Book 4: Act 1 - Kinstrife & Dark Tidings

Muskrat · Post by **Muskrat** » Fri Apr 17, 2015 6:19 am

Varuthil listens for a bit, then softly joins in, almost as if singing only to herself.

Eilandor · Post by **Eilandor** » Fri Apr 17, 2015 6:57 pm

Wren is struggling a bit as he walks long the banks of the river. His new boots, now tarnished from the mud and water make him lament the fact he left behind his old boots. The voice of Finn carries over from the boat which in turn lifts his spirits if only for a brief moment. A smile comes across his face as Varuthil joins in albeit very faint. He can not recall if he has ever heard her sing before.

Post by **Shurijo** » Fri Apr 17, 2015 7:02 pm

Borir continues on. The stout dwarf dislikes the muddy banks, but it's much preferred than being on the water. He listens in to the song and ponders some of the songs he had heard over the years about his ancestors.

Post by **Trogdor** » Fri Apr 17, 2015 8:13 pm

Pipkin is almost eager to get back on the water. It's been so long for him that it's a novelty again. No doubt after a few hours the shine will wear off. But for now he's looking forward to the journey.

Post by **Vardaen** » Fri Apr 17, 2015 10:19 pm

Pipkin, in the boat with Finn and Tom, loosk forward to the trip. That leaves the others to walk the bank with pony and rope. The mud is disheartening to those who care about their boots and their pants. Yet Finn starts the Lay of the Northmen, which you've heard him sing in the Ring Fort, and a few times at the Easterly Inn. Voices rise up as you set out, a good setting out song is always good for spirits, and your voices rise, some louder than others as you continue...

Yet when upon these Middle shores
The DÃºnedain had berthed,
The Eldar were awakened by
Their footsteps on the Earth.

For sound of their forgotten gods,
The sound of Eldamar,
Was in their mortal feet and song--
Men of Mar-nu-Falmar.

Too soon forsook their oaths of old,
Beguiled by Morgoth's thane,
For spurnÃ©d they the Gift of men,
They grasped for life in vain....

Post by **TetNak** » Mon Apr 20, 2015 8:17 pm

The half-elf is already frowning, irritated about the soggy conditions they are faced with so soon. He keeps everything to himself, however, as he is off scouting a head of the rest without seeing everyone in the caravan too often.

Muskrat · Post by **Muskrat** » Tue Apr 21, 2015 3:02 am

Varuthil stoically slogs along, as if indifferent to any discomfort.

Post by **Trogdor** » Tue Apr 21, 2015 6:27 pm

Pipkin eagerly joins in with the singing, happy to learn another song. And he's surprisingly good at carrying the tune.

Post by **Vardaen** » Tue Apr 21, 2015 8:57 pm

The joy of being on the move once more is almost at once turned sour as spring rains strike the party. The rains start not long after setting out and continue on for days nonstop. Aerth struggles to keep the land scouted for good places to camp, and on both days you are forced to tie the boat up and march an hour east to find even vaugely dry land. It is exhausting for the man, trudging through the mud and rain hour after hour ahead of the group ranging out and back trying to locate good camping places. The river is hardly any easier for Finn who finds downed trees in the water forcing him to use all his skill to navigate the swift running river away from them or simply to try and keep pace with the others. Its only little Pipkin who rides along in the boat or the hardy dwarf who never complains that doesn't suffer from the spring weather.

Drenched, and tired already you are several days from home and moving along the river when you see signs of other people for the first time. Pipkin in the bow of the little boat is acting as look out and spies another boat up ahead. The boat is wedged against shore between among some thick rushes. The lapping waves rock the boat side to side and a rhythmic rapping echoes from the boat.

Aerth glances to the air, and Wren and Varuthil take notice as a murder of crows circles the river above the boat silently and in wide descending circles.

The thumping noise on the side of the boat is a man's arm that hangs limply over the side. In the gathering gloom of the rapidly nearing night things feel uncertain. Your pony pulls on the reigns tugging on Borir's arm not wishing to go any further down river. As you near you see there are two slumped over figures in the boat, cloaked in shadows and wreathed in the buzzing of flies, and thick black arrows are their armor sticking from their chests.

Muskrat · Post by **Muskrat** » Tue Apr 21, 2015 9:03 pm

Varuthil draws her bow and knocks an arrow, as she says, "I don't like the look of that. Clearly someone murdered those folk--and whoever did it could still be about. I think we should venture forward on foot and take a closer look, while remaining alert for an ambush. We won't get the ponies to go any further for now anyway."

Fellowship of the Dice

Book 4: Act 1 - Kinstrife & Dark Tidings

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