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Year 2949-50: Sentinel of the North


Vladim

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spacer.pngThe fire now tended to a state it would last some time before needing to be touched, Nori rises back to his standing position and turns to look back at the group. He has listened to the discussion while distracting himself with the fire. Folding his arms in front of his chest and puffing it out a bit, he casts a glance to each of them as he weighs in on the dream. "I don't think we all dreamed of the same place," the dwarf remarks at first. "In fact, I don't think we dreamed of a place at all." His brow furrows as he considers his words, Nori looking frustrated at his own thoughts.

"I'm not saying there aren't answers to the north," he continues, casting a glance at Barin before looking to the more familiar face of Dahr-Ol. "But I do believe it is a warning of some kind. I didn't feel like it was some trap - the song... the images... it left me with... remorse for something I was going to lose." His returns his focus back to Barin. There's a pause as Nori seems to summon up some courage or strength for the next few words. "I think someone was trying to tell us something... I think one of the first ones - Mahal - was trying to tell us about something... catastrophic."

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spacer.png'I saw the tower too,' added Idunn grimly, 'and I heard the lamentation for the ruins. But I also saw... something different. I was in the heart of Mirkwood in my dream, deep into the Werewolf's lair, where I had tracked the beast after many days of marching. We fought bitterly in the darkness, but before long I ran the creature through on my spear, but it bit me with mighty jaws and sharp teeth, and so we slew each other.' She paused.

'What this may mean, and how it relates to the tower and the song, I cannot say. But this was no mere nightmare.'

 

private Jewdebega, Suzuki Stumpy

When Nori name-drops Mahal, Barin should be able to recognize the name (as would any dwarf). Mahal is the creator of dwarves (better known in the Silmarillion as Aule, but your characters know him as Mahal), so it should mean quite a bit to your PCs. Though dwarves are rather secretive about this stuff, so other PCs will not know anything about this (hence the private tag to you guys).

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spacer.pngAt the mention of Mahal, Barin looked sharply towards the Dwarf who had, until now remained speechless tending the fire.

In hushed, almost reverent tones he said, "You .. you really think this was a sending from Mahal himself? Mi targê!" he gasped, "if this is indeed the case then we have no choice, no honourable Dwarf could refuse or ignore a sending from the builder himself."

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spacer.pngNori looks lost of unsure as to whether to agree with Barin. He seems to want to agree with him, but something is giving him pause judging by the gritted teeth and raised corner of his mouth. Eventually, the rust-haired dwarf speaks his mind in a guarded tone. "I'm not certain it was a sending, but...," The dwarf takes in a deep breath through his nose, his shoulders rising and then falling back down lower, showing his relent. "... we are certainly going to do no good staying here. May he guide us to where we need to be."

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spacer.pngBarin looked solemnly at the huge man.

Taking a deep breath he began to intone in a revential manner "Mahal is the maker. The Beginning and the End. It was Mahal who, back at the dawn of ages created the Dwarven race. He was known to the elves by another name, Aulë I have heard it said, though I cannot confess to know how their tale intertwines with His."

"He is the greatest Smith that Middle Earth has ever seen, able to fashion not just metals, but the earth itself."

"There is nothing that a Dwarf holds in higher regard, so if Mahal himself speaks, the wise Dwarf listens!"

Concluding his speech and still resting casually on the head of his axe, he fixed Dahr-Ol with a piercing stare as if to ensure that the man understood the gravity of the situation.

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spacer.pngDahr-Ol shook his head as Barin spoke.

"I have not heard of him, but if he is indeed the father of your race the sorcerers of the hill people would hate him indeed.

I have never heard of the Hunter communicating in this fashion. Perhaps Mahal is warning us of a cry for help and a trap? In your dreams outside forces sought your destruction. In my dream I was hunting, surrounded by wargs. I thought they hunted me. When I found my quarry I saw myself. I was in form as a warg, hunting WITH my old people. I was hunting my bear self. The quarry looked exactly as my bear form appears.

The Hillmen can walk as wargs in a manner similar to how we Beornings walk as bears. I was seeking my own destruction. That is why I feel there is some trap laid.

My father slew his former chieftain during our escape. For as long as the hill people care to retell the tale, they will seek to capture and punish me or my descendants should they recognize us."

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Before Sleep;
While still drinking in the tavern with the other Ingi had listened to talk of gathering of Orc forces. Adding his voice he said "while my people do not know too much of these peoples the old tales of traders are not to be dismissed... Our stories tell that Orcs cannot move in such numbers without some guiding force which bodes ill for us all"

Following sleep;
Ingi too had awoken from strange dreams. While still in the strange pause between dreaming and consciousness he had heard the companions begin to stir. Feeling his unusual restlessness (for Ingi was normally a sound sleeper) the pup Vefu nestled his head into Ingis chest and Munir, also half asleep in the hood of his coat pulled absently at the hairs at his neck. Listening to the reports of the others any trying to put it all together in his head he spoke aloud "I too had a dream after this pattern.... I was an archer of Dale defending the city from the first of the dragons wrath. And then a second ruined city with the same white tower standing and the same sense that this is both past and to come" Pausing to see what others might say he added "Do you not find it strange the way our dreams converge. In all the first half is ruled by our past, by the things or events that define us or our people and yet all end with the same white tower and the same lament that feels not only to speak of sorrow for the past but foreboding for the future" Pausing for breath mid frown he adds "Is it only me or ?.... At least the ruins felt of the past of symbolism but the tower was something apart, something real. No legends I know of from laketown speak of such a structure but perhaps others of older cultures may know more?..."

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Scene 3: Thanesmeet

 

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Ennalda, Thane of War
 
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Grimbold, Thane of the High Pass
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Maracar, the new Thane of the Old Ford
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Hrothgar, the new Thane of Judgement

 

If sleep came at last to those who had awakened in the night, it came with no new dreams, and no answers. But even those who could not rest could find no answers, ponder though they might. When the next day dawned, it dawned much like the one before it: with no significant news or any grim tidings akin to those the dreams foreshadowed. The winter weather seemed to be taking a turn for the worse at long last. Outside, heavy snow fell, adding to the thin white blanket that already covered the earth with every passing hour. A wind blew in gusts from the North, but only at times, and it was cold. Altogether, not unusual weather in the Vales for this time of year.

Inside, however, the hearth-fire burned warm, and the lodgings were clean and comfortable. And so the morning went by as it had before, with errands and repairs and winter preparations and tales. But by the evening, the inn had received four new guests. The companions looked at them as they dusted the snow off their cloaks and removed their boots. Some amongst them, those most familiar with these lands, could recognize them. For these were no ordinary travellers, but four of Beorn's Thanes: his trusted advisors and the leaders of his folk. Of the four, two were new additions, having been raised to the rank of Thane after their predecessors, Thanes Odo and Merovech, had been slain by orcs while travelling via the Anduin just months earlier.

Presently, the Thanes sat in the common room, discussing some matter that seemed important, if their serious tone was anything to go by. They had been discussing for long already - over an hour - but seemed no closer to a decision than they had when they started. The hobbits tended to them quietly and with great respect, with noticably less joviality than that they had afforded the companions. At any case, the needs of these newcomers were few: they asked for simple food and little drink, and did not exchange news - for they knew much about these lands already.

The companions did not go unnoticed. At the onset of the gathering, the Thanes had acknowledged the presence of those they knew, even if they knew them in passing, or by their reputations only, before turning to their business. This was done with a few words only; a courtesy afforded to them for their deeds in the battle of the Gloomy Fold, but nothing more. But now, an hour long into their discussion, they turned their gazes to them again. 'Come, sit with us.' said Hrothgar, while Grimbold, the tallest and strongest of the four, rose to join a few more tables to the one the Thanes were sitting at, to accomodate a greater gathering.

 

OOC / Mechanics

This is not an Encounter, but feel free to roll, if you want, for your interactions with these Thanes (e.g. introductions for newcomers, or whatever else).

If there is any effect on the story as a result of this scene, it will be determined by considering both your role-playing (i.e. what your PCs say) and the results of any rolls. I may or may not use your RP to adjust the difficulty of any rolls, according to the Thanes' personalities, beliefs and situation, but as a starting point assume standard difficulty on all rolls (TN 14).

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spacer.pngCelebros had watched the four figures for some time, observing at a far and remaining interested. He kept counsel mostly to himself, dining quietly with the others. The event of the dreaming sat uncomfortable with him still. The pains of loss and the grief still cloying to him like morning mists upon the Emyn-nu-Fuin. The elf was at a loss as to the significance of his own dream in comparison to the others. Surely, there was a message to be gleaned... but what?

Idly, he poked at his meal for he lacked the hunger to finish the plate. The invitation to join the four thanes drew his attention immediately back to them and with only a brief glance to the others, he picked up his meal and walked over to the conjoined tables. "Good morning, Lords." He sat the food down and pulled out a seat for himself. "I am Celebros." Gliding into his seat, he rested both hands onto the table and smiled faintly at the four new faces. "How do you and your kin fare these days?"

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spacer.pngBarin eyed the newcomers warily from beneath heavily lidded eyes.

It's true, the revelations of the night before had shaken him. There was something about the scenes of fighting the Orcs and goblins beneath the earth that reminded him vividly of the Battle of Azanulbizar. This disturbed him, since how could he know? He hadn't even been within a hundred leagues of the battle.

He wached as the newcomers deliberated something of obvious import and eventually could contain his curiosity no more. Calling over Dody as he passed with a tray of Ale, he asked after them. Dody leaned in and explained who each of the Thanes were, and tried to impress their importance on the dour Dwarf.

Still, they obviously seemed to know the others staying at the Inn with whom Barin had shared the dream. That, in his mind made them go up in his esteem since the others were obviously folks of some renknown.

Startled by the request to go join the Thanes, Barin held back, thinking that the request was for those whom they already knew, yet he watched Celebros stand and walk across to sit with them. Well, if the pointy-ear could do it, so could he, and picking up his mug and plate he shuffled over to the table and after placing his burden on its surface elicited a low bow.

"Barin Greycloak, at your services my Lords." Then, indicating the young Dwarf with him he added "and this is my apprentice Núr." gently cuffing the young Dwarf round the head when he failed to show the correct level of respect.

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spacer.pngDahr-Ol nodded politely and left the Thanes to their conversation. He had learned after the incident with Oderic, that such men carried burdens that deserved respect. If they wished his counsel they would ask.

When the Thanes summoned his companions Dahr-Ol was surprised. Many not of Beorn's people were here. He sat down quickly near them.

"You seem troubled my Thanes. Has winter come more harshly than usual?"

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Annungil recognized the Thanes upon their entry. He gave them a respectful nod of welcome as they entered the inn, but did not press upon their company, but stayed with Griffo and their Hobbit hosts, helping out where they allowed him, and spending time caring for his war-gear in the main common room, polishing his blade and chainmail, before oiling them carefully to preserve them from the damp weather of the North.

Hrothgar spoke, asking them to join the discussion, and Annungil stood, carefully folding his war-gear back into a piece of cloth, returning it to the pack. He strode across the room and gave a slight bow to the Thanes. "Well met again, Thanes. I am sure our Halfling hosts are honored by your presence and it is great to cross paths with you here," he moved to the table and took a seat, examining the four Thanes.

"Yet I fear by the tone of your words and your faces that there is a grimness to the purpose of this meeting?"

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The spear-thane, Ennalda, eyed the newcomers suspiciously as they joined her and the rest of Beorn’s thanes. She seemed cut from the same cloth as Beorn: grim and gruff; a woman of few words, and having a dislike for dwarves and ‘adventurers’, much like her chieftain. Luckily, the other thanes were a friendlier sort – or perhaps they were less suspicious, and more appreciative of those who had already aided their kin. Grimbold spoke first among them:

spacer.png’Troubled indeed.’ he said with a gruff voice to Dahr-Ol, before turning to Celebros and to Barin, who were newcomers to these lands, and had perhaps not heard of the dark tidings of that year. ’Orcs and bandits attack our lands more boldly than their numbers should allow, and darker things still stir, if the rumours are to be believed.’ He turned to Dahr-Ol and gave him a long gaze, stern and meaningful. ’Two of our thanes slain by orc-arrows, and an enemy army on our lands. We swat them like flies, but they breed like flies also. Left unchecked, they will flood the Misty Mountains again before long.’ He sighed.

’Then to the North, there is Viglund, chief amongst his people. Viglund the great. Viglund the cruel. Viglund the stubborn. When the Men of the Anduin rallied around Beorn, it was Viglund alone who defied him openly. There is no love lost between the two. He keeps counsel in his own hall, and refuses to acknowledge Beorn’s authority, and so his followers, the Viglundings, remain divided from ours, even as orcs attack both our peoples. Harsh are his lands, but he keeps them in his iron fist, and relies on thralls to cultivate his barren fields. Orcs and trolls even, some say.

It is Viglund that has brought us here, though not directly. For rumours from travellers and the river-folk speak of great treasures unearthed by his folk of late, gold and steel from a different age. Indeed, he has grown rich, it seems, and sell-swords and other ill peoples are now flocking to his banner, lured by greed and a promise of gold. For this he has called for a celebration of Yule at his long-house, to extend his influence, and indeed has offered an invitation to Beorn even. But do not mistake this for friendship. It is only a chance to boast and intimidate.

We have gathered here to embark on that journey, but now that you are here... another way may be better, if you get my meaning. If you would wish to listen to it.'

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spacer.pngRemaining quiet while the others introduce themselves and impress upon the Thane's for information, Nori remains quiet. He slinks along the outside of the gathered group, passing by Ennalda who gives him a scrutinous look - causing the rust-haired dwarf to pause and stare back at her in equal measure. She must figure he is off little harm or is simply not worthy of note as she returns her attention back to the table and Grimbold as he speaks. Nori likewise continues about his way, taking a slow path towards a stool that he sits down at, his back against the wall. As he takes his seat - about three or four feet behind the newly appointed Thanes - he folds his arms in front of his broad chest and sticks his legs straight out as he listens intently to what Grimbold tells them.

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