The Hills of Evendim RPG

[piosenniel]

Elora's post

In the 12th year of the Fouth Age Bree was a busy place, blossoming in prosperity now that order had been restored with the return of a King to the throne of the Reunited Kingdom. On the edge of the now protected Shire, Bree was a meeting place of many. Hobbits came and went with increasing regularity, realising the profit to be made in trade with the Big Folk. The commerce of Middle-earth brought many varied people to see it done. Elves were rare, many bypassing the streets and inns of the mannish town for the quieter woods. Dwarves occasionally stumped through. Bree was a town built of stone largely, and it had need of masons after the War of the Ring and Sharkey’s malicious damage had been and gone.

Mostly, it was Men and Hobbits that filled the streets, shops, forges and guesting houses that made up Bree. Barliman Butterbur’s excellent inn, The Prancing Pony was perhaps the most renowned meeting place in the lands for a good 50 miles. The Master of Buckland had chosen it well, for precisely this reason. Where else would you find such folk willing as to brave the Wilds in search of a missing messenger from Rohan? Rangers came and went as ever. So too did many sturdy folk of good hearts and endurance willing, it was hoped, to lend their aid.

Eodwine of Rohan, if he lived, would be in sore need of such stout people. The Master of Buckland's appointed representative, Doderic Brandybuck, made his way to the Prancing Pony even now. With him were two already. Another four also travelled for the Prancing Pony with the intent to find and retrieve the man that brigands had snatched in the north. Falowik the Wanderer had been clear and concise in his report. He had seen the messenger viciously attacked and then taken. With no way of knowing whether Eodwine lived and only his pleading gaze as he was first set upon sent to where Falowik sheltered wisely in the undergrowth, the wanderer had reluctantly shed his hiding to retrieve the satchel, stained with Eodwine’s blood, from where it lay discarded on the ground.

Reluctantly, he’d found Shiriff Falco Boffin at the Merry Archer Inn of Stonebow and told of what he had seen. Met with suspicion, for Falowik was no stranger to Bree, word had been sent to the Master of Buckland and the call for a search party to set out had been made. Much had passed at the Merry Archer Inn. Falowik was not the only wanderer who found himself there at Stonebow. Events moved swiftly once the Master of Buckland learnt of Eodwine’s attack. Falowik had been summonsed and set to the task of finding the messenger. It was not the first attack in the northern wilds of Eriador. Lawless men roamed there, preying on any and all that crossed their paths. Rumour spread beyond Bree and the Master of Buckland that perhaps it was more than ruffian outlaws that hunted the desolate expanse of the North Downs.

Nothing could be sure. No one ever returned to speak of what they saw after they set out northwards from Bree. That would change if the Master of Buckland had his way and he was a Hobbit accustomed to having his way. There was more at stake, perhaps, than the life of a messenger from Rohan. Those that went to find him would be charged with the duty to discover all that they could. Perhaps, it was hoped, they would find nothing but a bedraggled and gaunt band of criminals ranging like starving wolves. Perhaps…

That would be grim enough a peril. The Master of Buckland had made it clear that those that set out to face whatever waited for them in the Wilds, would have all they needed to meet such a danger. Horses, provisions, weapons and maps, all were to be provided as per the Master’s written ordinance sent with Doderic to the Prancing Pony. There he would wait for the others to arrive and gather yet more to their cause. Any price, but not their lives hopefully, to save Eodwine and gather the much needed information concerning the troubling events of northern Eriador. The Prancing Pony would be the starting place of another Fellowship of sorts.