Book 6: Act 1 - The Folk-Moot at Rhosgobel

It is the year 2946 of the Third Age, and the lands east of the Misty Mountains are astir. From the cloud-shrouded peaks above the High Pass to the spider-infested gloom of the forest of Mirkwood, paths long-deserted are trodden once again. Busy merchants carry their wares to new markets, messengers bring tidings from foreign realms, and kings send forth armed men to extend their influence and the rule of law. Some say that a new age of freedom has begun, a time for adventure and great deeds to reclaim glories lost in long centuries of oppression and decline.

But adventures are not really things that people go out and look for. They are dangerous and rarely end well. While it is true that a handful of valiant individuals set out to make their mark on the world, for others it seems that adventure chooses them, as though it is the path they are fated to tread. They are restless warriors, curious scholars and wanderers, always eager to seek what was lost or explore what was forgotten. Ordinary people call them adventurers, and when they return successful, they call them heroes. But if they fail, no one will even remember their names...

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Trogdor » Thu Dec 22, 2016 3:44 pm

"Not to worry," Pipkin tells Beren. "I can fit most anywhere. Just give me something reasonably soft to sleep on and I'll be content."

Later, he expresses his thoughts. "For my part I'd rather get some food first," he says. "It's been a long trek on the road." Then he sighs. "But I suppose the polite thing is to say hello to Radagast first. I'll go tend to that. Then you can find me in the tavern."
Pipkin will pay his respects to Radagast and then check out the tavern for rumors ... and food.

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by silverfoxdmt73 » Thu Dec 22, 2016 4:49 pm

Beleran greets Beren courteously if a little awkwardly, seeking the company of any fellow Beornings over any of the Woodmen.

He takes food and water, but generally keeps to himself while the others make small-talk.

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Shurijo » Thu Dec 29, 2016 2:18 pm

Borir looks a bit surprised that a representative of his kin is present. Pulling his belt to hoist his pantaloons a tad higher, followed with wiping his face with his forearm, the dwarf begins walking away saying, "Ah'll see who's mah kin is. Maybe have ah flagon or three or eight."

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Vardaen » Tue Jan 03, 2017 6:55 pm

Once you are settled in, you say your greetings to Beren and Radagast, who seems overly busy and hardly notices your arrival as he sweep through town on a hundred different errands reminding you of how Gandalf was when he passed through Wilderland and the Easterly Inn before -- never resting when when resting. Then you split up some.

Finnulf

Finn is surprised to hear that there are folks from Lake-town present, and so he heads off to look to them. It takes him only a little while to locate their camp. They have set up tents on the west side of town and have a nice little encampment. The smell of roasting fish (brought salted all the way from Long Lake) assaults Finn's nose, along with the smokey aroma of rosemary on the fire. Its a little bit of home this far away and he almost can't help himself. Standing over a nice iron grate over a cooking fire is a tall man, of obviously Esgaroth lineage. He wears a leather apron, and holds a long pair of tongs flipping the fish on the fire. He looks up, his black beard matches his hair, which has some salt along the temples. He smiles and waves at Finn, "Welcome stranger, haven't seen you around yet. Come on, there is enough to share I can see your nose twitching."

Pipkin

Pipkin heads for the Woodman tavern, or what passes for it. In this festival like air there are several beer tents set up, and that serves as the place for the Hobbit to be. A dozen men and women are at each of the two tents, each one serving various ales, lagers, and beer. A loud debate is taking place at the first tent on which manner of drink is better. A rough looking man stands holding his mug, "...clearly Misty Mountain Ale is far better than this lowlander stuff you prefer!" While a second man laughs, "Please, Mirkwood Dark Stout is far stronger than that watered down stuff you have in that mug!" The debate is echoes by most of those in the tent split about half and half.

Beleran

Settled in he needs something to eat now, but seeks the Beornings to help fit in. There is a small cluster of them sitting around a roaring fire on the eastern side of Rhosgobel. Several large ponies, untethered or harnessed just linger about, along with three shaggy dogs similar to Shadrack from the Easterly Inn. Two larger men, heavily bearded and roughly clothed are siting quietly speaking with one another and a third, a woman, as Beleran arrives. She looks up, "Greetings traveler. Can we well you?" In her hand is a small seedcake, and a bowl of cream with honey.

Borir

The dwarf drops his things at your place, and then is off to find the dwarves who are present. Its not hard, they are right now circled up at the second of the beer tents. Four of them are present, seated at a table. Empty plates and mugs sit before them suggest finished meals and drinks. As Borir is arriving he noticed they have their pipes out, and are sitting happily smoking. The sweet smell of the pipeweed lingers in the air as the Dwarves just watch the rest of the room. The others in the room seem locals, Woodmen of Mirkwood.

Varuthil

The elven maid is out of place here, no elves are present at this Folk-moot, making her the lone representative of her people. Wanting to speak to those she knows, she at first things to join Finn, but he's gone to see those from Lake-town. Along the way she spots Ignomer, the leader of the Woomen from Woodland Hall. He spots her and waves, "Varuthil! What a surprise." He stride up to her in the middle of the town and clasps forearms as his people do. "Good to see you." With him is a pair of men, which stride up and nod politely in greeting.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Trogdor » Tue Jan 03, 2017 7:22 pm

Pipkin heads up to the bar, climbing up on a bench or chair to get to a proper height. "Since it seems like there's a debate going on about which beer is better," he says with a smile to the man behind the bar, "I'll have a pint of each."

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Muskrat » Tue Jan 03, 2017 7:38 pm

Varuthil curtseys politely to Ignomer and says, "Greetings, Master Ignomer. It is good to see you again as well. Radagast encouraged my companions and me to attend this Folk Moot, saying we can learn more of what is happening here and that people might want to hear from us as well. And it is probably good that one of the Mirkwood Elves is here as well, even if I have no official standing. My foster father is prominent in Thranduil's court and my companions and I have done the King a great favor, so I may be able to speak to him if something necessary comes up."

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Blubbo_Baggins » Tue Jan 03, 2017 8:45 pm

lol, nice Trog, that line made me laugh.
Finn nods at the man. "Thank you. My name is Finn, son of Winaelf Wyngard. And yours? It has been a long while since I met fellow Laketowners here in Wilderland. And if I may ask, what brings you so far to a council here?"

Finn is handed a salted fish, and is delighted by the aroma, instantly he is on the piers of the town, smelling more than just the fish, but the fresh breeze off the lake, the wet wood planks, and feeling the sun reflecting off the waves. For a moment he longs for home, but finds for now the fish is quite satisfying enough.

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Shurijo » Wed Jan 04, 2017 3:14 pm

Borir notices the empty plates and mugs, so, of course, he searches for any remaining food or drink. He expects none to be remaining after his kin discovered the meal and drinks, but he searches for some anyway.

If none is to be found, he pulls out his own pipe and then asks, "Ahe, Ya got any pipeweed for mahself?"

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by silverfoxdmt73 » Thu Jan 05, 2017 2:31 pm

Though he'd not admit it to anyone, Beleran is somewhat relieved to find some of his own kind here at the moot, and the presence of the quintet of Beornings this far from home gives him some comfort. He holds out his open hands for the animals to sniff while he nods a greeting to the men sat in conversation.

His stomach grumbles loudly as the smell of the cake and honey reaches his nose, at once making him homesick and glad to have some company.

"Aye." He replies amiably. "A little cake in exchange for some company and news from the Easterly Inn?" He ventures, settling down by the group.

"What brings you here?" He asks.

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The Day Before the Folk-moot

Post by Vardaen » Thu Jan 05, 2017 7:41 pm

Pipkin

Pipkin bellies up to the bar, and calls for one tankard of each. The men there laugh, and for a moment he thinks they may deny him, till someone whispers "Hobbit" and the bar tender nods realizing Pipkin isn't a child. "Two it is master Hobbit!" He hands over both pints, one a heady brew, the other hoppy. Both are excellent. Men sit looking on with curious grins waiting for the proclamation.

Varuthil

Ignomer smiles, "Leave the Master talk to Radagast, we are friends are we not Varuthil? I must say I'm please you are here. I value your input on matters, and your voice carries weight among my people after all you and your companions have done. I hope I can count on your support if the various topics require votes or debate." He points at one of the beer tents, "I was on my way to get a drink. Care to join me?"

Finn

Finn is taken home by the food, and finds he can't resist. So he joins the man. Who offers a seat and a smile, "Wyngard? Of the Wyngard Timber Company? I am familiar with your family's work, in directly in a sort of way. I'm a Cartwright, and have used timber from your family before. Names Folkmarr, Folkmarr Cartwright. I'm here for trade, mostly I'm just the man in charge of making sure we got here in one piece and we get home. Jokell is the man in charge of the trade mission, bringing toys and supplies from Dale. He's a Barding, but don't hold that against him if you meet him."

Borir

The dwarves have finished their meals, but there are more to be had in the tent if Borir wants some. Borir strides up to his kin and calls for some pipeweed. One of the four looks up, "Well bless mae hammer another Khazad in these parts!" He elbows the dwarf next to him so hard as it nearly knock him out of his seat, "I TOLD you coming here would pay dividends! Look here is one of our own, and with a swagger too boot." He stands up and reaches out for a shake, "Bofi, son of Bofur at your service." He bows so his beard touches the table, "Sit sit, we have plenty of weed to share, if you have the pipe!"
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Beleran

The young Beorning woman nods and motions Beleran to join them. "News from the Easterly Inn you say, that's a far way. You must have traveled through our lands then along your way? When did you set out, and news you have of home we would greatly welcome." She hands him something to eat of his liking. "I am Heva the Rich, so they call me."
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring

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