Sailing Away RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 01-04-2005, 02:58 AM

Firefoot’s post

Sondo hurriedly shoveled down his breakfast. He was eating by himself this fine May morning, a rather unusual occurrence. His friends, scattered across the large dining hall, were likewise alone; they had all agreed it would be best if they were not seen leaving Brandy Hall together so as not to arouse suspicion. For this was the day that his adventure was to start! Sondo had been awaiting this day for some time, ever since he had decided on his newest and grandest exploit yet: to sail down the Brandywine and explore new lands and come back, maybe even with treasure like old Mad Baggins had.

Upon finishing his breakfast, Sondo stood to take his plate back to the kitchen. Such was his good mood that Sondo bid the cook a good day as he delivered his dish. She recognized him; Sondo had caused trouble more than once in her kitchen.

“Be off with you!” said the cook, smiling and shaking her long spoon at him. “And if you are to cause any trouble this day, make sure that it is not in my kitchen!” Sondo laughed and promised that he wouldn’t, for once meaning every word. As he threaded his way back through the long dining tables, he passed a few of his friends and exchanged discreet conspiratorial glances. Those who knew Sondo well would recognize the look on his face as the one he wore when he was up to something.

The hallways were fairly busy, but Sondo passed through them unnoticed - it was the start of a busy day and no one paid much attention to a young hobbit lad. He slipped out one of the side doors while no one was watching. It was the perfect day to start an adventure: the sky was deep blue and a light breezed caressed his face, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of spring. He struck up a fair pace and whistled as he walked, taking the road south past the turn to Bucklebury Ferry.

As he walked, Sondo allowed himself to review the past few weeks with great satisfaction at what had been accomplished. There had been much to do and plan before he could leave. He had first needed to convince his friends what a wonderful idea it was. This had perhaps been the easiest part, because Sondo could make even the most fool-hardy plan sound like a brilliant idea to his group of friends, and they had taken to the idea almost immediately anyhow. He could not even begin to count the near-misses and scrapes he had gotten them into, but still they listened to him, for often as not his ideas worked out excellently and they had a fun time carrying them out.

The next step had been to build a raft and secure supplies. After all, one could not have an adventure without proper supplies. Slowly, secretly, they had confiscated tools and food from the immeasurable resources of Brandy Hall. Someone had found an oilcloth to keep the needed supplies safe from water, because whatever they found had to be stored in their secret stash near the bank of the Brandywine. This was the same cove where they had kept the unfinished raft. Sondo had found himself a hunting knife, a weapon he deemed fitting for adventures. It was in his pocket now - he could not have worn it outwardly inside Brandy Hall because it would have been noticed for sure. The food, enough for several days, had been stolen from the kitchen over the course of the past week. Their sailing vessel was of simple design: logs roped together and caulked with tar, and a makeshift mast with a sheet tied to it for a sail. The hobbits had only finished and tested their raft yesterday, and found with great jubilation that it floated easily, even with all of their weight on top of it. Then they had secured their supplies to the raft and covered those with the oilcloth, ready for sailing.

It was not long before Sondo came to the little creek that crossed the road. The road was clear, so Sondo turned to follow the stream to the Brandywine. The land here between the road and the river was covered by a sparse forest, so the Brandywine did not come into vision until he was nearly upon it. The surface of the muddy river appeared to flow lazily, but Sondo knew that the current was much swifter than it looked. He turned left to reach the storage location of the raft. The place was a little inlet, invisible from every angle except the north, and only then at a close range.

Sondo was the first to arrive, and he was relieved to find everything exactly as it had been left. He resisted the urge to look and make sure the oilcloth was secured correctly. It had been checked several times already and the supplies had been arranged specifically so that the things that would be needed first were on top. There was no need to rearrange. Having nothing else to do, Sondo sat down on the raft with his back to the mast and waited for his companions to show up, dreaming of the adventures he would have, each one being more fantastical than the last.

01-04-2005, 02:58 AM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Sailing Away RPG Firefoot’s post Sondo hurriedly shoveled down his breakfast. He was eating by himself this fine May morning, a rather unusual occurrence. His friends, scattered across the large dining hall, were likewise alone; they had all agreed it would be best if they were not seen leaving Brandy Hall together so as not to arouse suspicion. For this was the day that his adventure was to start! Sondo had been awaiting this day for some time, ever since he had decided on his newest and grandest exploit yet: to sail down the Brandywine and explore new lands and come back, maybe even with treasure like old Mad Baggins had. Upon finishing his breakfast, Sondo stood to take his plate back to the kitchen. Such was his good mood that Sondo bid the cook a good day as he delivered his dish. She recognized him; Sondo had caused trouble more than once in her kitchen. “Be off with you!” said the cook, smiling and shaking her long spoon at him. “And if you are to cause any trouble this day, make sure that it is not in my kitchen!” Sondo laughed and promised that he wouldn’t, for once meaning every word. As he threaded his way back through the long dining tables, he passed a few of his friends and exchanged discreet conspiratorial glances. Those who knew Sondo well would recognize the look on his face as the one he wore when he was up to something. The hallways were fairly busy, but Sondo passed through them unnoticed - it was the start of a busy day and no one paid much attention to a young hobbit lad. He slipped out one of the side doors while no one was watching. It was the perfect day to start an adventure: the sky was deep blue and a light breezed caressed his face, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of spring. He struck up a fair pace and whistled as he walked, taking the road south past the turn to Bucklebury Ferry. As he walked, Sondo allowed himself to review the past few weeks with great satisfaction at what had been accomplished. There had been much to do and plan before he could leave. He had first needed to convince his friends what a wonderful idea it was. This had perhaps been the easiest part, because Sondo could make even the most fool-hardy plan sound like a brilliant idea to his group of friends, and they had taken to the idea almost immediately anyhow. He could not even begin to count the near-misses and scrapes he had gotten them into, but still they listened to him, for often as not his ideas worked out excellently and they had a fun time carrying them out. The next step had been to build a raft and secure supplies. After all, one could not have an adventure without proper supplies. Slowly, secretly, they had confiscated tools and food from the immeasurable resources of Brandy Hall. Someone had found an oilcloth to keep the needed supplies safe from water, because whatever they found had to be stored in their secret stash near the bank of the Brandywine. This was the same cove where they had kept the unfinished raft. Sondo had found himself a hunting knife, a weapon he deemed fitting for adventures. It was in his pocket now - he could not have worn it outwardly inside Brandy Hall because it would have been noticed for sure. The food, enough for several days, had been stolen from the kitchen over the course of the past week. Their sailing vessel was of simple design: logs roped together and caulked with tar, and a makeshift mast with a sheet tied to it for a sail. The hobbits had only finished and tested their raft yesterday, and found with great jubilation that it floated easily, even with all of their weight on top of it. Then they had secured their supplies to the raft and covered those with the oilcloth, ready for sailing. It was not long before Sondo came to the little creek that crossed the road. The road was clear, so Sondo turned to follow the stream to the Brandywine. The land here between the road and the river was covered by a sparse forest, so the Brandywine did not come into vision until he was nearly upon it. The surface of the muddy river appeared to flow lazily, but Sondo knew that the current was much swifter than it looked. He turned left to reach the storage location of the raft. The place was a little inlet, invisible from every angle except the north, and only then at a close range. Sondo was the first to arrive, and he was relieved to find everything exactly as it had been left. He resisted the urge to look and make sure the oilcloth was secured correctly. It had been checked several times already and the supplies had been arranged specifically so that the things that would be needed first were on top. There was no need to rearrange. Having nothing else to do, Sondo sat down on the raft with his back to the mast and waited for his companions to show up, dreaming of the adventures he would have, each one being more fantastical than the last.