Fellowship of the Dice

Aerth eyes the hound wearily, but shrugs and pets one as he smokes his pipe. The dogs were not at fault he knew, just as a sword did not control its own destiny. He remembers his father's family, now two generations past, had a kennel and bred similar dogs. He tears his throats from it, instead thinking of the route back north, and attempting to plan where an attack from Dagmar might come.

Finn sat quietly at the fire, taking in Radagast's home and the night sky over the eaves of Mirkwood. He surely believed there was more to this old man than the stories that dismissed him as nothing more.

...

The next morning, Finn woke feeling very rested, though not fully recovered. That might take another week or more.

After he is up, he looks for Borir. "So I have heard you have a forge with the Woodmen. Quite unusual...though I'm sure it is handy. We probably must make for the Inn sooner rather than later, but if we have time I'd like you to take a look at my shield some time. It was not the best we own - that belongs to my father. At the time of my departure from Esgaroth I thought it would do. Now I think it is a bit too unwieldy."

Varuthil finds her night at the wizard's place intriguing. The whole thing was slightly unreal. To have spent so much time with one of the Wise was a great honor. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the experience, but she would mentally chew on it for some time to come.

Borir's awake and refreshing himself with another mug of mead. "One for the road," he'll say if questioned. The dwarf has his gear ready to depart.

When Finn speaks of a forge, the dwarf nods saying, "Aye. Just had one season at it, but me got all the proper smithing tools."

The dwarf then looks at the shield taking it from Finn. He bangs on the shield with his fist and then holds it up to the light to look at its edges and frame. "Aye, the metal is all wrong. I can lessen the weight and keep it just as sturdy. That is as long as the woodmen hasn't turned me'smith into an inn when we get back."

"Ha, that's what I thought. It didn't block that scoundrel's blade as it should have! Well, I would greatly appreciate it," says Finn.

Finn turns to find Tom, to make sure they are ready for the road, ... and that no extra gear not belonging to them has made it into their packs.

Finn finds himself greatly healed and feeling worlds better, he and Borir speak of shields and forges, and with Tom joining them they are ready to set out. Varuthil finds her way to them as well and the others too.

Borir glances around and finishes his last mug. Sitting it down on a bench, the dwarf wipes the foam from his beard and prepares to depart the village.

Wren is the last to arrive, but for what he thinks is a good reason. He had spent the night whittling. This particular piece he had been working on since they left the Woodmen some time ago. It has long been a goal of his to have Varuthil ease up on her demeanor, even when surrounded by the dire nature of their tasks. "Morning Varuthil, I, I made this for you." He holds up a small but finely crafted depiction of herself in a fighting stance, blade and all, hanging from a necklace of thin leather.

Wren succeeds in changing the look on Varuthil's face from cold determination to one of bafflement. She takes the offering and says, "Ah, thanks." She clearly doesn't know what to make of this gift, but she politely hangs it around her neck. After a moment, she collects her wits and says, "That's very kind. I wouldn't want it to get broken. I'll make sure it stays safe," with which words, she tucks it inside her shirt where no one can see it. She's actually a bit worried that people will see her as arrogant if she walked around with a statuette of herself hanging from her neck, otherwise she would have left it out in the open.

Wren begins to walk away and can't help but think to himself that went better than he thought it might. Stopping suddenly, "You may wish to know, or not, why I fashioned your likeness wielding a blade rather than a bow. I just couldn't seem to get the bow carving right without it being too fragile. At any rate I suppose we should get ready to head out."