Book 8: Act 1 - The Troubles of Men

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...

Run by the Loremaster Vardaen
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Muskrat
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Ruins of Men and Trolls: Retreat

Post by Muskrat » Fri May 01, 2020 6:29 pm

Varuthil nods at Finn's words. "There is safety in numbers. Imagine if our situations were reversed and you run into the troll alone--even if we had been nearby, we might not have arrived in time to rescue you. And our mission is not so urgent that we cannot take the time to help another party that has become lost." She still speaks in the same remote, cold voice she spoke in before, though her words do not seem insincere.

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Ruins of Men and Trolls: Retreat

Post by Wbweather » Tue May 05, 2020 5:20 pm

"I wonder if my troll friend had anything to do with the disappearance of your dwarves. We should at least look to see if we can find any evidence of them in this place." Gerwald looks at the young woman Heva. "Well, thank you for your aid. I will do what I can to assist you."

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Ruins of Men and Trolls: Retreat

Post by Graven » Wed May 06, 2020 6:56 pm

"I wasn't told what the dwarves were travelling for, such as them are always welcome though." Heva turns to Gerwald, "That's a thought. I'll admit I had hoped I would find them when I heard the fighting, but it seems there's more work to do."
Fantasy is the exercise bike of the mind. It might not take you anywhere, but it tones up the muscles that can. Of course, I might be wrong.
- Sir Terry Pratchett
I will always return
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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Vardaen » Wed Jun 17, 2020 7:48 pm

The newcomer joins the company and you sit around the fire, eating and drinking and talking. The night grows on and come need sleep, the injured not the only, and you take comfort in guards and an added friend. When morning arrives you have your breakfast and are ready to move on for it seems the buzzing gnats have returned after also sleeping over night. Rested as best you can, a bottle of wine lighter, you decide what you must do now. There is some hope you might be able to aid Heva in locating the missing dwarves.

You are packed and ready, but where to, seek the dwarves, to head for the Steading of the Sun.
"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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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Muskrat » Thu Jun 18, 2020 5:29 pm

As they make ready to depart, Varuthil says to the others, "Finding the dwarves won't be easy in this swamp. We can't exactly follow their footprints." She considers a moment, then says, "Let me see if the birds have seen anything--I'm not sure how well they can tell dwarves from orcs, but it's worth trying." She lifts her voice in song, calling out to the nearby birds, asking if them if they have seen another group of the upright, walking people--ones who were not orcs.
The Speakers: Song 3

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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Blubbo_Baggins » Thu Jun 18, 2020 8:40 pm

"If you think we should seek these Dwarves," says Finn to Heva, "Then let us do so; for I imagine Sunstead will still be there after we have sought them, but if we go to your village first, we may never find the Dwarves."

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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Othniel » Fri Jun 19, 2020 12:56 am

"I would put some distance between that troll amd ourselves, provided everyone feels well enough to travel. "

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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Wbweather » Mon Jun 22, 2020 4:01 am

Gerwald is bruised and a bit swollen and stiff, but he looks at the others and says, "If these dwarves faced that troll or any similar creature, they will be needing any aid they can get. I think I am strong enough to do some searching before we depart."

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A New Dawn on the Edge of Mirkwood

Post by Graven » Wed Jun 24, 2020 7:38 pm

"My task was to find the dwarves, helping you was simply what right thinking folk do, if you wish to help, I will thank you."
Fantasy is the exercise bike of the mind. It might not take you anywhere, but it tones up the muscles that can. Of course, I might be wrong.
- Sir Terry Pratchett
I will always return
- Shinjo
Formerly Phlale

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A Long and Weary Way

Post by Vardaen » Thu Sep 24, 2020 6:13 pm

Your hunt for the dwarves is long and tiresome. It seems months that you wander in the swamp looking for small signs of their passing. Beyond the Rotting River, the water course breaks against tangles of hoary willow-trees standing close together and shutting out the light of day even at its brightest. Their drooping branches trail into the water, and their moulding roots sink deep into the grey slime: the river disappears in a vast fen without wind or tide.

After many days of searching you spot a wrecked boat. It has mostly sunk under the marshy water making its finding a point of utter luck or valiant determination. It appears damaged, as if something slashed at it with fangs or claws. There are however no signs of the missing Dwarves.

The next day Heva nearly walks into a patch of low hanging branches and vines, but is pulled back roughly by Varuthil. "Look, gallow-weed", says the elf. As she points a patch of the vines moves, all on its own, and slithers about noose like, almost catching Heva in its trap.

Eventually you make your way to a deep pool of dark water. Here the ruins found else where in the marshes are more prominent as if this was the place where the main buildings of the sunken town once rose. The remains of a great marble arch can be seen on the distant shore, still holding a massive wooden gate, the other walls of the building now crumbled into the mud. On the treetops around the pool the Gore-crows* croak, signalling the presence of your arrival.

(*A breed of crows twisted by long years spent in the shadow of the Mountains of Mirkwood)
"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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