Fellowship of the Dice

The lead thug sneers, "We are just taking what we's due. He cheated us and we are getting our share." He looks a bit worried at the nearing dwarf, "All you needs to do is look the other a moment and we'll cut you in for a share of the goods we will."

Pipkin finds a few nice stones on the ground.

Borir peers at the man and replies, "If it's money matters, then the local sheriff can help sort things out. No need to draw weapons over a few coins. Put your weapons down and let's head back to town like grown ups."

The man Jonar laughs, "No I don't think so. We'll take our money from him here and now. You can move along, look away, or just shove off now. None of this is your concern."

Baldor, his back to the trees calls out, "Please! Help I didn't cheat these men, Jonar is lying, he's the one double crossing me. Please. Please!" Belgo the young boy doesn't do what Borir says, instead he grabs a stone off the ground and throw it the man closest to his father, "Leave my dad alone Finnar!" The stone missed but the man turns around, "Don't make me hurt you Belgo cause I will!", he brandishes his sword.

Aerth has all his gear with him, as he was on his way out of town directly after the kite flying contests. He does not unsling his bow or axe yet, watching and waiting to see what happens. He is happy to allow Borir to speak for them, as he does not disagree with the dwarf's comments in the least.

NOTE: HEAVILY EDITED

Varuthil draws herself up to her full height, throwing back her white-blond hair, manifesting all the glory of Illuvatar's elder children, already having seen more years than these men could ever hope to live. Her normally cold voice is like icy steel now. "I would think twice about following that course of action. You fact two Elves of Mirkwood and more of our kin are nearby. We are not known for loving those who would commit such acts as you contemplate, cutting down a man in front of his own child. And we have one of the dwarves with us--who also has many of his kin here and they too are known for their keen sense of justice, not mention their unrelenting wills. If your own sense of honor and shame cannot move you to forebear from this evil act, let your sense of self-preservation guide you."

As the others confront the guards-turned-bandits more directly, Pipkin takes the more subtle route. Keeping his stones in hand, he slips quietly into the woods and starts making his way around to the other side of the conflict, where he can hurl his stones and achieve greater surprise.

Varuthil stands to her full height and throws her hair back, her voice icy cold comes from her lips. She would see this end without bloodshed, but the tint of violence in her voice helps to persuade the three men that cutting down the father before the child is not a wise idea. They have no honor, but they are craven men, and can see a point to the elven woman's argument -- they are out numbered five to three. Jonar snarls like a cornered beast, "Alright Wood Elf, you win this time, but if our paths cross again, you will regret it!" He snaps his fingers at the other two, "Fiinar, Kelmund, come on, let's go, its not worth it!" The other two thugs follow orders and the three men slip around the group heading away back toward Dale.

The moment they are clear of Baldor, Belgo the son darts across the space and leaps at his father grabbing hold of him with a big hug. "You're safe father! Oh thank the Mountain you are safe father!" Baldor throws down his branch and hugs his son tightly, "You did well Belgo, you did very well." He holds his son tightly for a moment and then sets him down. He regards Varuthil, "I am Baldor of Dale and I owe you a great thanks. Who do I have the pleasure of thanking for this kindness?

Pipkin steps out from the woods on the opposite side of the clearing, tosses a stone in the air, catches it, then lets it drop back to the ground. But he offers no immediate introduction, allowing Varuthil the opportunity to speak first.

Varuthil smiles briefly at Baldor, "I am Varuthil, of the Elves of Mirkwood. And consider it nothing--I could not bear the idea of a boy seeing his own father cut down before him." Her eyes shift to the bandits walking away. "Perhaps we should walk back to the fair with you. I suspect the local sheriff will want to arrest those men, if it can be done." She waits for the others to introduce themselves--she considers them no less important to scaring the men away, since her threats were backed by their presence.

"My name is Pipkin Brandybuck," the hobbit says, offering his hand to the merchant. "A very good morning to you."