her tasty cooking, wasn’t it?!'

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl heard Bullroarer and Branda fall into the bushes only feet from her, so she grabs Giles’s hand to get his attention. “Giles! Giles! Come on! It’s our turn to run!”

With a quick grab at her cap, she and the other hobbit were out, and she saw the trolls above. ‘They do look stupid…’ she thought to herself as she started to run ahead faster.

She turned her head around and saw one of the trolls about take a swing at her with a club. “Get back here Hobbits! You two will be good pies!” She ducked, but the club missed her by almost ten feet to the right, away from Giles as well.

“Want us? Gotta go faster than that you stupid trolls!” She yelled as she looked back again. She stuck out her tongue and caught up to Giles. He looked worriedly at her and shook his head, but then they saw the bushes the next hobbits were waiting in.

They dived in, and Dafodyl caught her breath. Giles fell next to her, and he started breathing loudly as well. She checked for her knife. Still there. She sighed and looked at the new hobbit runners. “Go!!” The next two hobbits looked at each other, and then they were ready to run.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Ragnarok and the Wargs had rested in woods that nestled by the roadside, hidden by a drift of snow. Their sleep was a fitful one, disturbed by the pain of hunger and the strong smell of food in their nostrils. They knew that the meal they had been tracking for the last few days was close. They took rest in hope of gaining enough energy to take it on.

They were oblivious that the hobbits were already aware of them and were about to take them on, not by violent means, but by cunning for that is the little creatures' wont.

[piosenniel]

Ringwraith 2's Post

Lotho's heart thudded loudly, and he felt very sick. Dafodyl and Giles collapsed next to him, and closing his eyes, he grabbed Autumn's hand and both of them began sprinting. They had covered a fair distance, but both of them were beginning to tire. Lotho was much to afraid to look behind him to see the position of the trolls. He feared that he would lose spirit if he did and was just about to warn Autumn not to look back when she did, and stopped abruptly, shrieking.

"Autumn!" yelled Lotho, half-angry, half-afraid, yanking the fearful hobbit's hand back. "We're almost there!" He carried on running, pulling Autumn behind him who had gone a nasty shade of green. "We're almost there!" he repeated, and Autumn picked up the energy to run a little faster. Lotho spotted Dinodas and Robin and almost leapt into the safety of the bushes, too tired to say anything to his comrades who began running.

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's Post

"It's our turn, Robin!" said Dinodas, jumping out of his spot as Lotho and Autumn passed them, hiding behind the bushes. He looked behind him to see Robin was not following.

"I don't know if I can make it," said Robin, looking afraid. "I'm don't know if I have the strength to run."

"Come on!" he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out. They began to run. "Don't worry, Robin, you'll make it all right."

Dinodas was a very fast lad with much endurance, for back in the Shire he would go on long walks and race the other boys his age. But he found that all the strain of the journey and battles had made him weary, and soon he was beginning to slow. Robin was already slowing down.

"Carl and Olo are just ahead," Dinodas panted. "Come on!" And with one last effort, they vanished into the bushes while Carl and Olo jumped up for their turn.

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Envinyatar]

Carl crouched low beneath a small rocky outcropping. To his left he could just see Olo peering out of a thick bushy growth. 'Can you see them at all?' he mouthed to the Ranger? Olo shook his head 'no'.

They could, however hear the slow approach of Robin and Dinodas. The Hobbits' feet kept pace over the course, but the Trolls pace was slowing and often dragged to a complete halt as they scratched their heads, wondering where their prey had gone.

Carl eased over to where Olo hid. 'We need to be quiet as we approach Hal and Gaddy's position. It wouldn't do well to have the Wargs alerted too early.' he whispered. 'Let's jut make sure we keep in full sight of the stone-brained bruisers that are chasing us.' Olo grinned at Carl, in agreement.

Robin and Dinodas sighted Carl as he briefly stood and waved his hand to them. They picked up their pace and dove behind the bush and rocks, as Olo and Carl took off at a slow run in a diagonal in front of the Trolls.

Barely breaking into a sweat, they waved their hands wildly at the two Trolls to signal their position, and led them on a merry chase. 'We shouldn't tire them out too much!' said Olo trotting along side Carl. 'We do after all want them to follow all the way to the Warg den.'

They slowed the pace a little, and the huffing and puffing of the Trolls eased a little. Olo's keen eyes picked out the place where Hal and Gaddy were hidden. Running quickly, then, they dove into hiding near them.

Now it was Hal and Gaddy's part to run the most dangerous leg of the race.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[dragoneyes]

The plan had gone well so far and Hal and Gaddy were raring to go. As soon as Carl and Olo had jumped in the bush, Hal and Gaddy had jumped out. They ran full pelt towards the wargs, wanting to get it over as quick as possible. Hal, checking behind him, saw the Trolls quickly fall behind, he caught Gaddy by the elbow and the two came to a halt. The trolls were bent over, puffing, looking very worn out, it was good that they were but they needed to get all the way to the wargs first.

"What's the matter?" Gaddy called back, "Not so loud." warned Hal, "You can't tell me you're worn out already!" continued Gaddy. The trolls looked at each other, then suddenly charged after the hobbits in a last ditch attempt to catch them. Hal and Gaddy ran, not quite as fast as they could, making sure they were close enough for the trolls to think that they could catch them yet far away enough to not get caught. Hal could feel the stones he'd gathered earlier jangling about in his pocket. Gaddy's hat was caught by a gust of wind and flew off, being trampled underfoot by the following trolls.

They were nearing the wargs so they put on a burst of speed to give them more time to get the attention of the wargs. Finally, they arrived, there was no sound save that of the wind and the trolls. They looked at each other and gathered their courage, timing was essential.

They started yelling, throwing stones at the lair entrance, making as much of a racket as possible. The trolls were coming up fast, one had dropped his club somewhere. The hobbits became more frantic in their noisemaking and were answered with a low growl from the lair, that was good enough for them, they ran off to one side and hid in a bush, watching to check that they had done indeed their job well enough.

A warg emmerged, a strong male, greeted by the sight of two trolls, nearly collapsing with exhaustion. Two more wargs came out and together the three of the pounced on the trolls. Gaddy looked away, it wasn't a nice sight. Seeing their work done, the two ran as quickly, and as quietly, as they could away from the mayhem, the noise that was made was terrible. On they way back, they spotted the lost club and Gaddy found his cap, he put it back on but it was squashed out of shape and didn't fit as well as it once did. Hal laughed at the cap perched awkwardly on Gaddy's head.

Carl and Olo were standing waiting for them at the bush where they'd first started being chased. "All done?" asked Carl, "The trolls shouldn't be bothering us again." replied Hal.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Ragnarok rolled about on the snow like a happy pup. He was well fed for the first time in what felt like an age. His jolly behaviour was at odds with the horror that surrounded him.

The other two Wargs, Nimue and Roth still gorged themselves on troll carcass. The ground all about was churned up and stained a vile colour. Branches were snapped from overhanging trees. Fragments of troll skin flapped from them in the breeze. The coats of the wargs were matted with the blood of their victims. It was a nightmarish sight and yet in the centre Ragnarok gambolled like a dog a fraction of his age.

Barely a few minutes earlier he had thought himself about to die, now the whole world with all the evil that he took delight in was back in focus. He had found enough energy to attack. Need had made the difference. He was as content as a Warg is capable of. He was in his homelands. There was a ready supply of food. He was alive.

The others frolicked in the carnage with him. He had forgotten the hobbits, his stomach was full, his appetite satisfied, it was quite possible he need never think of them again.

[Envinyatar]

There was a faint sound as something moved up near to the four Hobbits. Carl pulled the dagger from his belt, ready to throw as soon as a target appeared. Olo placed his hand on Carl’s arm. ‘Hold!’ he said, motioning for Hall and Gaddy to stand nearer. The two younger Hobbits turned pale, fearing an unaccounted for Warg had taken their scent and now meant to make a meal of them.

Olo whistled, a clear wren’s trill. And was answered in turn. Two men, dressed in grey cloaks appeared suddenly. One from behind a nearby tree, the other from a thick tangle of bush and vine. Their hoods were up, obscuring their faces, and both carried bows, with arrows cocked.

‘Who are these men?’ asked Carl, as he and Olo stepped forth to greet them. Olo nodded his head to the two, and spoke a soft word of greeting. The men pushed back their hoods and inclined their heads to the three other Hobbits. They were tall, with dark hair and grey eyes. Their faces were tanned, weathered by the elements, and from them, their eyes looked keen and piercing.

‘These are two of the Rangers I spoke with when I left you that day we scouted in the Angle. They agreed to keep a watch out for us and to aid us should we need it.’ He motioned to one and then the other. ‘This is Anaradan,’ he said, ‘and this is Mirion, Rangers from the North.’

The two men conferred with Olo, saying that they would accompany them back to the main group, and would be staying with the companions until they reached Rivendell, and then returned safe to the Shire.

The six turned north to pick up the rest of the Hobbits and continued to where Tomba and Daisy stood with Branda and Bullroarer. Bullroarer’s face wore a questioning look as he saw the two Men approach.

Branda stepped forward, a frown on his face. ‘What’s this?’ he demanded.

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

For a moment Branda stood staring in disbelief at the two men. What would folk like these care about hobbits or their ways? But, as he scrutized them more closely, he saw the Men were wearing the same grey cloak that the other Ranger had worn when he'd met him at the Inn.

Upon realizing this, he relaxed a bit. Olo had confided enough information for Branda to realize that Rangers were not to be feared, but were gallant folk who gave of themself without ceasing. If there were two Rangers available to see them safely to Rivendell and beyond, Branda was certainly not going to quarrel with that.

He put his hand up to his cap and tipped it upward. "My mistake. I can see now you are Rangers so I would not question you or your offer of help. We've been hard pressed on the road, and have lost two of our companions to hungry wargs. Your weapons and skills in tracking would be sorely welcome."

Branda sighed and continued, "To tell the truth, I would dearly love to get on the trail to Rivendell as soon as we can. I can almost see those soft feather beds and good dinners waiting for us. I hope the Elves will not begrudge us those things when we've come such a long way, and at least have a few presents to give them as a token of our thanks."

Branda looked over at Bullroarer, wondering what he made of the Rangers, and whether they would soon be setting out again.

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer greeted the Rangers warmly. Any help the hobbits could get would be good in his thoughts. It was time for a meal, and the companions all walked back to where they had left the wagon. Bullroarer broke out the spirits once again, and the Hobbits and the Men toasted to smoother traveling from now on.

The Rangers stayed for the meal, thanking the cooks graciously for making it so delicious. Then they took their leave of the group, saying they would scout the well away from the companions, looking for any signs of danger. They urged Bullroarer to get the Hobbits moving soon after the meal was done. Then, pulling their grey hoods over their heads, they disappeared into the surrounding woods like fading shadows.

The Took called the companions together after the meal. Four of them were to clean up and pack the cooking and eating utensils back into the wagon. He and Olo and Tomba were going to the Troll cave to pick up any treasure that was hidden there. They would not be gone long.

They approached the entrance to the cave warily. They knew the Trolls had been disposed of, but still the cave felt dank and dark and somehow still evil. Tomba led them to where he had spied a heap of objects the Trolls had taken from their victims. There were a few finely worked pieces of jewelry, Elven craftsmanship, and these they picked up and brought back to be stored in the box for Rivendell. The rest they brought out of the cave and scattered in the sunlight, as if the golden rays might cleanse the foul touches of the Trolls from them. ‘Let the birds and the beasts have them. And whoever else might travel along this way.’ Said Bullroarer as they returned to the waiting Hobbits.

The wagon was packed, the ponies hitched to it. They headed out east once again along the path. In two days time they would be in Rivendell

[Envinyatar]

Carl was glad to see the Rangers take up the duties of scouting. He wanted just to walk along now with the rest of the companions and enjoy the entry into Rivendell. The weather was holding up admirably – sun and even a faint, sweet warm breeze, as if the Elves held back the Winter.

A day’s journey brought them to the Ford of Bruinen. They crossed the loud, rushing waters of the river and Bullroarer called a halt for the day. Carl turned to his walking companions, and grinned. ‘Just one more day to Rivendell.’

He hurried to gather wood and build a fire for the group.

*sig edited out

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The companions had gathered near the fire as they settled in for the night, telling tales and talking quietly of their plans as they ate their evening meal. Some of the conversation focused on practical matters, such as how they would manage to carry back to the Shire as many provisions as possible. One or two of the hobbits who lived on farmsteads pointed out the need to ask Elrond for a fair supply of fresh seed, if it was available. After all, they reasoned, this weather couldn't last forever, and, when it finally cleared, the soil would need tilling, and the crops planting. It was the first time they had even thought of such a thing.

Suddenly, in the midst of their conversation, there was a slight noise from just beyond the campsite. It was no more than a rustling in the brush, such as a tiny animal might make in its normal progress through the woods. Mirion quickly stood up, but made no effort to put his hand on the pommel of his sword, instead glancing from side to side. The look on his face was one of curiosity and welcoming rather than any show of alarm. He was quite certain that, if it was anything other than what he suspected, Anaradan would certainly have detected it on his scouting rounds. For, even as he stood, the other Ranger was out perambulating the nearby woods, searching for any sign of danger.

But even Rangers are only mortal men. And there are things so fleeting, so silent and shrouded, that they wholly escape the detection of Men. In any case, he'd been half expecting such a thing to happen once they'd passed by the Ford. He'd felt it in the soil and air, and in the strange way that time seemed to pass more slowly.

Suddenly, the limbs of a nearby bush gently parted, and a figure stood before them, half wreathed in shadow. Mirion stepped forward in greeting, while the hobbits looked up with eyes wide open, half disbelieving what they saw.

[piosenniel]

He was dressed in white, and his cape, caught in a sudden night’s breeze, streamed behind him like a banner catching the brilliance of stars within its folds. His hair caught the light of the fires and streamed golden. An inner light shone from him, as if the radiance of the moon and stars flowed through a thin veil. So tall and straight, he seemed a creature of such beauty that the companions were sore amazed and some rubbed their eyes as if to wake themselves from some fair dream.

‘Ai na vedui, Mirion. Mae govannen!’ he spoke in a voice keen and clear; a sound more fair than any other heard in Middle-earth.

Bullroarer motioned the companions to gather round him. ‘An Elf,’ he said in an awed voice, ‘from Rivendell.’ They watched as the Ranger touched his right hand to his left chest and bowed slightly toward the Elf. The Elf and Man spoke quietly to one another in hushed tones, in a language unknown to the Hobbits, yet familiar and comforting in the flow and harmony of the sounds.

Mirion turned toward the companions, saying ‘This is Lanthirion. He comes from Elrond to bid you welcome.’

Lanthirion stepped forward, smiling. His face was young and fair, filled with the joy of life. On his brow sat fearlessness and from his grey eyes shone a clear Elven light. He inclined his head toward them and his voice was musical as he spoke.

‘Elrond of Imladris bids the Periannath welcome. I will stay the night with you and tomorrow bring you to The Last Homely House.’

The natural curiosity and friendliness of the Hobbits slowly returned to them, and they bade their guest be welcome. And long into the night the sounds of the companions’ voices and merry laughter wove together with the silvered laughter of the Elf and the melody of his speech.

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl sat beside the fire, with a glass of ale in her hands. ‘I can’t believe we’ll be in Rivendell tomorrow!’ She thought to herself. It seemed like they had traveled for eternity, and she would be glad to eat a full meal and sleep in a real bed. She could almost feel the feathery pillow beneath her head.

She looked up, and saw the rangers and the Elf sitting on the edge of the wagon. Bullroarer and Branda were standing near them. The Elf’s eyes seemed to glisten with the brightness of Elven treasures, and his smile did not seem to have a care near it.

She stood and carefully walked over to the group. "Excuse me, Lanthirion? Do you think Lord Elrond will like these treasures that we brought in exchange for food?" She pointed to the basket under the seat of the wagon where the treasures were.

Lanthirion stood and walked to the basket. He lifted the lid, and Dafodyl came to stand beside him. He pulled out a dagger, and laid it across his palms. "Yes, this is very good Elven make." He looked to the hobbit-lass, "Yes, I think Lord Elrond will very much like these treasures."

Dafodyl curtsied and smiled. ‘Good. Now I know we can get some food and some seeds.’ She skipped back to the fire, and picked up her mug again.

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[piosenniel]

Though it had been a short night for sleeping, the Hobbits were not tired. Lanthirion sang songs for them, and though they did not understand the words, there came images to their mind of the great beauty of Arda. The voices of a myriad of creatures whispered in their minds as did the joy when the Firstborn spoke with them. The companions were refreshed, as if they had passed the night in pleasant dreams.

At dawn, Bullroarer called for the Hobbits to take a quick breakfast and pack up their bedrolls. It was a crisp morning, still winter chilled, but the sun shone and along the pathway there were the flowers of winter’s end poking through the cold soil – brave crocus and snowbells.

Lanthirion led the way, walking before the wagon, with Olo and Mirion. They moved east toward the Hithaeglir, or the Misty Mountains as they were known in the Common Tongue. To the south, they could see the great peaks of Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol. To the north, in the distance, lay Mt. Gundabad, a fearsome place, where the Orcs of the northern regions made their capital.

Time seemed to pass more slowly as they walked along, though their feet ate up the distance to their destination. The Hobbits felt light of heart as they walked along, as if a great burden had been blown away by the breezes in the great valley cut into the western foothills of the mountains.

Taking a turn north, they passed down a short path and into a glen. The group paused for a moment. ‘Just a few more paces and we shall enter the path to the Last Homely House. Elrond awaits you.’ He pointed toward the panorama which lay before them. Though the landscape bore a coat of frost, still it shimmered invitingly to the Hobbits. There were birds, whose bright songs greeted them, bidding them welcome. And it looked as if at any moment Spring would arrive and all would break into bloom.

It was a hope filled sight and the companions were filled with awe and a great longing to go forward and see and touch and hear all that they could within this favored realm.

Bullroarer descended from the wagon when they were but a little way from Elrond’s house. Elves came forth to care for the ponies, and to store the wagon until needed again. Bullroarer took the box from beneath the seat, and accompanied Lanthirion up the steps to the large entry way into the house, the hobbits following closely behind him, chattering to one another in merry speech. Happy to be here at last.

A figure strode forth to meet them, the grace and power of his presence bringing them all to silence as they looked on him. Lanthirion stepped forth to greet him, bowing slightly, his left hand on his chest. ‘These are the Periannath, Lord Elrond. Brought safe now to Rivendell. They bring gifts and a request for the Firstborn.’ He smiled at Elrond a motioned toward the Hobbits, his arm sweeping over them in a graceful arc.

Elrond turned toward them, his gaze now full upon them.

The face of Elrond was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. His hair was dark as the shadows of the twilight, and upon it was set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of the stars. Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength. He was the Lord of Rivendell and mighty among both Elves and Men.

He smiled, to put them at their ease, then welcomed them into his realm. Bullroarer he took aside when he was done speaking, and the two went into a more private room to discuss business.

The rest of the companions were greeted by Elves who had been in attendance as Elrond spoke. They told them they would show them to their quarters and then be their guides if they wished to see the sights of Rivendell.

_____________________________________________

Quote from: J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring; “Many Meetings”; 2001 Ballantine Books/Del Rey edition; p. 254.

[dragoneyes]

An elf led Hal and Gaddy to a room. It was very ornate, the windows were open, the room was light and a small breeze ran through. The walls were adorned with pictures of days gone by and each object had been intricately carved, turning them from everyday objects, to works of art in their own right. This passed Gaddy by though, instead he saw the bed, the soft, warm bed. He ran up to it and bounded on to it, lying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling, fully enjoying the comfort of the bed. "It feels like I haven't lay on a bed in years!" he said with a smile on his face. Hal sat down next to him, sinking into the soft sheets, "It is nice isn't it?" he said.

After a while of gazing around, the elf who had brought them there asked if they would like to look around Rivendell. Neither of them could refuse such an offer so they graciously took it. "Before we go," said Gaddy, going a little red, "Could we, erm, visit Daisy?" The elf laughed a musical laugh, making Gaddy feel better, "As you wish young sir." he said with a smile.

They left the room and the elf lead them towards another room a little further along, they stopped outside. Gaddy knocked on the door, a muffled "Come in!" came from inside and Gaddy opened the door. The inside of this room was very much like the inside of his own, Daisy was standing at the window, looking out. "It's only us. We've come to see how you're doing here."
"Oh I'm fine, it's a wonderful place though, isn't it?" said Daisy, smilimg a beautiful, or so Gaddy thought, smile.

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Calenedheliel]

The way that Gaddy and Daisy smiled at each other made the elf and Hal feel very uncomfortable so they quietly left the room and closed the door. Daisy approached Gaddy and tentatively grabbed his hand and said, “ In my wildest dreams I never thought this place would be so beautiful and peaceful.” “My heart feels so light and cheerful.”

Daisy took notice that they were in the room alone. She took a very bold move for a hobbit lass and leaned into Gaddy and kissed him. It took him by surprise at first, but then he responded by kissing her back and wrapping his arms around her. They were so involved in this private moment that they didn’t notice that the door to Daisy’s room had opened.

[piosenniel]

‘Gadbard Boffin!’ came the deep voice from the door. ‘By the One! What do you think you are doing with my niece!’

Daisy stepped back, her cheeks crimsoned, and her eyes wide. An ‘O!’ of surprise formed on her lips as she beheld the towering figure of Bullroarer bearing down on them. Gaddy was not quick enough to step away. Bullroarer
grasped him firmly by the collar and turned the young Hobbit round to face him.

Images of his wife, telling him quite firmly that he was to keep an extra special watch on her sister’s daughter floated through his mind as he looked the young scamp in the eye. ‘I’ve heard of your reputation, Gaddy.’ came the low voice of the Took. ‘How you like to disregard the rules.’ He let go of the lad’s collar and pushed him back to arms’ length. ‘Well this is going to be different. The Missus has set the rules.’ He eyed Daisy darkly. ‘And I am here to see that they are followed.’

Bullroarer sighed. ‘Now I know you two like each other. I’m not blind. I saw the moony looks, the calf-eyed gazes.’ He looked directly at Gaddy. ‘Just what are your intentions, my dear Hobbit with regards to Daisy?’

[ February 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bullroarer's voice had boomed so loudly through the halls that it was impossible not to hear what was happening. Tomba had a big, silly grin on his face, and Branda turned around and slyly looked towards the couple, wondering what was going to happen next.

The temptation was too great. Tomba stuck his head through the door, staring and listening intently to see what was going to happen to poor Gaddy. Branda thought of pulling the lad out by the collar, but even he was overcome with curiosity and stood silently behind him, trying to crouch down low so Bullroarer wouldn't pay them too much attention. One or two others of the company began to creep forward in the hallway, drawn by the commotion, pointing fingers and covering their mouth with their hands, as a titter or two ran through the group.

[Nurumaiel]

‘Gadbard Boffin! By the One! What do you think you are doing with my niece!’

Bullroarer's great voice boomed from the room Dinodas and Robin were walking, hand in hand. Robin had been telling Dinodas all about her first visit to Rivendell, and about all the wonderful Elves she had met. The shout had interrupted Robin's 'tour.'

Staring at each other in shock, they looked at the door. "Who is Bullroarer's neice?" said Robin in a hushed voice.

"That would be... Daisy, I suppose," Dinodas replied, shrugging.

"And something about Gaddy?"

Their eyes slowly met and they began to laugh softly. "I knew it was coming," said Robin as they scampered away from the door, so that they didn't hear Bullroarer's reference to 'calf-eyed gazes.' "Only I thought Bullroarer would say, 'We are safe in Rivendell, and our quest ends,' and Gaddy would dramatically take Daisy into his arms and kiss her in front of everyone."

Dinodas opened his mouth to say something but never got to. He had bumped right into Hal, and Robin had bumped into the Elf next to him.

"Bullroarer is pretty mad at Gaddy, I suppose," said Hal.

"How... did... you... know?" asked Robin between giggles.

"Oh, everyone heard that shout, and it's not hard to guess what he's shouting about, since I was there. I left just in time, I think."

"They're so silly!" said Dinodas, roaring with laughter. "They've only just met each other and they're fast in love."

"Ah," said the Elf wisely, looking down at the two. "But I see they're not the only ones." And he walked on, leaving the three halflings staring at each other. Dinodas and Robin began to blush, and hurriedly dropped each other's hands.

"Ah ha," said Hal, grinning broadly and walking past the two.

"It's not true," said Dinodas indignantly to Robin. "Though," he added, his voice softening, "I couldn't think of a better girl to fall in love with."

Robin laughed and gave Dinodas a teasing shove. "Let's end this tour," she said. "We don't want Bullroarer to catch us with our cheeks still pink, though we're not guilty."

"But you're not his neice!"

"I'm his second cousin, or something along those lines," said the lass with a shrug. She laughed again. "To think that anyone could think we were in love with each other!"

"Yes, that's pretty foolish, isn't it?" He spoke lightly, but there was a strange look in his eyes as they ended their 'tour.'

[ February 10, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]