Prelude: A seven-pointed star

[Vardaen]

With the threat of the giant wasps behind him the Ranger comes to stand on a rock that looks out over the river. He is pearched with one booted foot on the stone and his other placed on the bank. Pulling his hood down off his head, and opening the cloak around his torso the young man's armor is visible under his tunic, and the black and silver scabbard of his longsword reflects the light of the sun like a mirror on the metal.

The river moves slowly past him, and with a hand to his brow Vardanil gazes out over the water and to the far bank. "The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began..." he is humming a tune he heard someone in Bree singing once, but he can't remember who it was now.

He seeks for a way across the river, a series of rocks, a down tree, a shallow area to ford, or of course a known Dunedain bridge or rope.

[Grimbold]

It is a small river, only about 15 feet across here. A few stones can be seen looking out the water, though it might be tricky to balance them. A bit further down there is a tree leaning a bit onto the water, so Vardanil thinks he might be able to climb it and jump to the other side. But then, he thinks, he might also be able to wade or swim through it, which would take some strength as the current is quick. The river however does not seem too deep, he guesses 5 feet at most. And just where he is standing there is a bit of free land on his side of the river, so he could get a running start to just jump over.
He is still humming while he ponders his options.

[Vardaen]

Knowing that he's not the best climber or jumper, but an alright swimer Vardanil desides he's going to get a running start and jump as far into the water as he can, and swim the rest of it if he as too, just muscle through. He tests the current with some rocks and sticks and plans to go in where its the least strong.

"I never like this part." He securs his gear, bow, quiver, and sword espcially, and makes sure his pack is tied tightly. Then backing up he takes a running start at the land that juts out into the river and at the end jumps as far as he can, hoping to clear it but ready to swim it if he misses.

[Grimbold]

Vardanil walks back a bit and starts running towards the river.

Roll

Jump:
roll 94-15 (jumping skill)+0 (medium for this distance)=79
he gets 70% of 18 feet (you need a bit to land on) that is 12 feet.
Swimming: roll 58+23=81 success

He jumps as far as he can and lands in the water, a few swim strokes take him to the other side and he emerges, dripping.

Vardanil then continues on his way, whistling. An hour or so later, he comes upon a clearing in the woods that looks like it might have been used as a campsite.

[Vardaen]

At the clearing the young Dunedain stops, and pulls his cloak up over his head and lowers himself down into the brush along the edge of it. He slowls his breathing and listens to the sounds around him, are the birds chirping, is there noise of a fire crackling, can he hear voices? The Ranger waits, poised scanning with all his senses, worried there might be bandits here, but hoping to find other Dunedan men still here. If he spots and hears nothing he stands and strides into the clearing, hand on his sword hilt and inspects the camp, checking the fire pit for signs of age and use, and attempts to find tracks or signs of how man men might have been here and when.

[Grimbold]

Vardanil looks around and when he sees noone, he silently stalks into the camp. It looks old, he can see the remains of a campfire, some thrown-away food. The camp looks as if it has been left some time ago, perhaps four or five days ago.
Vardanil kneels down and examines the ground. Luckily, it has not rained in the last days so the tracks are easily seen. Probably it was not the Rangers of the North, he thinks, they would set up their camp differently. Must have been perhaps 8 or 10 men, in leather boots, must have some skills in the wilds. He also finds a broken arrow. Looking around more, he finds the tracks of something heavy that had stood beside the camp, a crate or box of some kind.
Then he spots something golden glittering a few feet away from the camp.

Roll

Tracking:
rolled 70+40=110 success

[Vardaen]

Hmmm. Eight...no ten men perhaps. Lugging something heavy with them. He checks the fire and then the food, "Careless with their goods.... not Dunedain." He pauses and picks up the arrow, and rolls it over in his hands. He then puts the arrow into his pack for later reference. "Hello, what is this?" He stands and moves to the glittering object and brushes the grass to the side to exmain what it is.

[Grimbold]

Vardanil sees a brooch, used to hold together a cloak or something. It is small, golden and has the form of a seven pointed star, just like Vardanil's only that his is silver.

[Vardaen]

Scooping up the broach the young mand turns it over in his head, inspecting it he looks for an engraving on it. "What is this? No one of the Dunedain would carelessly drop it. Someone is in trouble, this was a sign." He stands up and scans the camp, he attempts to locate the trail of the men with the heavy chest and attempts to find which way out of the camp it leads. Perhaps I better follow this. He brushes his long hair out of his face and swallows hard, hand resting with his thumb looped in his belt. The other hand looking over the broach still.

[Grimbold]

Vardanil knows it is pointless to follow a track five days old in the wilderness, even in good weather. There are too many places on the way he could lose the trail. He was indeed lucky and skillful to find the brooch and the other information about the camp. But this company of strange men are gone and have only left behind riddles on the ground.

On the brooch he finds an inscription in elven letters, but in a language he cannot understand.