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.
Through luck, or fate, Velethahl continues on the road for another two days after passing Amon Sal. The lands become more populated and farms and fields dot the countryside. The locals are a mix of Northmen, Dunlendings and Eriadorians, with some Dúnadan blood mixed in now and then. When the woodelf passes, people stop and stare, some with an uneasy suspicion (making gestures of warding), some with bland curiosity.
To the north, Velethahl can see some hills and beyond them he knows lie the Midgewater Marshes. The weather has been hot and dry, not a drop of rain falling from the sky. Probably the farmers are praying for a bit of rain, he thinks.
He reaches the gates of Bree perhaps one hour after sundown.
With his elf-eyes, he can see two guards at the gate, getting ready to close it for the night.
The two guards are wearing studded leather armor and have short spears and shortswords. One is tall and blond, sporting a short beard, the other is of medium size but very broad and well muscled. He has a long black moustache.
The two guards eye him suspiciously, and one of them asks: "Bless my beard! An elf! You're not here to bewitch us, are you?"
Velethahl lets out a chuckle at the guard's question.
"Sorry boys but I'm all out of bewitchings for the day. If you are interested in one I can wander back this way tomorrow. For tonight all I want is some food, rest, and maybe a bit of talk. I always like to keep up on local news when I travel. Is there anything I should know about happening in these parts?"
The guards back away a bit and point their spears in Velethahl's direction. "Should we kill'im before he comes back and curses us?" one whispers. The other shakes his head: "No, perhaps there are more."
He nods the elf through the gate: "Master elf, do not bewitch anyone in this peaceful town. If you do we will find out and come and hunt you down and kill you dead!" His breath reeks of alcohol and so his threat does not sound, well, threatening.
Velethahl no strolls down the streets of Bree. He has once heard of the Prancing Pony Inn.
Velethahl immediately started looking for the Prancing Pony Inn. He guessed that people would not take kindly to someone wandering around town at night. Finding a secure place to stay was his first priority so he hurried down the streets looking for the Prancing Pony.
There are not many people about, and those who must walk the streets do so hurriedly and hasten to safe spots. Somehow Velethahl finds the entrance to the inn.
His eyes, acquainted with the dark, spot two figures exiting the inn, a tall man and a dwarf. His elf eyes can spot a silver star brooch on the man. They both disappear into a small nearby alley.
Velethahl turns to follow the man and dwarf down the alley. The symbol looks familiar and dwarves are not exactly common in these parts. Strange folk such as these are likely involved in something worthy of his interest.
The Mirkwood stalker moves silently behind the two figures, who carefully walk down the alley and come to an open space with several apple trees, an orchard. Velethahl can see two more figures waiting for them beneath the trees.
Velethahl stalk, total: 148, need 160 to spot. Velethahl moves like a shadow in the night.
Using the darkness as a cloak Velethahl approaches the dwarf and men quietly. He tries to get close enough to see the men's faces and to hear any conversations they may have. If that brooch was the ranger emblem then this could be the man Velethahl has been sent to help, or an imposter posing as a ranger. For now Velethahl stays in the shadows hoping to get more information before possibly revealing himself.
