Year 2947: Theft of the Moon

[Vladim]

Cilderic realized that The Bride was referring to the famed sickle of the Beornings. If it had been stolen, it would be a bad thing indeed. Cilderic had no choice but to volunteer.

"I will go." Cilderic voiced as he responded to The Bride.

Turning to The Thane, Cilderic nodded. "I am not a follower of Beorn, but I would see his people's heirloom returned. If you are looking to send a party, I have some skill and I can assist in this task if you allow it.

Cilderic sized up the scene and realized that something deeper was going on, and it was obvious that the fellowship he'd been tasked to deliver Radagast's message to were already moving quickly to address the situation. It made him wonder if the Brown Wizard had known there was something to this group of adventurers.

[Vladim]

Nori seems a bit surprised by Cilderic's eagerness to retrieve the sickle, the dwarf turning his attention sharply from Idunn, Merovech, and Guthred. He examines the newcomer for a second or two before his eyes drift to the hobbit at his side. A cynical, concerned look washes over his face as they make their presence known, but he says nothing about them. Instead, he clears his throat and looks back to Guthred and Idunn, exchanging a glance between them. "A small group might not do it," he says, his eyes now drift to Rathwulf. "How many?" he asks, almost mirroring Idunn's question with a stern tone now that the dwarf realizes he has been lied to previously.

[Vladim]

Hearing Cilderic's offer to assist with the goblins, Cheek paled visibly. Surely the man didn't expect him to assist, yet the young Hobbit knew he owed the man. As the leader-type, the north man (who seemed to be guilty of something bad that was somehow related), and the Woods woman discussed the issue, they seemed to be forming a team to track down a sickle. Then Cilderic offered to go with the small group. 'Guess there's no getting out of this one.' Cheek thought. The Hobbit took a breath, steeled himself, and stepped forward to volunteer.

Yet the Dwarf seemed to think that a small group might not be enough. No one ever thought small groups--and small folk--would be enough. But Cheek knew there were benefits to being small...

"If we're just looking to retrieve this sickle, a small group could more easily pass without notice. You also might want someone who can go without being noticed, to sneak in, grab your heirloom, and return without being found out. I'm happy to offer my services, of course." Cheek then gave a startled look around. He hadn't quite meant to volunteer, but while he was speaking up it had seemed terribly heroic and like the right thing to do. Now there really was no getting out of this!

[Vladim]

The Viglunding Thane covers his mouth with his arm, shutting his eyes for a moment, before finally speaking: "Cenric is skilled with travelling swiftly in the wilds... His men may not be; there will be a good trail. I do not know about his group's identities - likely mercenaries? ...But I am most surprised by the gall of this: stealing from the Bear-Lord? The man is a coward. He would never consider doing this himself." When the Bride mentions reasoning with the traitor, a whole storm of emotions reflects on Guthred's face, and his hand tightens on the handle of the spear he holds in his free hand. "Aye." He finally growls. "I'd deal with him, as is my duty as Viglund's Thane. But I cannot: I was assigned to protect Viglund's daughter, Aestid. I cannot leave her side."

Rathwulf regards Nori grimly, understanding the full issue with his situation. He chews his lip slightly before finally answering, with none of his past contempt or condescending tones he used when speaking to the two younger Beornings before the contest. "Four... Maybe five. Could be more waiting outside, though." He paused for a moment: "I heard one of them mention the Falrock when they were drinking together, but the others hushed him." He turned to Guthred, shaking his head, slowly getting his confidence back, as if Ethal's hand on his shoulder helped him: "...They didnt look like mercenaries. They were jumpy and nervous. None of the confidence and arrogance of a sell-sword."

"Could be just that they werent sure the idea of stealing from Beorn was worth it and were getting cold feet?" Supposed Ethal, nodding encouragingly at Rathwulf.

"Well... No point dwellin' on it, I suppose." The bard commented, listening to all this flood of information. "Longer we stay here, the further they get away. Not sure how the terrain is, or I'd offer to chase them down on Leasere. Where's Magric? This sort of thing is exactly his specialty, isnt it? And where is this 'Falrock'?" Gramtyng tried to speak as little as he could, still feeling a bit awkward from the fisco at the festival and his jokes being taken the wrong way.

"The Falrock is a section of the Rushdown where a large rock nearly connects the two shores. Long ago, Men built a watchtower here, but only ruins remain, now. If thats where they're meeting... Its a good, defensible position. It would be best to catch them before they get there." Merovech furrowed his brows, rubbing at his temples a bit as if having a headache, before looking at his cousin, then moving to each person who'd spoken: "...I think it would be best if it was you that went after all; none of you are from here, which means you are impartial to the Festival. If you're willing, I would appreciate it. Of course, I dont intend to ask you to endanger yourselves for free - I will prepare something for when you return."

 

Results

The sickle and the festival are new - Cilderic cannot recall overly much about it, except for the fact the custom is about 2 or 3 years old. The talks about the Sickle are barely a year older. Based on word of mouth, though, he's heard about it being awarded for winning some contests before the harvest is brought in.

[Vladim]

Idunn looked first to Cilderic and then to Cheek as they volunteered themselves for the task. Were all Hobbits so stout-hearted? Before she could interact with the duo, Guthred spoke, and the Bride crossed her hands over her chest and nodded. ’I understand. You cannot leave your charge, though the Thane would make sure nothing comes to her. You gave your word, after all. No matter: we can do this by ourselves.’

Idunn then waited for her companions to speak. Perhaps one of them could convince Guthred to change his mind, even if she herself was confident that they could deal with Cenric’s small group. Were she forced to wait, though, Idunn would certainly grow impatient: time was not on their side, and they needed to act quickly, not debate or argue!

After everyone wishing to speak does so, Idunn introduces Cilderic, as she feels it is her duty to do so with a fellow Woodman. ’This is Cilderic,’ she explains to the newcomer, ’from Mountain-Hall. I know him, though I have not seen him for many years… but he is an honest man.’ She turns to the Woodman, still clearly surprised by his sudden and unexpected arrival. ’I thought you were… well… dead, to be honest. It is good to see that you are not. These are my travelling companions and… friends,’ she says after a brief pause. ’We were sent here by Hartfast to speak to the Thane. Who is your travelling companion?’ she asks Cilderic, carefully inspecting the hobbit by his side but not adding 'can we trust him', although the concern is certainly on her mind. She clearly does not expect a speech, and is eager to track down the thieves before they can escape.

[Vladim]

Cilderic looked to the Bride and nodded.
"You you honor me with your introduction," he looked down at Cheek before continuing.
"This Hobbit here is my companion, nay, my friend...though it is a title that he has not born for long, " Cilderic felt the still singed part of his beard as he realized that he would most likely be continuing his journey with the Hobbit.
It seemed he may yet gain a chance to repay the Hobbit for saving his life. "He has heart and skill and he has proven such to me."

[Vladim]

The rust-haired dwarf seems somewhat further stunned by the introduction Idunn makes for Cilderic. Yes - she knows this newcomer who has volunteered to chase down the thieves. Looking between his compatriot and her fellow woodsman, Nori seems a bit baffled as to what to say. Furthermore, the dwarf is clearly anxious, the pressing matter of recovering the sickle weighing on him and causing the short and stout man to fidget and shift from side to side. "Yes, well..." the dwarf blurts out, his thoughts not exactly coming to him readily. "... introductions can wait. I'm sure you're fine folk." Nori gives Cilderic and Cheek a thoughtful glare. "But... The longer we stand around wagging our tongues, the further the feet of those thieves carry them. Is there any concern that some of us should remain here with the villagers?" His inquiry seems to be directed towards Idunn and Gramtyng. "... or shall we go it alone as your cousin suggests?" The last question is directed solely to Idunn since it regards Merovich.

[Vladim]

Idunn kneels down to her knapsack and recovers her chainmail waistcoat, made from simple but reliable links of Mountain-Hall iron. She had not worn this armour at the festival, for she had anticipated celebration, not a battle, but had always kept it near her, along with her war-axe. She puts it on and fastens her axe by her side while addressing Nori.

’If we go now, I am certain that the Thane will look after his kin. Cenric’s band is a small one, so an equally small group could quickly catch up with him before he reaches the Falrock.’

She then turns towards her cousin, asking for a few vital pieces of information, and for any aid he might have to offer, before she is well and truly ready to depart.

’How far is the Falrock, and where is it located? To the north? Once we are in the wilderness, I may be able to track the thieves, but if the journey is long, then any provisions you may have would be of great use. Best to march day and night than to lose time hunting for food.’

[Vladim]

After accepting the proposal of coming to Mountain Hall for helping at the mines, Fundor started a long travel from Erebor with 5 other dwarves, miners and stonemasons. They travelled through the Grey Mountains narrows and then towards south through the east vales of Anduin, the Old Ford and then to Stoneyford.

Stoneyford should have been a short stopover before the last part of the travel to Mountain Hall. But when they arrived at Stoneyford, it was about 1 week before the start of a festival. Fundor's travel companions didn't want to stay here more than one night as they were tired of plains and hills and eager to feel the rocky soil of mountains. But Fundor was less impatient and decided to stay and attend the festival : Mountain Hall could wait a few days and it was a good opportunity to have a good rest after a very long travel and have some fun at the Festival.

During the next days, Fundor had a good time resting and testing a quite good ale. But he also tried to meet people who were willing to spend time talking with him about the region and nearly mountains, about old legends and song, hoping for some clue of old dwarf place or relic in the Misty Mountains. He had a particularly good talking nearly every day with Old Theo who, when he was awake, turned out to be a learned person with some knowledge of ancient days. As Fundor is mostly interested in old relics, Old Theo also told him about the Sickle of Full Moon which is a very important artefact for Beornings.

At first day of the Festival, Fundor didn't participate to any contest but he was particularly interested in the Lay of the Moon contest which saw the victory of Old Theo. Fundor was glad for him as he was quite fond of the old man.

Then sudenly he heard shouting "Goblin !". He walked to the scene the voice was coming from. It took him time to approach as it was crowdy but he soon understood that the Sickle of Full Moon was stolen. Fundor felt anger fill him ! He remembered his love for relics, he remembered the emotion in Old Theo's words when he spoke about the Sickle and described it : for these people, it wasn't only a beautiful object, it was part of their People Story and it was a source of prosperity (better harvests) and hope for prosperous life. Fundor couldn't stay doing nothing and looking at dispair in common people's eyes. He though again of Old Theo and he swore deep inside himself that the Sickle would be back at his people.

Fundor worked inside the crown and soon could see the scene and hear the talks and better understand what had happened and what was going on. When it appeared that a company had decided to chase the robber and its accomplices, Fundor stepped forward and said in a loud, angry voice : "I don't know where that robber is going but I know that I will not let him escape with the Sickle ! Old Theo, I swear it !"

Then Fundor seemed to calm down and made a short bow before presenting himself to the company : "Hail, I'm Fundor, son of Thrar, from distant Blue Mountains. I'd like to join you if you don't mind.". Then with a specific look at Nori, Fundor hails his kin people.

[Vladim]

"The Falrock? To the north... Towards the Anduin Vales. The Rushmore feeds into the Anduin past the Carrock... almost at the Forest Gate. Its what... about seven days by foot from here?" Merovech glanced at Guthred, who nodded, adding: "Bit over a hundred miles." The Beorning Thane nodded, and turned back to the Company, listening to their requests in turn. "Provisions you will have. Ragnar!" He raised his voice, calling out to his son: "Run and tell your mother to gather some supplies for our problem here." The boy frowned, clearly having something else in mind, and moved from one foot to the other, chewing his lip, before blurting out: "Couldnt I go with them?" Merovech furrowed his eyebrows, warily regarding his son: "I dont think you're quite ready for these kinds of pursuits, lad. But since you've begun to show interest in them instead of Father's fairy tales, I'll speak to Odo - he can get you started on scouting and tracking."

"Grandpa already taught me tracking! But I'll take that offer!" Ragnar grinned and tried to pat down his unruly red hair as he turned and ran, Aestid chasing after him. The Thane shook his head and gave a half-smile: "Boy's going to be the death of me someday... Ethal, mind helping Ava out? We need to get everyone ready quickly." The woman nodded seriously and walked after the kids, casting one last glance at Rathwulf, who stood, surveying the tips of his boots as it seemed he found them incredibly interesting all of the sudden. "Welcome, Fundor son of Thrar." Merovech nodded to the dwarf. "That was the most active I've seen Old Theo for the last few years. It was good to see the old man so excited and interested in something beyond songs or his typical game of riddles with my father, Hakon. If you'd like to help retrieve the sickle, it would be appreciated." The Thane rubbed at his temples, considering the further course of action, before speaking again: "Your friend Nori is right. Get your belongings and supplies, and make haste. As for Stonyford, no need for concern; we've plenty of able-bodied warriors here. They wouldnt think to attack us. Rathwulf... Come with me."

"If I may..." Carefully began Gramtyng, making the Thane and his prisoner pause. "Thane Guthred - are the upper Vales of Anduin not territory well-known to you? I realize you needed Cenric for the local lands, but Idunn or Cilderic can likely help with those - I do not believe anyone of us know the far north." Guthred, attention now focused on the bard, considered his words with a guarded expression, some of his coarse manner of speech emerging: "Your point being?" The bard's smile waned a bit - it was difficult to speak to this man; nevertheless, he continued: "You were here on a mission of diplomacy. What could be more of a diplomatic success than helping the people you were sent to in their hour of need... Which was indirectly caused by a betrayal of your mercenary?" Perhaps he ought not to have said that last part. For the thousandth time in his life, the Rohirrim mentally cursed at his own tongue, which had given him his name. Guthred, however, looked thoughtful, either not caring about the barb, or too practical to mind it. "The idea has merit... But I am still oathbound. Viglund would be furious."

As he finishes speaking, a small red-haired girl in her early teens steps out of the crowd, scowling, her small arms crossed, and walks up to the grim-faced Thane, pulling at his hand: "Father would be much more angry if you let someone who dishonored his people get away. Besides..." her face dissolved into a sly grin: "I'm not gonna tell 'im!" The Thane sighed, looking down at Aestid, and looked back at Merovech, as if expecting an answer. "We'll just have her play with Ragnar, Guthred." Merovech replied the the silent question. "I promise you, I will personally watch over them. I know neither of us likes the others company..." Guthred nodded and finished the other man's thought: "...But we can trust each other to act a certain way. And neither of us would harm a child. I understand, and accept." He turned to Aestid and messed up her hair a bit with his free hand, showing a rare smile on his harsh face: "Stay out of trouble, kiddo." The girl caught his hand for a moment, smiled at the warrior, then ran off where Merovech's son was waiting for his friend. Guthred shook his head, murmuring something about unlikely friendships, then turned and curtly nodded to the Company. "Lets go."

[Vladim]

Having gathered their supplies and belongings, the Company sets out in the moonlight, having decided not to give the thieves any time to escape. Their packs weigh them down heavily, as do the expectations of the Beornings, who depend upon them to retrieve the Sickle of the Moon from Cenric and his band of outlaws. Still, despite their hurry, the progress was slow; it had been night-time, and though some dwarves could orient easily in the dark of the tunnels, the same could not be said for open air. Guthred walks at the front with a torch, muttering something to himself as he glances at the ground, but his irritation is easily visible: he cannot seem to locate the outlaws' trail. "We're not going to find the trail like this. I suggest we go straight to the Falrock... Cut them off." Suddenly, he stopped, staring to the side in a confused manner. "You are far from your forests, master elf..." His voice had been filled with suspicion. "What seek you here, and why show yourself like this? If you wanted, I'd have never seen you, so...?"

 

 

Required Rolls

The Journey has begun! As normal rules go, this means a Lore Check of TN14 to plan for a better route:
Success = 1 Bonus Die to be spent on a Travel Roll this trip.
Great Success = 2 Bonus Dice to be spent on a Travel Roll this trip.
Extraordinary Success = 3 Bonus Dice to be spent on a Travel Roll this trip.
These can be spent on your rolls or given to allies, but must be chosen to be used before the roll is made.

THE CHOICE All of you now have a choice to make, as Guthred has said: You could seek out the trail of the thieves, but at night, it is difficult. You could alternatively head straight to the Falrock.

This is a good time to mention: The company currently lacks a Scout, someone skilled in Explore. If nobody takes up the task,
when the role is triggered, the Company fails automatically. Currently, the Guide is Nori, the Huntsman is Gramtyng, and the Lookout is Idunn, but any role can have more people in it - only the Guide cannot. It should be noted that one person can only occupy one Role. During camp times, there will be chances to use up to 2 rolls - one for your assigned task, so for example Gramtyng could hunt for animals and get his friends a decent meal, and still have another roll remaining to do whatever he desires for camp purposes. It is not necessary to roll Travel yet - first, decide on if you choose to try and follow the thieves,
or head straight to their meeting-place.

Also, you have a visitor!

[Vladim]

Aerwyn had been following this company of fellowship for sometime. Lurking in the shadows and waiting till the time is right. Na'Enti knew good company when he seen it and the adventurers travelled in large numbers. With his greatbow slung across his boiled carapaces and a long spear from the Last Alliance forged during the end of the second age in the forges of Isladris or what Rangers of Eriador call Rivendell.Na'Enti lowers his weapon and raises his hand in a peaceful gesture, makes a fist and pounds his leather armor etched with the fealty of House Elrond. Travel had been long through the High Pass and over around the Misty Mountains. Aerwyn was sent to search for a missing high elf named Ellerina. Having only gained ground as of the last few days, the missing woman was not with this group of adventurers as his inquiries originally told him so. "I mean no harm. Irime sends greetings from over the Mountains and through the pass. I Am Aerwyn Na'Enti Elnyn. High Elf of Isladris and elf veteran of the Long Winter."

[Vladim]

Cilderic was taken aback. Not by the fact that the Elf had approached the party with such stealth...as the Elves are known for such things,but it was the stature and dress of the Elf that gave him pause. This was no Silvan Elf from the Woodland Realm. When Radagast had told Cilderic that this task was to be unusual, Cilderic had not expected this.
"Well met, master Elf. We hail from Stonyford on a task appointed by its master. We are to recover a taken heirloom of its people and we dare not tarry." Cilderic continued to study the Elf, noticing that the spear he carried was no ordinary weapon.
"Have you seen trace of our quarry? We track a small party of men from the village. " Cilderic again paused, but he was eager to continue as with each minute they delayed allowed their enemies to slip farther away.

[Vladim]

Fundor is new to that company and when they start the journey, he sees that nobody is going ahead to spy out the land of any threat. But Fundor has spent a lot of time exploring the Blue Mountains and has developed some skills at that. Thus he say to his new companions :
"I'm going ahead, I'll try to find footsteps of our quarry and the best path to regain on them. If another of you wants to help me on that, we could cover more ground and take less risk of loosing them"

Then, he saw the Wood Elf arrive. Fundor nod at him but says nothing. Even if his people is not fond of elves, still he knows that they have particular features and skills that could be helpfull here.

[Vladim]

As the company begins their journey North, Idunn tries to keep at the front of the small expedition, taking Guthred’s side while arguing with the Viglunding in a civil manner. ’I am not so sure.’ she says to the man, trying to change his mind. ’Perhaps Cenric is planning to meet more thieves and allies at the Falrock. If that is the case, then it is already held against us. We could be trapped between anvil and hammer, and have more thieves and bandits to deal with than we are prepared for. I say we keep trying. I will use all my skill to keep us on the track.’

Idunn is unaware of the elf when he makes his appearance, but she knows by his presence that this one is ancient, far older than the ones she saw in Thranduil’s court. She keepd silent, out of respect, letting her companions address him, but she is not going to turn down his assistance. The assistance of one as old and wise was not something that was offered every day, after all.