It is the year 3010 of the Third Age in Middle-earth. One after another, ancient horrors awake, called by their master, Sauron, the Lord of the Rings. This is a time when heroes are needed, to protect the Free People and keep the evil at bay. This is high fantasy in a setting where there is low obvious magic using the HARP system.
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.
The last few years have seen hot summers in Breeland, but this summer of 3010 has seen days where the air stood still and the sun relentlessly shone down. Insects fly around and the Midgewater Marshes have turned even more muddy, soggy and midge-infested, with fetid waters and slimy muck. Some people have even claimed to have seen Dumbledors and even the dreaded Hummerhorns. People avoid this land as more than a few have tried to pass here never to be seen again. And, people say, it is definitely haunted.
Vardanil, a Dúnadan Ranger, is making his way through the wilderness. He has just come down from the barren Emyn Sal, the Weather Hills, the range of which Amon Sal is the highest and southernmost. He is deftly making his way through the brush and undergrowth, some raspberry bushes, ferns, birch and beech, and other local plants. The flowers and herbs are filling the air with their fragrance. He is brushing aside dead dry branches and easily breaking twigs.
A few hours later he turns in a more southerly direction, leaving the Midgewater Marshes to his right and still moving through the bush fast. His goal is the Pen Drebi, a large hill in the south of the Midgewater Marshes, a meeting point for the Rangers of the North.
Welcome! This is the start of the game! Please wait until you get my signal to post here. I just wanted my 500th post to be the start of the game. More information will follow soon. This is Vardaen's Solo Thread. More will follow as I get Characters. I hope you enjoy this. Have fun!
Great! Glad this game has started. Your 500th post was a long time ago been waiting for the signal for some time now.
Stalking south through the edge of the marshes, keeping to the spongy and dry patches of the Midgewater comes a lone man. The tall figure hurries along with great purpose and great skill as well. He moves to leave the least impact on the land, making sure to not break branches, or to leave deep foot prints as he moves. Around him is pulled a thick cloak, it warms him of course, but it serves a more important purpose. It keeps the midges as bay. The insects can't bit through the heavy wool as easily as they can his lighter clothing underneath. An unstrung bow and quiver is attached over his cloak, a pack under it. Hung from his hip is a longsword in a black and silver scabbard that only peeks out from time to time as he leaps from patch to patch.
A whistling fills the air around him as he purses his lips and lets slip a simple tune his mother used to sing to him when they would travel the road from the north down to Bree. The Ranger Vardanil hurries along, scanning the 'road' before him as he travels.
"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
Vardanil stops instantly, Dumbledoor... I had hoped to avoid them. He remains still studying the wasps for a moment, and glancing around only moving his eyes at the brush around the area. Worker wasp, there could be more of them. He listens as intently as he might as he slowly lowers himself to one knee, his thick cloak billowing around his lower body forming a slope off his shoulder and helping to blend him to the ground.
Can I hear more of them nearby? Is it likely its alone?
"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
Hiding:
rolled 52+45=97 DD need 110 RR
DD: rolled 88+20+30 (routine)=118 success (it is routine to spot someone who you have already spotted)
Lore: Eriador:
roll 33+21=54
Vardanil lies low and observes the Dumbledoor. It is buzzing around and then it flies towards him. Vardanil readies his dagger, but after circling a few times around him, it flies north, dissappearing in the bush. Vardanil does not hear anything except the constant croaking of frogs and smaller insects. He is quite sure there are no more Dumbledoors at close range. But then - he does not remember much - they do come in swarms, do they not?
Holding still he waits for the large wasp to fly off and then the ranger unslings his bow, and draws out the string from his pocket. Slipping the bow between his legs he bends it back and strings the composite bow checking its strength with a gentle pull. He takes an arrow from his quiver and knocks the arrow. "I best get out of here." He stands up and starts off back on his path, the bow and arrow in hand, ready to fire at any further signs of Dumbledoors. Keep moving Vardanil... he picks up the pace once he's past the bush where the wasp was first spotted, he wants to be clear of here at once.
"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
Vardanil strides away quickly, hoping that the Dumbledoors cannot track him. He has to think quickly: Should he try to cross the 12 foot wide river or follow its course, although that might take him further south than he wanted?
Paused at the bank of the river the Ranger leans against a gnarled beech tree, its lower branches long since broken off by local activity of the native creatures of the swamp. He holds his bow and arrow in on hand, fingers around the owen fletchings of his arrow.
Looking north and south Vardanil debates his options, Do I cross the river and avoid the Dumbledoor, but risk traveling too far? Or risk a few wasps?
The man knows he has a job to do, "I must reach the Pen Drebi as soon as I can." He makes up his mind to take the most direct route to the meeting place, and risk running through a nest of the Dumbledoor. He pulls his green and brown mantle tightly around himself and steps on the path, for now he's silent, hoping to clear any danger, but once he feels clear of it all, he begins to whistle a common tune the Hobbits in Bree often sing while traveling between the small burgs of Comb and Archet.
"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
The most direct route will take him a bit south and then across the river. By now the sun is burning down hot and he has to wipe the sweat from his brows.
He quietly strides south and hopes the Dumbledoors will not be able to track him.
Silent move
rolled 28+45+30=73
the DDs need to roll 95 for tracking
DDs: roll 11+10=21 miss
There are no Dumbledoors in sight and none can be heard. After half an hour, Vardanil has to cross the river. He takes a few seconds to think how he will do it.
