Fellowship of the Dice

Finn replies to Pipkin's idea, "I would rather ask them for help when it is urgent. We can make this trip, even without trouble, we have done it many times. But if others feel inclined to get their help, I am not against it."

Rathar sits next to Pip with his roughly hewn pipe, imitating the hobbit as best he can. He puffs comfortably for a short while until the pipe goes out, then he makes another attempt. The Woodman peruses the map casually as the talk of travel stirs up.

"The river is the quicker route," he adds, "but my folk guard the eaves well. We will be safe there. And I would not trouble with eagles needlessly. They are unpredictable, it is said, and none too friendly with the Woodmen."

"Aye," Borir comments agreeing with Rathar. The dwarf fiddles a bit more with his pipe and looks like he is unable to properly pack in the pipeweed and get his pipe properly lit. "No need to bother tha'eagles. Best we save that favor until we have no options."

Varuthil nods and says, "While it would be nice to see the eagles again, it would be unwise to call on them without grave cause. They are noble creatures and would take it ill to be used as messengers at our beck and call. Let us travel along the eaves of the forest."

Rathar raises his mug with a weak smile, the first that's met his face in days.

Its a fine rest here, good food, cold ale, and soft beds. You recover well, and fatigue and tiredness leave you. Tom takes his leave in the morning, he will take the boats back to the Easterly Inn with the help of a few hired hands, and promises to meet you once more in the north after he's had some proper rest.

You turn east the Old Forest Road is your start, then south into the lands of the Woodmen that Rathar knows so well. There are roads in the forest you will take, and with him among you you'll have no trouble with them. You expect it to take ten days, mostly through known lands, with stops in Woodland Hall and Woodmen Town for rest and resupply. The autumn days are pretty, cool with falling leaves, and only a bit of rain here and there. Harvest are underway as you pass through the lands of the Woodmen. You stop in Woodland hall after five days and catch up on news and such. It seems there is talk of some folk-moot of the woodmen folk soon to be taking place and that interest you but you can't stay to find out more.

South along the Mirkwood roads of the Woodmen and you come to Woodmen Town where you restock your dwindling supplies. Its another three days to Radagast's home in Rhosgobel so you don't linger long even though you hear rumors of recent attacks on cattle on the outskirts of town.

You leave Woodmen Town expecting to strike west then south along the eves of the forest, but some how Borir manages to get on the wrong trail and he leads you south through the forest longer than expected. Just when you are craving sun on your faces you exit Mirkwood none the worse for wear. From there its easy to the Brown Wizard's home and on the evening of October the 17th you are nearing his woodland home.

"I imagine Radagast already knows we're approaching," says Varuthil, "but, just to be polite, I'll try to let him know we're coming."

She steps away from the others for a moment and sings softly to the birds, squirrels and wildlife, asking them to let Radagast know that visitors he has met before are approaching.

"Where do you live along the lands of the Woodmen, Rathar?" asks Finn. "Do you know much about the moot? It isn't our place to be there, but I do care very much what happens among the Woodmen if it affects their relations to the Lakemen. I happen to hope, eventually, to set up a good contract for lumber, perhaps on the Eastern side."

"Oh dear," says Pipkin at one point in the travel. "That evil dream took more out of me than I thought." He rests against a stout stick he's picked up as a walking staff. "Can't we take another rest?"

But he eventually bucks up and moves along again. But he's not so talkative on the second half of the trip as he was on the first.

Varuthil nods at Pipkin's words. "It was more than a dream. It was an assault on our souls." She is, if anything, even more quiet and gloomy than usual, as the trip takes its toll on her as well. The memory of being killed by the troll continues to prey on her mind.