Jari the Dwarf waits for the Company a short distance outside Bree, in a sheltered dell north of Bree-hill. The Company finds him crouched over a campfire, merrily frying up a breakfast of bacon, sausage and egg. Diarmoc is there as is the young Thomas Pickthorn. Nearby, four fine ponies crop the long grass. Jari jumps up and greets the adventurers. “Friends! Eat, eat. We have a long journey ahead of us before we find my Great-uncle’s treasure, so let us put a little food in our bellies ‘ere we march.”

Haldan wakes early, and heads downstairs to settle his account with Butterbur before heading out to the stables to collect his horse. Silvermane has been a constant companion on his journey from Dale, but is probably as eager as Haldan was to get moving again.

"Good Morning, Gentlemen." The smell of breakfast cooking on an open fire was a welcoming start, but didn't do much to ease Haldan's suspicions about their new travelling companions. Nevertheless, he quickly tucked in, "It's never a good thing to travel on  an empty stomach. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated."

Aldaron strolls up alongside Haldan, walking afoot rather than mounted.

He's sorry to see Thomas's mother didn't manage to discourage the youth, and Diarmoc's presence casts a pall over the morning, but the smell of breakfast is enticing.

He skipped food at the Prancing Pony. Not wanting to spend more than he could afford, so he is glad to tuck into Jari's offered food and says so, thanking the dwarf.

The sky is still hazy, and early spring in Eriador, even in Bree Land, can be cold, throwing off the last chill of winter. Aldaron squints at the clouds, noting their speed. It could be a day of mixed weather for travelling. He wonders how Thomas will fare. The lad has likely not ventured further from Bree in his whole life.

He chews his bacon, thoughtfully. "Those are fine ponies, master Jari. A credit to you, as is this breakfast."

Nor trundles up as well, separately so as to raise less suspicion, though also separately because he ate more, much more, than his fill at the Prancing Pony's breakfast.  And might have stuffed a few of their rolls in his pack...hard to know when your next foods are coming on the trail.

He's ruddy in the face then, as he puffs up on the scene.  "Well folks.  Hail & Good morn, good indeed!  Our fearless leader Jari; Diarmoc; Thomas, yes, and Swiftblade."  Nor nods to each in turn, acknowledged or not.  "Aldaron, we met last night, but good to see that you're here again."  Nor slung his pack to the dew-covered ground, and took a small drink from his skin.  "Ooof, did I eat this morning!  Not one to turn down a piece of bacon or a nice sausage, though.  I can make a lil room inside, somewhere, I'm sure!" He adjusts the broad-bladed cleaving sword he wears, and takes the twin throwing axes out of his belt, unceremoniously dropping them on his pack before using his dagger to spear a nice slice of bacon and two links.  He gestures to his left "The ponies to ride, eh?  That's a fine thing, Jari, a fine thing.  And ponies come useful with hauling the loot back again, eh?"

Aldaron smiles at Nór. They arrived separately as the dwarf suggested, and Aldaron thinks it was a wise precaution. Diarmoc's eyes are far too sharp for his comfort. Better he not suspect they are as close as they are. Still, with the dwarf and Haldan accompanying him, the Diarmoc's ill-favoured presence is less of a burden this morning and he finds he is almost looking forward to the adventure.

And, of course, between them, he hopes they can keep Thomas from peril until the lad has the chance to at least consider his choices.

He turns to Haldan, still chewing on a mouthful of bacon. He has few of Milton's reservations about manners, having spent too long alone on the trail. Thinking of the hobbit brings a smile to his face. He wonders how the other companions are faring, but just about manages to resist the urge to look for them.

He waves a fork of sausage at Silvermane.

"That's a magnificent horse, Haldan. Silvermane, is it? I know little of horses, but even I can see he is a noble animal."

"Aye, Silvermane it is. He's a decent beast alright," Haldan strokes the horses mane, "been with me all the way from Dale. Crossed the mountains without a complaint."

The horse almost appears to understand it's the subject of their admiration. Aldaron would swear it was actually preening, pulling itself upright with a proud glint in its eye. He smiles and shakes his head.

This is not a group he would be eager to ambush at all.

"Master Jari, how far will we travel today? I know the lands hereabout passingly well..." In truth, most of his time has been spent in the wilder lands, closer to the mountains, but he has come to Bree often enough that he hopes not to get lost before they spy Weathertop, at least. "If you share our course, it might help us be ready for what we'll face."

And suggest good spots to leave traces for Gert, Perry, and Milton. He knows Gert's skill. An occasional print in mud, one or two of Nór's ribbons or buttons. She would need less than Jari or Diarmoc might imagine.

The sky is overcast and the sun show itself from time to time in in the pale spring sky. The terrain around Bree is gently sloped and covered with still yellow grass but most of the trees show some budding. A light breeze brings fresh and earthy fragrances as the lands prepare for another growing season.

Jari stuffs his face with sausage and speaks at the same time. "Yes, the ponies will spare our backs when we return laden with treasure. Right now there's provisions in their bags. I suppose you could ride them in a pinch but I wouldn't want to wear them down unnecessarily." He stuffs the last of the bacon in his mouth, licks his fingers and turn to Aldaron. "We will go north from here, between the Chetwood and the Midgewater marches for the first leg of the journey." He avoids a direct answer to the question of precisely where you are going.

Young Thomas doesn't say much, just keeps his walking stick in a sweaty grip and stares wide-eyed at everything at once. Diarmoc is also tight-lipped but instead stares sullenly into the fire.

---

See the map for group 0 for this part of the game. I will update it as we go.

Haldan gets up, and checks that his sword is hanging confortably in it's scabbard. then walks over to Silvermane, who is quietly grazing a little way from the fire. Taking the reins and giving the horse a light scratch between the ears, he whispers, "C'mon my friend, it's time to go; keep your eyes and ears open."

"Lead on master Dwarf, show us the way and we will follow."

With a hobbit's reluctance, Aldaron leaves the rest of the sausage and wipes his hands on the grass. Eat when you can, so he was taught. You never know when you'll find your next meal. Long days tracking orcs across the Ettenmoors had resulted in more than a few missed meals in the past, comfort sacrificed to speed.

Now, he tightens his blade across his shoulders and watches as Perry and Nór make their own preparations. He takes a step closer to Thomas. "I hope it will be easy going to start," he says. "You'll be fine if you keep wits about you and eyes open. Stay close to me, to the rest of us, and you'll fare well, Thomas."

Despite words aimed at easing the lad's anxieties, his own remain. He eyes Diarmoc while the man is otherwise engaged. That Jari might have stolen the treasure they seek he can understand. Where Diarmoc fits in this scheme... well, it remains to be seen.

Jari eventually motions for everyone to gather their things and leads the party north along the edge of the Chetwood.

Thomas gulps as the ranger speaks to him but collects himself and nods, determined to not make a fool of himself. He's going on an adventure!

---

Event target for this leg of the journey are LOOK-OUTS. You have entered into Dark Lands now so the journey event roll I make will be ill-favoured.

Haldan takes his place in the marching order, leading Silvermane behind him as they make their way along the edge of the Chetwood. He keeps a watchful eye on Jari and the Dunlending - he doesn't trust them, and is on the look-out for any changes in their demeanor that may indicate trouble ahead. It's good to be on the road again, and the walk is not unpleasant. The forest appears delightful in the morning sunlight and Hal can hear the distant call of birds, but Midgewater Marshes to the east seems less inviting and he hopes their path doesn't lead too far in that direction.

Aldaron has nothing against Bree. On balance, the village is a pleasant enough place, and he finds the people a fine enough selection. No, it is not the village; it is the stout walls hemming him in that he dislikes. He has spent too long walking the trails and byways of the wilds; he is more comfortable outside, more at hime in the Chetwood, even the sodden edge of the Midgewater Marshes.

He pauses as they leave the road, taking a clumsy step into soft mud, his print marking the direction of travel for Gert’s keen eye.

Once off the road, they are entering perilous lands. He has never hunted orcs this far south, but he doesn’t discount the possibility of unseen peril even this close to Bree. As the party pursues its line of march, Aldaron strings his bow. He prefers the sword, but the bow offers the chance to bring down a rabbit, or a deer.

Even an orc.

Jari may be a thief and a liar, but he has shown himself a passable cook. A cut or two of venison would be a welcome addition to lunch. There’s another reason, too. Hunting gives him a reason to range further afield, far enough that he can blaze an occasional tree, or scuff a mark or two on the trail. He doubts Gert or the others need it, but too much help hurts no one.

Nor's content to walk along as well.  He'd like to be behind Jari and Diarmoc, but it's early still, and the cookfire was enough marker for nearly anyone, he's sure of it.  So no matter where he is in the order, he trundles along happily.

Haldan moves to the side to allow Nor to pass. "You go ahead master Dwarf," he chuckles. "You're not going to see very much walking behind a horse."

In the afternoon you pass between the Chetwood and the Midghewater march before you turn slightly eastwards toward the Weather Hills. Jari keeps engaging you in conversation, asking about where you come from, why you have gone wandering, or what you will do with the vast treasure you are sure to find in the hidden valley. Along the way Jari also tell you more of his Great-uncle Bori. Jari claims that his family has always been unjustly mistreated by the jealous Dwarves of the Blue Mountains, and that his uncle was a traveller and treasure-seeker of renown. Why, he entered into lost Dwarven cities in the Grey Mountains, and who knows what fabulous gems and jewels he found there? The Dwarf-lords of the Blue Mountains threatened to take Bori’s hard-earned gold with fines and taxes, and rather than yield up his treasure to them, Bori buried it.

Young Thomas' nerves improve and by the end of the first day he chatters away merrily, talking about how happy his father will be when he brings all the treasure home. Diarmoc closes up even more, barely speaking a word and he often stares into the fire when you stop to rest. Sometimes his eyes tear up but if asked he blames it on the yellow grass.

The slight overcast holds up as you walk and provides great weather for travelling. On the afternoon of the second day you climb a gentle slope and before you reach the summit you hear the cawing of a large murder of crows. As you come all the way up you have a great view of the Weather Hills ahead but also the large gathering of carrion birds feasting on something by a collection of cliffs just below you. The gristly sight of mannish remains in a heap by the cliffs chill you to the bones.

---

Despair! The Company has been so unlucky as to have been subjected to a terrible ordeal, an occurrence that is most likely connected to the slow rising of the Shadow. Everyone in the Company gains 1 Shadow point (Dread). Everyone gains 2 Fatigue points.

You may reduce or cancel the effects of Dread with a Shadow Test (VALOUR).

From the summit of the hill, Haldan gazes across the landscape in the direction of the Weather Hills, but the vista is spoilt by the gathering of carrion crows on the cliffs below. Who that poor fellow is, they might never know, but the fine line between life and death fills Haldan with a sense of foreboding, that something dreadful is about to happen.

---

Failed Valour roll, but managed to avoid the Eye as Valour is favoured (Stout-hearted)
Added 1 Shadow Point and 2 Fatigue to character sheet.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:06, Mon 12 Feb.

Aldaron considers the jubilant crows, croaking and dancing about their feast. If any were needed, it is further proof that the lands through which they journey have become perilous and wild.

After a night of restless sleep, in which he dreamed of thunderclouds gathering over a mountainous redoubt, he has tried hard to listen to Jari’s endless tales. He learnt a piece or two about Bori, but also quickly discovered the dwarf's stories are all woven from the same thread of self-justification. Truly, his family has been harried and harassed by the selfish and unjust; woe, but his uncle, an honest dwarf, was deprived of his fairly gotten gains.

We shall see, thought Aldaron, hoping his efforts at least gave Haldan the space to spot any danger coming. At best, he sees he was partially successful. But then, Jari could suck an orc into conversation.

The Rangers strive ever harder to protect the wild lands, but they can’t be everywhere. This part of the country he scarcely knows, but he hadn’t imagined danger would be so close to Bree. He looks back at the trail. Two days out. He feels the icy chill of despair, and wonders who the figure ruined at the base of the cliffs might be.

"If we needed reminding of the dangers ahead, we have it," he says, shaking off his horror. (Valour: Great Success)

---

Perry had never seen the raw power of the unforgiving wilderness or worse, until now.  He had only read about such things—not in the fanciful tales his mother used to read to him as a child, but in the dusty tomes that lined the top shelf in his father's study, away from curious young eyes.  Scaling the bookcase like a mountain goat, he devoured those histories by candlelight while his parents slumbered, long before their world turned upside down.

The stories had once chilled his young imagination, but now, faced with the harsh reality before him, Perry felt a shiver run down his spine. The wildness he had only imagined now surrounded him, its untamed fury echoing the fearsome narratives he had once devoured.

"There is always a morning," Perry thought to himself.  The thought helped a little.

(Valour: Success)
This message was last edited by the player at 05:08, Tue 13 Feb.

Aldaron descends the summit, waving the reluctant crows away from their meal. They don't go far, dropping to earth mere paces beyond the reach of his flailing arms. It's more a tactical withdrawal than a surrender, he thinks.

He crouches near the body, covering his nose and mouth with his hand. The sweet, sickening stench of death is cloying, even in the open air. Foul and unforgettable.

He peers at the corpse. "Nór, what do you make of this?"

---

OOC: happy to provide support for the Scan roll.

Nor pales slightly at first sight of the birds.  A shadow had been growing in his mind, sunny day aside.  He had been taking this all too lightly, the voice went.  He was being far too glib, far too confident, far too hopeful.  He knew how the wilderness went, and the lands under the sky - they did not care a whit if he or anyone lived or died.  The rocks are silent.

Oh! The tangled tear of a creature, fair or foul, bereft of life, torn to jiblets; the angry clack of beak on bone.

He shuddered though he'd worked up a bit of a sweat marching. Cold.  Cold in the core.

"Ah, Alderon! Right." He exhaled to steady himself.  "Let's see here..." as he got closer.

OOC: what to roll for?

Haldan watches on as Aldaron and Nor make their way down to the cliffs below. The dwarf looks tired, he thinks to himself. His own load is fairly cumbersome, but a coat of mail together with a helm and shield is more than he'd be willing to carry on a journey like this. Still, those dwarves come from tough stock, one shouldn't underestimate them.

"Do you see anything?" he calls down from the summit. Hal is still a little unnerved by the situation. Some things are best left alone.