The Long Winter RPG

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl walked in behind Carl, and watched him swinging the squirrel. Shw quietly walked beside him, and tapped his shoulder. He looked at her with a slight jump.

"I guess you don't need me to cook that squirrel now...that we've reached this pub, I mean." She looked down at the bloody squirrel.

He stomped his feet on the rug as they stepped into the dim light, and he slightly blushed. "Well, I dunno. I might eat outside. I don't want all these little girls hanging around.

Dafodyl turned red. "Little Girls, aye? Well, not all women are little stay at home mothers and cooks. Nope. Not me." She smiled slightly and looked at him, and he just replied 'oh.'

"Well, whatever you do, you better eat. We won't have alot of bars along the trail, so take advantage of them." She patted his back, and walked farther into the smokey room.

[Galadel Vinorel]

As Autumn stood by the bar ordering four mugs of ale, she saw Dafodyl and Carl walk into the bar. Carl was swinging a bloody squirrel and Dafodyl looked sort of angry at him.

Autumn smiled as Dafodyl walked up to the bar to order a drink. "Hello," said Autumn.

Daffodyl looked over at the hobbit lass, slightly surprised. "Hello, Autumn. So, have you been enjoying the journey so far?" asked Dafodyl, smiling over at the hobbit lass, not yet come of age.

Autumn nodded, taking the ales from the bartender. "Yes. Especially the snowball fight. I loved when Bullroarer threw that big snowball at Lotho. I didn't expect him to do that, since he always acts so serious all of the time. But, after that, I have decided that Bullroarer is actually a pretty nice hobbit, though I wouldn't want to get on his bad side." said Autumn with a shiver as she watched Bullroarer enter the Inn.

Autumn turned towards a table where Robin, Giles, and Dinadas were sitting waving at her and calling her to come over. Suddenly, Autumn turned back to Dafodyl and smiled. "Do you want to join my friends and I at our table, Dafodyl?" asked Autumn, smiling at the older hobbit, "You can even invite your friend, Carl, to come with us if you want."

Dafodyl looked over at the three cheerful hobbits sitting at their table, enjoying one another's company, and then at Carl standing up with the bloody squirrel, not quite sure what to do with it, and then back over to the smiling Autumn.

[ December 01, 2002: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[piosenniel]

The common room of the Floating Log was abuzz with the chatter of Hobbits when Bullroarer descended the stairs from his room. Well fed and warm, the Hobbits had gathered into groups and were discussing the first day of the journey. From where he stood on the steps, he could see Giles, Robin and Dinodas laughing at something Autumn had said, and he watched as Daffodyl and then Carl drifted over to join the conversation. Branda sat at a table with Lotho, both drinking ale and engaged in some low voiced conversation with much gesturing for emphasis. Elenna and Celandine sat with Daisy and appeared to be trading stories with Hal and Gaddy.

He walked quietly into the room, and stopped a passing serving girl, asking for a mug of ale. He walked up to the bar where Gundabald, the Innkeeper stood and bade him a good evening. Old Gunny, as he was called in Frogmorton,had heard of Bullroarer's mission to the Elves and plied him with questions.

The Floating Log, as well as most of Frogmorton, had succumbed to the dire progress of this long winter. Bullroarer had noted how the stew served that night, once quite rich and thick and the talk of travellers to the eastern Shire was now grown thin, souplike, with the stray vegetable floating here and there and only the vaguest hint of soupbone present. The ale, too, was thin, and there was no wine to be had at all. Still the hospitality of the Inn kept to its former standards and all were well served with what slim fare was available.

Bullroarer wandered over to Branda's table and asked if he might speak with him for a few moments. Branda nodded his assent, and Bullroarer asked if he might gather the Hobbits together sometime this evening and have them decide who might lead the group tomorrow. If they got an early start, they might make it to Whitfurrows and possibly just beyond by tomorrow evening. He was eager to leave the boundaries of the Shire behind as soon as possible, before heavier snows came.

Gunny had spoken quietly to him of the trouble they'd had lately with packs of Wargs coming farther into the boundaries of the Shire as hunger made them bolder. Bullroarer relayed his concern to Branda, saying that the sooner they got to Rivendell and back the better in his book.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin and Dinodas introduced themselves to Dafodyl, and then they began to chat, mostly talking about snowball fights. Autumn and Dinodas told of times when they were children and had snowball fights with their little brother for Autumn, little sister for Dinodas.

Robin was half listening, but she was mostly gazing around the inn. "Strange not to be at the Green Dragon safe," she muttered to herself. "We're going on a dangerous adventure."

"Hmm?" said Giles, thinking Robin had been speaking to him.

"Oh," said Robin, smiling at him. "I was just thinking how we're going on a dangerous adventure instead of enjoying ale and food with the promise of a warm home when we leave."

"I think the same thing sometimes," Giles agreed.

"Hey, Gaddy, Hal, Daisy!" Dinodas called across the room. "Over here, you three! Sit here and join us!"

[Alkanoonion]

Carl stood alone while Dafodyl talked to Autumn. Carl felt silly holding the bloody squirrel but he did not want to waste the precious meet. Leaving the inn and going back outside Carl proceeded to cut the squirrel up into long strips and opening a pouch strapped to his belt, he removed a parcel of salt and proceeded to cure the meet. With this task complete Carl repacked the now preserved meet into his backpack.

As Carl was turning to go back in to the Floating log he thought he could hear what sounded like howling in the air. Looking about and straining his ears he could not see or hear any more noise.
‘Must be the wind’ thought Carl before returning to the Floating log for a well-deserved beer.

Upon entering the floting log Carl spotted Robin, Dinodas, Dafodyl, Autumn and Giles talking and decided to join them.

Walking up to the table Carl asked
"Mind if I join you for a round?, my treat!"

[Nurumaiel]

"Hello," Dinodas said, smiling broadly at Carl. "Here's one adventurer I haven't met yet. What's your name?"

"Carl," the hobbit replied. "Carl Hoarwell."

"And I'm Dinodas Green, and my friends are Giles Harfoot, Daffodyl Bulger, and Autumn Gamwich."

"And I'm Robin Brandybuck," Robin said, looking at Dinodas and rolling her eyes.

"And we're trying to get three of our friends over here," Dinodas added, then called. "Gaddy, or whoever is in charge of your group, get over here now!"

Autumn giggled while Robin rolled her eyes again, trying to hide a smile.

"Welcome to our table," Giles said, and they all laughed again.

[dragoneyes]

"All right, all right, we're a-coming!" said Hal picking up his Ale and coming over to the table.
"Why're you so desperate to get us over here anyway?" asked Gaddy,
"Oh, I thought it would be better for us to get to know each other. I'm Dinodas Green, this is Giles Harfoot, Autumn Gamwich, Daffodyl Bulger and Carl Hoarwell" he said pointing to each one in turn.
"And I'm Robin Brandybuck" said Robin sighing audiably,
"I'm Halwon Cotton and these two here are Gaddbard Boffin and Daisy Took." There was a chorus of "hello"s as the three sat down.

"I've still got snow down my back from that snowball you threw at me." said Gaddy to Dinodas, who smiled and said,
"I'm just a good shot, that's all."
"I'm really glad there's a fire in here." Gaddy continued,
"The soup's good too," added Hal,
"Our soup back home is getting nearer and nearer water, but we've plenty of bread."
"Nice bread it is aswell!" said Gaddy,
"They're always lending us some, they've got some inexaustable supply of bread somewhere, I'm sure of it."

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Daffodyl stared down into her runny, watery soup and said sadly to whomever would listen: "I remember when I was little, Papa would take us down the long road, to this very place. It was always warm, and fun, and the food was delicious. My closest of age brother, Gaberiel, who is 51, would always race me, until..." She looked up and closed her eyes for just a few seconds. "Until he got pneumonia, and couldn't leave the house. He tried to come with me, but he's all skin and bones, and so, so pale. I got to get food for him..." She sighed and looked around.

"Well, on a lighter note, what did all of you like to do before this winter came? I loved camping. And fishing and... well, what about you?" She looked around, with a bit more excitment.

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[dragoneyes]

Hal listened to Autumns little speech with sadness, she had obviously been harder off than he had, but he thought about her question, what did he do?
"I've worked for me father since I were about 15, before that I helped look after me younger sisters, and when they got old enough to look after each other I looked after Gaddy,"
"Not that I needed looking after." added Gaddy,
"That's what you say, remember the time you fell over and knocked yerself out? You can't tell me you didn't need help then."

Hal thought back, they'd been playing 'it' in Hal's apple orchard when Gaddy had fallen over and hit his head against a tree. Hal had been worried out of his mind, but he'd plucked up Gaddy out of the grass and got him to the house and called for the doctor.

"I can remember times when I've saved you though," said Gaddy, bringing Hal back to the present with a bump.
"Oh yes? When?" said Hal,
"Like that time when... when... when you..."
"Ha! There, you've never saved me." said Hal triumphantly.

Gaddy searched his memory for a time when he'd helped Hal, he sat for a while, while the conversation around him struck up again and continued on a different track. There had to be something that Gaddy'd done for Hal. He thought for a little longer before,
"A-ha!" everyone stopped and looked at him, "That time with the cart!" Hal looked at him, none the wiser,
"What?" he said,
"That time, 15 years ago, when you were playing around on your father's cart, you fell of, got your head wedged between the cart wheel and the verge, and then the horse started walking forward. Who stopped the cart?" said Gaddy with a small smile on his face.
"You did," admitted Hal "Oh, alright then you've saved me before,"
"Thankyou." said Gaddy with a winning smile.

Robin was surprized that Hal could've forgotten such an event,
"That sounds like quite an ordeal. How did you forget it?"
"The cart knocked him silly." said Gaddy grinning,
"I'll knock you silly!" said Hal having a small mock-fight with Gaddy. They both knew, though, that it didn't matter haw many times one had saved the other, it really only mattered that they were friends.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC: We had a crossposting. Everyone should see the discussion thread for an explanation how to fix this.

Branda glanced over at the noisy table beside him that was overflowing with hobbits. The snowball fight had broken the ice as they all chattered away without any sign of strain.

He was relieved to note that Carl had skinned his squirrel and salted the meat. At a time like this, even the smallest morsel of food needed to be treated with respect.

The only hobbit absent from the common room was Bullroarer. He'd spoken with Branda about his plans. Then he'd retired to his own room to think on some of the difficulties of the mission.

Branda suggested that Lotho and Emerald join the larger table to talk. The hobbits dragged over an extra bench, so that everyone would cosily fit in. Branda excused himself to Daffodyl for interrupting her conversation, saying he was very sorry, but they needed to decide on their plans for the next day.

He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a map, and set it down for all to see. Branda was slowly getting the hang of mapreading. He'd confessed his ignorance to Emerald and Lotho, and they had helped him.

Branda pounded on the table like a junior Bullroarer to get the hobbits' attention. Then, he raised his flagon for a toast, "To the Shire, and to success on the road!"

There were many sounds of "here, here!" in their own circle and even from other guests who wished them well on the trek.

Encouraged by success, Branda tried a second time, "To the Elves, our friends!"

Branda's own table cheered aplenty at that, but the noise from the other hobbits was not quite so loud. It was not that anyone actually disliked the Elves, just that they seemed quite strange and different. And many there had never seen or spoken with any of the fair folk.

Branda pointed to the map. "Tomorrow, we need to make Whitefurrows, or a little beyond. We must arrive well before nightfall."

Emerald stood up and objected, "But that's barely ten miles. It should be a snap. Can't we go further than that?"

"Sorry Emerald. There's a problem. I expect you're thinking of staying at the "Barking Hound", but I've got some bad news."

Faces around the table fell. Most had indeed anticipated another warm bed, a roaring hearth fire, and a good pint.

Branda sighed, "The Barking Hound was closed last week. The owner's cupboard was bare."

"But couldn't we at least sleep there?" Giles suggested. It would be warmer than camping in the woods."

"I wish we could, but the fellow took his family and cleared out. They've boarded up the Inn. Some say he's gone to stay with his brother in Southfarthing who has more food than he does."

There were groans and moans at this unhappy prospect.

"Tomorrow, we need a group to scout out the road ahead. You'll need to rise early, and get a head start. The road shouldn't be dangerous, since we're still within the Shire, but you've got to set up some kind of sleeping arrangements for us. Persuade a farmer to let us into his stable or haystack, preferably something inside. If anyone knows a family along the East road near Whitefurrows, then you and your group would be perfect for the job."

"I also need another volunteer. Someone who knows how to ice fish, or who'd like to learn. The Water stands less than two miles north of Whitfurrows. If we can arrive there in the late afternoon, we'll go fishing, especially since we'll need to repay the farmer for his help. Even gold seems to have less meaning these days. What talks is something that fills the belly."

"Anyways," Branda explained, "I'll go with someone and catch a batch of fish to feed ourselves, and our host. The scouting party can let the farmer know that. They'll be more likely to take us in."

Giles, ever cautious, looked over at Branda, "But is that a good idea, to have you and another straying off the main road? There's been talk of howling wolves off the main thoroughfair. And the snowdrifts may be piled high."

"Aye, I'm aware, but we have little choice. The river there is good for fishing. I can guarantee you a catch. There's no Inn for us to eat at. In normal times, a farmer would throw open his larder to us, but these times aren't normal. And we mustn't eat up all the extra fish Sandy is carrying. That's for a real pinch. We're not in so badly yet we have to eat all our back-up food."

"So, now, I need a group of hobbits to scout the road and secure a place to sleep, and another person to come fishing with me. Just come forward and tell me. The rest of you, finish your ale and get to bed. We'll be up early."

Just then, the door blew wickedly open, and the Innkeeper came staggering in under a heavy load of fireplace logs. He was completely covered with snow, and grim words came out of his mouth, "It's getting really bad out there. Worse than before."

The hobbits looked at each other and sighed.

"And, by the way, Branda grinned, "Bullroarer said if no one volunteered, he'd be volunteering them, by pulling them out of bed early in the morning!" All of the hobbits groaned again.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Giles Harfoot sprang slightly forward in his chair at the wind's blasting open the door, but kept himself from dashing out into the whirling whorling whitelands. He'd recovered from his first shock of realizing he was off to have an adventure, that sober night of slim soup eaten all alone followed by the finality of packing equipment onto Puddlejump the Pony. He'd withdrawn into himself that other night, hoping that in the morning he'd awake to bacon frying, and blueberry pancakes with butter, and gentle spring drizzle melting into a rainbow and long soft grass beneath his feet instead of harsh, unrelenting ice. *

* He'd even hoped, (though he felt bad about it) that the valiant Bullroarer Took's grand quest was only a fable of old, or indeed, of fantasy. A fable best heard at a picnic under the Party Tree in Midsummer, as fireflies flitted languidly and stars peeked out to glow in a warm haze, not glint like hard cold crystals. But now, surrounded by new friends, warmth and laughter, Giles' love of winter from deep childhood came to the fore. *

I KNOW A FAMILY ALONG THE EAST ROAD NEAR WHITFURROWS, BRANDA !!! ... * Realizing how loud his voice had grown in his enthusiasm, Giles turned beet red. * ... Their name is Harfoot! There are plenty o' Harfoots, in fact! They're my kin!

* Giles jumped to his feet as though he'd just danced the springle-ring, or was just about to launch into dance. * I then volunteer to scout the road ahead tomorrow, Autumn and I. Right Autumn? * He flashed her a disarming smile. * [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

* Giles bowed with a flourish and sat content. Certainly he'd be accepted as a volunteer. He didn't speak aloud all that was in his mind, however. For one thing, Giles hoped no one had caught the shudder that had run through him at the mention of fish. Fish had twice been his bane and bested him in the past year ... Once, he'd gotten a bad batch of clams, and then there was a catch of perch which hadn't agreed with him. Giles figured that there had to be Some other food-game around, fowl in particular maybe, quail, pheasant, duck, goose. Or even a good rabbit. A deer was too big a feast to hope for, but still he hoped. *

* Giles' other unspoken thought revolved around the boarded up Inn. Surely since the occupants had left The Barking Hound of their own choosing, and surely since need drove the group ... Well, being a carpenter, removing nails from boards was easy as pie. Easier, sadly, since pies were now hard to come by. And those boards ... they could prove useful, maybe. *

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Corrected crossposting:-- Losthuniel's post:

Celandine raised her mug of cider especially high at Branda's toast to the elves. She fidgeted a little, as another lump of snow in her clothing melted. She had tripped and fallen into the snow during the snowball fight, ad as a result, had snow packed down her back.

She shivered as the Innkeeper banged the door open, and announce that ther weather had just gotten worse. Celandine sighed. Not only did she hate the cold, one of her ponies, Cockleshell, detested snow. She winced at the thought of having to fight with her . Cockle was stubborn at the best of times.

The conversation at her table started up again. Everyone was talking about their families, and why they had come along. Many of them had siblings, either sick or young, that they were desperate to get food for.
She didn't really have a noble motivation to come along, aside from her sick Aunt May.
And Anston. She reminded herself he wanted me to go, even if he couldn't himself

Feeling her jaw crack with a huge yawn, Celandine suddenly realized tht they would have a early start tomorrow, whether they were scouting or now. Taking her leave, she winced as she stood up, for the snow around her collar melted, and went trickling down her bac. I suppose I'd better get used to it, she thought wryly. Setting her mug down on the table, she stumbled up the stairs and to her room.

[Nurumaiel]

Dinodas found himself staring at Branda as he thought, because Branda was involved in what he was thinking about. He could feel Robin nudging him, but he did not want to speak yet. Glancing out the window, he saw the stars twinkling down on the glistening snow. He stood up, and then felt himself going red as he tried to think of what he should say.

"I'll go icefishing with you," he said simply.

"Good lad," Branda said, smiling at him. "Do you know how?"

"No, sir," Dinodas said, shaking his head. Why were his knees trembling? He had only offered to go icefishing with Branda.

"Bullroarer, what do you say to Dinodas accompanying me?" Branda asked their leader, and the two began to discuss it.

Meanwhile Dinodas turned to Robin and saw she was yawning. "I'm going to bed," she said, smiling sleepily at him. "Good for you in volunteering." She stumbled off to her room.

Dinodas gave a deep sigh and continued to watch Robin go to her room. He could feel the eyes of Branda and Bullroarer on him, waiting for him to turn around, but he didn't want to.

He did.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda grinned over to Dinodas and gave him a thumbs up. Bullroarer shook his head yes in agreement.

Then the two hobbits went together up to Branda's bed so Dinodas could see some of the equipment that he'd be using.

Picks, lines, lures, and hooks. That all looked a little familiar to Dinodas. Perhaps this would turn out alright.

As he was leaving, Branda turned to him, "Make sure to bring some kind of weapon. We don't know what we'll run into."

Dinodas swallowed, and nodded his head.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Alkanoonion's Post:

Carl listened to Branda outline his plan for the next day. Branda seemed to be droning on and on. After so much ale and a hard day on the trail, Carl's mind was drifting in and out. He was in danger of falling asleep.

.... Tomorrow, we need a group to scout out the road ahead. You'll need to rise early, and get a head start. The road shouldn't be dangerous, since we're still within the Shire....

Not paying the best attention Carl was making pictures in the tabletop from a puddle of spilt beer, and he only started to really listen at the mention of "howling wolves."

Carl looked up at Branda and said:
"Before, when I was preserving the squirrel meat outside, I thought that I heard a wolf howling in the distance far from the road, but I dismissed it as the wind. Now I am not so sure."

"Perhaps I should scout for the group tomorrow, going far beyond Whitfurrows down to the River, leaving the road and heading cross country to get a sense of the real dangers that lie ahead. Then I will come back and meet you in Whitefurrows at the end of the day. After all I have my bow and dagger, and I am an expert in the art of hunting and scouting."

As he made his speech Carl was fingering his bow and holding it out for the group to see.

He continued on a bit boastfully, "If any wolves are around tomorrow, I will make myself a nice warm wolf fur cloak. Also scouting ahead, I might have the opportunity to catch some more fresh meet for our host."

---------------------------------------------

Child's post

Branda was scratching his head, uncertain what to do. He knew he and Dinodas would be going to the Water to ice-fish after they reached Whitfurrows. But who should he choose to do the scouting tomorrow morning? Giles and Carl seemed to be making very different proposals.

He slowly got up from the bench. His body ached from the exertion of having walked so many miles through the ice and snow. Now, his brain seemed to be aching too. He shook his head. This kind of decision was beyond him and really belonged to Bullroarer. He decided to go up and talk with Bandobras, hoping that he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

It took him a while to locate the hobbit. He finally found him out in the stables talking to one of his horses, scratching the beast behind the ear, and feeding him a poor withered apple.

At Branda's approach, Bullroarer quickly pulled back and addressed the younger hobbit, "Do you have the name of those scouts for me? Speak up, lad. The cat got your tongue?"

Branda blurted out a bumbling explanation about the offers by Giles and Carl, and how he wasn't sure what to do. Bullroarer sat down on a bale of hay, and thought for a minute. Then he spoke, "These two offers are very different, but maybe that is not such a bad thing. Let's do this."

He started drawing a rough picture in the dirt and sand of the stable floor. He put a large dot where Frogmorton was, another for Whitfurrows, and a third where the Brandywine Bridge stood at the end of their roadway.

First, he pointed to the East Road between Frogmorton and Whitfurrows. "This is where Giles will go in the morning along with Autumn. They'll stick to the roadway and scout out any immediate dangers, and let us know if problems arise. Their main job will be to arrange accomodations in Whitfurrows where we'll spend the night."

"Carl will focus his efforts here." He pointed to the countryside north of the roadway which extended from Whitfurrows down to the Brandywine. "If there are problems to be had with wolves, this is where they'll appear."

"Except for my own steed, he has the fastest pony in the group, and is an experienced tracker and woodsman. He sould be able to make good time, going on his own."

"But there's one thing, you've got to tell him." Bullroarer stuck his nose directly in Branda's poor face. "His job is to scout and stay out of sight. A good scout can get a look at wolves without them seeing him. If I hear for one minute, that he's attracted their attention, or, even worse, attacked them, I will personally break his body in two!"

Branda groaned inwardly. He'd been so proud of his new job as Bullroarer's assistant. Now he would have to carry this difficult message back to Carl. Outwardly, he only nodded and acknowledged Bullroarer's orders and went off to tell Giles and Carl.

Giles seemed quite happy to hear the news, but Carl looked less pleased. Knowing that escape was sometimes the most prudent course to take, Branda quickly ducked out of the way, and retreated to his sleeping quarters to turn in for the night. Down the hall, he thought he could hear the sound of things being hurled against the wall. But he couldn't be certain and wasn't about to check.

[ December 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl ducked a flying beer mug, thrown by an unknown hobbit. She yawned, and held her aching head. She anounced to whomever was listening: "I am going to bed. Goodnight!"

She grabbed her small pack, and pushed her way through the crowd of hungry- and some drunken- hobbits. The stairs creaked as she slowly walked up them, with a stream of tired hobbits behind them. The dust on the walls was dusted off while the drunk hobbits stammered to the wall for support.

She found her room at the end of the hall, and put her things behind the door. She saw a small plated with a hard and old biscuit on it. It's all they have, she thought.
She sat on the bed, and ate by the small candle. She stood quickly, and walked with a brisk pace to the window. Outside, the wind and snow beat against the fragile windows. She stared at the snow, but all she could see was white. She sighed, and plopped on the small feather bed. It wasn't as fluffy as it used to be. She sighed, and layed her head down on the almost frozen pillow.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bullroarer returned slowly from the stables to the Inn where he planned to join the other lads in the common sleeping area. As he trudged across the snowy yard, he could see that the weather seemed to be going from bad to worse. The snowflakes were coming down in thick heavy sheets and the wind blowing so hard that it was difficult for the hobbit to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground.

He shook his head in dismay. It looked likely to snow all night. Bullroarer was gifted in the ways of weather, and could often sense or somehow read the signs to tell what might happen. It was an important gift for a hobbit to have. He'd always had this knack, but now the skill seemed even more critical to the well being of the Shire and his people than ever before.

Bullroarer wasn't sure, but he expected the blizzard to continue all night. If he had to guess, he would have said that it might slacken off a bit at the first rays of dawn. Then wither away to a normal snowfall, or what now passed as 'normal' in this strange long winter.

The problem was that no one could venture out on the road until things slackened down a bit. However much Bullroarer wanted to get to Rivendell quickly, it made no sense to go out into a storm and get lost. Roads had a way of vanishing when thick blankets of snow made it impossible to see.

He'd keep an eye on the weather through the night and, if the snow continued, let the hobbits sleep in an extra hour or two. They had little more than ten miles to cover on the morrow. They could easily make it if they started by mid-morning.

Just don't let it accumulate too deeply on the roadside, he thought. Then he went inside and made his way towards his bed.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Ragnarok shook the snow from his coat and shuddered. He attempted a few licks of his matted coat and gave up. The air rose in vapourous swirls from his wide mouth, twisted in either grin or grimace. It was hard to tell.

He looked about him in the blue dawn glow, at what remained of his pack and let out a low growl. Slowly they also rose. He nodded a cursory acknowledgement of the alpha female whom he merely tolerated.

Ragnarok cared for himself above all other Wargs but needed his pack. His pack were no more. He fed on the power he had over them as much as he did on the creatures he killed. Only the she-wolf stood up to him. If she had not been female she would have challenged him for leadership. In these unnatural times, she might yet.

The bones of the pups were raised through their pelts. They squeeled to be fed as the snow began to fall again and catch in their fur.

He had tried to howl last night when the snow had eased and the dark world was illuminated for a while by his beloved moon. No cry had come in answer. He gave himself a disconsolate shake.

Another wolf had died in the night. It's body lay frozen on the ground. There were only three adult wargs left. Himself, the she-wolf and one other. He drew in a bad-tempered breath, as if the demise of his pack was an inconvenience.

Ragnarok padded across to the body. It was an old female. Starved and exhausted her frail body had finally given up on their search for food. The others waited on his order. At least they would have breakfast.

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: Auriel Haevasawen ]

[Alkanoonion]

Carl woke to the wind and snow hitting the inns bedroom window. Raising to a grumbling stomach or was that the wind? Carl thought as the wind continued its rampage against the glass pain, almost as if it was attempting to gain entry into the room. It was not going to be a pleasant morning for him. Rising out of bed Carl stepped onto the cold floor, Hopping from foot to foot from the cold floor he quickly jumped back onto the bed. Rubbing his cold feet to return the warmth he quickly retrieved a pair of slippers, a new invention for him, before this cold winter he had never warn coverings on his feet but drastic times called for drastic measures.

With his feet now covered Carl walked to the window and looking out at the inns yard he could just make out the snow swirling about, most definitely an unpleasant day thought Carl. Dressing for warmth as well as for protection from the wicked wind Carl made his way to the Common room. On his way out he grabbed his bow a quiver and his trusty dagger.

Entering the common room and finding the innkeeper already up Carl placed his order for breakfast. Sitting down at a bench Carl made quick work of the Porridge that the innkeeper delivered and to wash it all down Carl had a cup of hot tea. Rising from the bench Carl made his way to the stable to prepare his pony from the long day ahead, was getting lite and he needed to leave soon on his way north towards the Brandywine.

With his pony ready Carl made his way out of the inns yard. Once clear of the scanty protection that the inns yard had provided the wind and snow immediately assaulted the young hobbit and his pony forcing them to crouch low, definitely not a good day thought Carl as he made his way north towards the Brandywine.

[ December 03, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* At daybreak, overlapping snowflakes tagging each other in their race to earth was all the eye could see out the frost-laced window. Autumn leaned over her porridge-bowl and mug of tea to giggle, then whisper conspiratorially to Giles. Giles jumped, half-asleep and half-hypnotized by the snow. Autumn giggled louder, looking around to make sure neither Bullroarer nor the Innkeeper were around. Satisfied that no one would overhear, she nodded once and began. *

Giles, I've come up with a trick. See if you like it. We could volunteer to refill the water canteens for everyone and then fill them up with ale. When people ask why the water tastes so strange, we can say that the cold made it taste like that. The poor hobbits, after they drink enough of it, will then become drunk!! [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] So, what do you think, Giles?

* Giles yawned and rubbed morning weariness from his eyes. As Autumn's trick idea sank into his sleep-benumbed mind, a smile lit his face and Giles stuffed a knuckle in his mouth to keep from laughing. That gave him just enough time to think better of it. *

Can't have drunken Hobbits staggering off into snowdrifts and freezing to death, endangered on our mission to Rivendell through our joking around. But I wouldn't mind serving water with a harmless secret ingredient ... pepper, maybe. Or, or ... here's another idea, Autumn! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

* Giles's eyes glinted as he whispered mischievously to Autumn. Then he called for the Innkeeper. * May I have some pepper, please? And salt too, if you've any to spare.

* The Innkeeper plunked down tin containers of salt and pepper on the board before them. * Take as much as you want, though there's no eggs or bacon to season, and your porridge-bowls are empty.

* Giles handed the full containers of salt and pepper to Autumn. Walking to another table, he helped himself to a second set of full salt and pepper tins which he stashed away in his trouser pockets. *

* Then at last the two scouts and their ponies were underway. The wind and blowing snow were so fierce that Giles was glad of his black hawthorn whacking stick to steady him, his trousers styled long down to his ankles after the Mannish fashion, and his thick brown wool cloak and hood. *

* The snow was easily waist deep in patchy drifts blown across the road, so from time to time Giles cleared a path for Autumn with his small shovel. The path remained in place just long enough for her to pass before the wind filled it up with snow again, leaving no trace of their passage. So on they trudged, mile after mile, into the unchanging white ahead bordered by the buried shadowy-blue shapes of trees left and right. *

[ December 03, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bullroarer rose at dawn and peered out the window. As he had guessed last night, the sheets of swirling snow were just now beginning to blow less violently. It would take another two hours before such a large group of hobbits could safely find its way down the road.

At least the roadway itself didn't seem to be totally obstructed. The wind had blown most of the snow into tall banks along the side. It was still possible to push their way through the middle, although they might have to slow up here and there to plough through particularly heavy drifts that came far up their legs.. As soon as the blizzard let up enough for them to see more clearly, they'd need to get started.

The scouts had already taken their leave from the inn. Bullroarer hadn't been pleased to see them going out in such horrid weather. But, with the scouts, there was little choice. They needed to get a head start or they'd never make it back in time.

Bullroarer decided to let the rest of the hobbits sleep another hour and then wake them for breakfast and a hasty departure. Food and adequate rest could become increasingly rare as the trip progressed. Might as well take advantage of an extra hour of sleep while it was still available.

He went down to the common room to speak with the Innkeeper. Bacon and eggs were no longer on the menu, but at least there was still a plentiful supply of thin porridge and hot tea. He placed an order for the entire company, and paid for it out of his own pocket. Bullroarer was known for his temper and stubborn will, but he was also reputed to be a most generous patron. In the rooms off the hallway, it was possible to hear the noise of waking hobbits, both the grumpy and cheerful, as they struggled out of bed and made ready for the day.

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Dinodas slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room. There was a faint light shining onto the other sleeping hobbit lads. The sun's first rays were beginning to shine through the window, right into Dinodas's eyes.

He climbed out of bed and stumbled to the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes. As he opened the door, he could smell bacon frying, and he could see that Bullroarer was already awake. With a sleepy, "Good morning," he moved to sit at the table.

He then saw that there was only porridge for breakfast, and he realized that the bacon was only a scent of the past.

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy sat up from her bed and couldn’t believe how cold she was. It was early morning and looking out the window she could see that the snow was coming down a little lighter now, but still heavier and swirling around in the wind more than she would have liked to be going to walk in. It was like looking into white nothingness until Daisy noticed the trees around the inn. Their lifeless, leafless limbs looked like they were reaching for sunlight and warmth that were not to be found. It made the whole area around the inn look very scary and uninviting.

The gray sunless sky made Daisy feel like staying at the inn and staying warm, but she thought of all the other hobbits she traveled with and all those at home counting on her to get to Rivendell and get food. It also gave her the feeling of foreboding, but she didn’t know why. She shrugged her shoulders and decided to get dressed and go downstairs and get some breakfast if possible.

Daisy left her room and made her way down the stairs, which creaked with each step she took. She thought it’s a good thing I’m not trying to sneak up on someone. Once downstairs she looked around to see some of the other hobbits already there and talking amongst themselves. There was a small fire going in the dining area and she rushed over to feel the warmth. She saw Bullroarer and went over to him. “Morning to you” she said to Bullroarer. “It is positively awful outside” she added. Bullroarer did not reply as he seemed to have something on his mind.

Daisy went and sat down at one of the tables and waited for Hal and Gaddy to come down and sit with her. She hoped that the guys could give this lifeless dreary place a little pep while they were waiting to leave for Whitfurrows.

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: Calenedheliel ]

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer tightened his belt as he sat down to breakfast. A small bowl of porridge with a thin drizzle of last summer's meager honey, and a weak cup of tea, from leaves which had seen too much water. He passed up offers of seconds from the serving girl, saying that she was to see to the wants of the other Hobbits first.

He had been up early, long before the wan sunlight had pierced the flying snow on the eastern horizon. Wrapping his thick hooded cloak about him, he had gone to the stables to help the stablehand feed and water the horses and ponies. They had stood there discussing the back wheel on his wagon and how old Mungo had found a way to make it steadier and more road worthy. 'Should make it see them Elves at least.' commented the silver haired blacksmith.

Having finished mucking out several stalls, and freshening up the scant hay in the rack, he leaned on his pitchfork looking out at the pattern of the wind driven snow. His own breath trailed out in great foggy spirals, joining the dancing flakes. He saw both the advance scout parties leave for their destinations from his vantage point in the chill stable.

He was hoping against hope that Carl would find no sign of Wargs, and that the howling he had heard last night was only some trick of the wind. Giles and Autumn he was depending upon to make sure the road ahead was clear and that there would be shelter from the cold and storms for them this coming night.

When he was done seeing to the horses, there was an already noticeable lightening in the sky and a lessening of snow in the persistent wind. Perhaps, with some nod of good fortune their way, it would be clear for most of their trek to Whitfurrows. He frowned slightly, thinking of that town - he had forgotten to ask Giles whether his relatives lived this side of it or further east. They should have made firmer plans to meet up with Giles and Autumn at some predetermined point. He frowned again, wondering if Giles and Carl had spoken.

He strode back to the Inn, and stood at the entry way to the Common Room, stamping his feet to knock most of the drifted snow from them and the bottom of his breeches. The warm air of the room hit him as he walked through the door, and he pulled off his cloak quickly, hanging it up on a peg by the door.

The company was up, though many did not appear as if sleep had come easy to them. Only two days out, and the grim needs of the cold and hungry Shire were beginning to be felt. He sighed deeply, sizing up the strengths and weaknesses of his companions. then, putting a cheerful face on, he strode from table to table greeting each by name, a pat on the back here, a touch on the shoulder there.

The old campaigner rallied his troops and soon had them up, donning their cloaks and shouldering their packs. 'We're only going a short distance today.' he told them, wrapping his own cloak about him. 'We'll rest easy in Whitfurrows tonight, then on the morrow we will strike out on a longer leg of the journey. To the Brandywine river and across the bridge and ten miles beyond, if we can make it. Then in two days time from that we can travel past the Barrow Downs in daylight, and pushing it, come near to Bree.

There were mutterings and dark looks at the mention of the Barrow Downs. But Bullroarer gave them no time to complain. He led them quickly out of the Inn and to the stable to pick up their horses and ponies. Then down the road they went, each step kicking up eddies of snow along the way. He led the troop in his wagon, its great iron-banded wheels making ruts in the snowy road for Hobbit feet. And when one or another grew tired or too cold, he invited them up to ride in the back of the wagon for a while, where they could snuggle beneath the piles of burlap bags and warm up.

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[dragoneyes]

Hal trudged along, "this is not a good way to start the morning" he thought. Hal had been the last person to get up that morning and so had only had a quick breakfast, he was grateful for the rest he'd got though, looking around, not everyone had been as lucky as him.

Hal soon found himself wishing for the warmth and comfort of the inn, his feet were frozen and numb. The view was white, white as far as the eye could see, Hal looked down at his feet and stumbled on.

"I-I'm f-f-freezing" said a shivering Gaddy beside him. Gaddy was up to his knees in snow, even though he was swaddled in his thick cloak his lips were still blue and he was dropping behind, they were already at the back of the group.
"Do you want to go up with Bullroarer on his cart?" asked Daisy, seeing Gaddy's cold face.
"Y-yes p-please." he said trying not to shiver and giving Daisy a small smile.

"Hey Bullroarer!" called Hal, "We've got another one for your cart!"
"Bring them up here then!" Bullroarer called back. Hal plucked up Gaddy out of the snow and carried him up to the front of the group where Bullroarer was, he placed Gaddy down on the back of the cart while it was trundling along. Gaddy immediately seemed to get some of his usual life back and delved under the bags and supplies, burying himself so only his face showed.
"Just don't lose yourself in there." said Hal,
"I'll try not to." said Gaddy smiling his usual cheeky little smile, his face already regaining some of it's colour.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy looked at Gaddy in the back of the cart and decided that she was just to cold to keep walking, so she climbed up into the cart. Gaddy moved over to make room for her. She sat down and started to cover up when her hand brushed up against something. It was long and hard like a stick but felt slimy and gooey. Daisy didn’t want to look at it so she just moved away from it and didn’t say anything to Gaddy about it.

After covering up, Daisy looked around the surrounding area. There were a few bare trees bending violently with the hard blowing wind. The farm houses in the out lying areas could barely be seen as they were covered by huge snow drifts. The only signs of life seemed to be that of their own. Nothing was moving, and it made the whole place very eerie. At the same time Daisy’s hair on the back of her neck was standing up but she couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was all those stories she had heard at the inn about wargs being heard and seen in the Shire. She just had a feeling that they were being watched as they trudged along the road to Whitfurrows.

Daisy was feeling a little warmer and decided that it was time to give someone else the chance to get in the cart and warm up. She looked out at the group and saw that Robin and Daffodyl were looking a bit on the frozen side. She motioned Gaddy to get down at the same time that she did, and then they helped the two female hobbits up onto the cart. Instantly Daisy wished that she could have stayed in her uncle’s cart. Her feet hit the snow and all of the cold went right to her bones again, but she knew that everyone needed to spend a little time huddled in the back of the cart if they were going to make it to Rivendell.

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC: Will erase later. Alk, please put your post after mine. Don't return to the group yet. Just describe what you see on the road. We need a bit more time for folk to respond t the threat below.
---------------------------------------------

They had been pushing on for several hours, but had only managed to cover about four miles. Several times, the wagon slid sideways into one of the tall snowbanks, and had to be dug out by cold and tired hobbits who used whatever tools they happened to have brought along in their packs.

Bandobras berated himself for not taking more shovels with him. The three that he'd brought from home were not going to be enough. Perhaps, they'd manage to find some to buy in one of the villages along their route.

By mid-afternoon they'd managed to cover another few miles. If all went well, they should manage to reach Whitfurrows before nightfall, and still have time to send that fishing party north to the Water. Bullroarer hoped that their scouts were doing as well.

"Let's break for lunch," Bullroarer cried over the howl of the wind. "Start a fire over there." He pointed towards a spot underneath a protected cliff overhang. Several in the party ran to get a large tarp out of the wagon to hang it down from one side of the small ledge so that there'd be more protection from the snow and blustering gusts.

Emerald, Gaddy, and Daffodyl volunteered to collect some branches to start a fire. The three wandered off in the direction of a small wooded area that stood about 200 paces north of the road. After they'd been gone about ten minutes, Bullroarer noted with some nervousness that their weapons had all been left behind, neatly stacked under the cliff overhang.

The hobbit shook his head in dismay. He'd have to talk to everyone about that. There should be no going off from the main group without making sure to bring weapons. You never knew what might happen.

Hobbits began rummaging through their sacks to find something they could put together for lunch. But before anyone could get very far, a horrible noise issued from the direction of the wooded copse.

"What's that", Branda blurted out.

"It's howling. Maybe the wargs have come." Dinadas ventured wih fear in his eyes.

Bullroarer turned to face the group. "Whatever it is, we need to find out, and fast. Grab your weapons. Now!"

Bullroarer took off at a dead run in the direction of the hideous sounds. The howling and barking seemed to grow louder every second, as the hobbit's legs pounded back and forth on the ground. Most of the company followed just behind. Branda had managed to mount Sandy but the horse was having trouble maintaining balance on the slick ice crusts.

Just as they reached the tall trees, Bullroarer peered ahead and stared aghast at the scene before him. At least there were no wargs to be seen. Instead, there was a pack of some ten to twelve dogs surrounding the three woodgatherers. They had made a tight circle, drawing in closer and closer. Once, these may have been ordinary farmdogs, but they had turned wild and, were now driven only by hunger. They smelled the scent of fresh food, and hungered almost to starvation, they surrounded their prey, eager to pounce.

Bullroarer turned to those behind him, "Now, attack, come forward. Or our companions will die!"

[piosenniel]

It made no difference that these had once been good, working farm dogs. They were now wild, savage beasts who lived by their strength and cunning. Even as Bullroarer was rushing in amongst them, clearing a swath with his thick cudgel, the dogs split into groups and began to separate the woodgatherers one from the other, herding them away from their defenders.

Nearest to the advancing line of armed Hobbits were the Gaddy and then Daffodyl, both being harried and having legs bitten by the three dogs each that now attacked them.

Emerald, her eyes wide with horror and her arms still clutching the firewood she had gathered, was pushed the farthest from the defenders, and they heard her screams as the dogs bore her down . . .

[ December 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Alkanoonion]

The Inn yard slowly gave way to frozen landscape, as Carl and his pony made their way North towards the Brandywine. The snow on the road by now was waist deep in places and the wind was sapping what strength he and his pony had. After an hour of travelling in the wind and snow, which had abated only slightly, Carl and his pony sought shelter against a larger tree.

Taking out his canteen Carl went to drink but soon discovered that the water had frozen solid in the cold. Remembering a trick that his father had taught him Carl leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow and put it in his mouth letting the warmth from his mouth melt the snow so that he could drink. Looking about Carl studied his surroundings.

To his left was a dense frozen forest, which looked like it had been created out of some madman’s dreams. Carl did not know how to describe what he saw except that it looked like the trees were trying to escape from the wind and snow, flailing there branches madly from side to side only to entangle together leaving themselves trapped, so that now they could only shudder with the torture placed on their limbs.

Not very inviting thought Carl. Looking to his right the trees looked a little better as the trees seemed to invite Carl and his pony to take shelter. Once more mounting his pony the pair left the road seeking the shelter of these trees. The snow was less deep and the frozen trees provided a Modicum of protection from the cutting effect of the wind and ice on his raw face. The wind and snow was also less built up which made travel for his pony easier. Heading north through the day Carl continued to study the landscape taking in all details and looking for signs of and Wargs or wolves.

By now the snow had dissipated and the pair only had to worry about the cold wind which while not a gale was still terribly chilling. With out the gale and snow the pair made good time and by midday they had almost reached the Brandywine.
They were heading into the wind when Carls pony shed to the left and started to tremble. In the distance a wolf’s sorrowful howl could be herd. Getting off his pony, Carl tied her to a tree stump and laying a comforting hand on her nose he slowly made his way upwind.

Slowly drawing his bow from across his back he preceded to nock an arrow, but being mindful of the warning he had received, he made sure that he would not be seen. Carl was an expert at tracking and so it was no effort for him to locate the source of the noise.
It was a sorrowful creature that he found, a female wolf that had been trapped in a snare and abandoned by its pack. She had half chewed her leg off to get out of the snare and would shortly die. Feeling his stomach tighten with pity Carl slowly approached the wolf. She could see him, but she did not struggle.
As Carl approach the trapped animal, he felt himself compelled to seek out the creatures gaze. To stare into a wild creatures eye was to issue a challenge, a way of seeking superiority over it. However, when Carl looked deep into the amber depths of this beauty he only received a weak grow of protest before the creature resigned itself to the mans actions. She returned his look bravely.

He could see her struggle to match his look and keep her eyes open. She was tired. Tired from the cold and the pain, but beneath the fatigue was something else. It was something that touched Carl more than the presence of the blood and crippling injury. Within her eyes was not just the physical pain but also the pain of knowing that her pack has deserted her. Not just her pack, but also her life long mate and the children they had reared and cared for. She knew she was going to die all alone.
As Carl looked into her amber eyes he knew this Knowledge to be true, for Carl was drawing this knowledge not only from the instincts of a compassionate being but from the knowledge all forest creatures drew from, instinct.
Carl was instinctively a creature of the forest. He had to be. It was how he survived. It was what he was brought up to be and how he lived. This was what he was taught by his father and from his fathers father and he hoped that one day he would be able to teach this knowledge to his own children. With these thoughts fixed in his mind Carl knew what he had to do.
She did not fight or resist him, for Carl believed she knew what he was going to do. She looked at him with a silent pleading that was heart breaking for it was not a desperate plea but a dignified one, as to be release from a terrible pain. There was also a grain of hope. To die at the hands of another being was to not die alone. With a tear in his eye Carl took aim with his bow and put the majestic and tragic animal to rest.

Still weeping for the brave animal Carl started the preparation of burring the animal. He wished he could lite a fire to soften the frozen ground but he knew this would betray his presence in the woods. Rather he berried her beneath the ice knowing too well that the body would be scratch out by scavengers, but he could not stop himself. He felt empathy for the poor animal, admired her. She had been a wolf, not the evil Wargs but a forest wolf. They were different for they were the true hunters. Not only had Carls family learned from them, but so had Carl; he had studied them for many a long hour when he had been a boy, to learn the Wild arts. This was way, despite the uselessness of the task Carl continued to burry her. It was his way of paying respect.

Having done all that he could for the she wolf, Carl returned to his pony. He noticed that it had grown late he made for the accommodations in Whitfurrows.

To report no sing of danger from the north except a dead wolf. Racing back to the Whitfurrows Carl did not hear the howls that followed him.

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl shot a quick glance to Emerald, who was knocked to the ground. She tried to yell her name, but the wind overtook her voice.

"Help! Help Emerald! Help us!" She yelled at the group, whom she could barely see through the strengthening snow. They were almost just shadows in the snow.

Her legs were starting to hurt badly with the scratching and biting at them. She kicked at the dogs, and one took a deep bite into her foot. She screamed with pain. She took the sticks out of her arms and started to poke the dogs ferociously, towards their eyes and throats. One retreated with a few teeth knocked out. The other two let out a deep growl in their throats.

"Please! Bullroarer! Branda! Hal! Gaddy! Dinodas! HELP!" She hit the top of one of the dog’s heads, who had jumped at her face. Its claws ripped between her eyes, and her face went hot with pain. Another dog bit into almost the same spot on her foot as the first one, and she bit her lip until it bled. I do not wish to die like this, she thought to herself, as she yelled for help from the other hobbits.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda clung tenaciously to the back of his pony as she haltingly made her way over to the copse, slipping and sliding on the treacherous ice crusts. By the time they'd reached the clearing, Bullroarer and the others were already thrusting boldly at their attackers.

Branda's first thought was to try and maneuver his pony towards the fallen Emerald and carry her off to the protection of the wagon. There, he could examine her and see if there was anything he could do. But there was no way he could get through the circle of howling dogs that stood directly in his path.

He jerked the reins sideways and veered over in Daffodyl's direction. The girl had only two large beasts slavering over her. Both had fixed their teeth in her clothing, and were slowly tugging her downward to the ice.

Sensing and smelling the approach of the pony, the two dogs backed off their original target and turned about to face this new threat. They immediately took the offensive, darting in and out, slashing and snarling at Sandy's hocks.

The pony's ears went flat back. A simple carthorse, she was both bewildered and enraged at the animals' attacks. Of her own accord, she reared up, her eyes wide with terror and nostrils distended. Kicking out with two hind legs, Sandy sent one of the dogs flying through the air, coming to land on a jagged rock that stood up above the snowline. The creature lay still and did not move.

Almost immediately, in the middle of this melee, the hobbit found himself bucked off Sandy's back, hitting the ground with a thump and rolling over beside Daffodyl. In their momentary rage over the pony, the dogs had forgotten their main target and left the girl unguarded. Branda swiftly scooped her up in his arms and raced off towards the wagon, half carrying and half dragging Daffodyl over the rugged terrain.

Out of the corner of his eye, Branda caught a glimpse of several things. First, there was his pony, flailing and kicking, then runing back to the shelter of their temporary campsite. With the dogs' mad dash after Sandy, the pathway to Emerald had magically cleared. Lotho had run forward to help the girl and was already carrying her to safety.

In response to the rescues, Bullroarer bellowed, "After them! Someone help Gaddy. And don't let any get away. Otherwise, they'll be attacking some poor farmer's daughter by nightfall."

[ December 05, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Lotho had been frozen with shock, and jerked back to his senses at Branda's frantic yells. He swiftly drew out his knife and raced towards Emerald. He could hear a dog snuffling at his feet; he felt its hot breath on his ankle. He furiously whipped around and slashed at the dog, which fell back with a whimper.

Emerald was lying face down in the snow.

Lotho let out a strangled yell and quicly turned her over. Her face was a greenish colour; drained of blood. He hoisted her up over his shoulders and tried to run as fast as he could: he didn't know where...just a place where they could be safe.

Blood roared in his ears and his throat was dry. He was starting to tire.. wait! There was the road! He forced himself to go on and gently lay the young hobbit beside it. He jerked as he suddenly remembered the sound of a pleading voice- a female voice. The image of a distressed young hobbit came into his mind.

Daffodyl! He had left her! He couldn't go back now. He hoped against hope that one of the others had managed to rescue her. Heart pounding madly, he looked at the hobbit lying absolutely still. He laid an ear to her mouth, and was very slightly reassured to hear faint breathing. He could do nothing more but wait for the attack to cease and for the rest of the party to regroup.

[dragoneyes]

Gaddy fought against the three dogs now surrounding him. The dogs had pounced so quickly, there had been no time to react. Luckily Gaddy had managed to keep hold of a nice long stick and he was trying to fend the dogs off with it.

One dog advanced on him and Gaddy hit it hard on the nose, it retreated but Gaddy still had no rest another dog behind him lashed out at him and caught him round the leg. He just had time to turn and hit that one when the third had it's go at him, it took several swipes to deter it.

Gaddy was tired and scared, his legs were numb with cold and pain, he was deaf to the others' calls. He was twisting and turning, this way and that, trying to anticipate what the dogs were going to do next.

He was becoming thoroughly exhausted, with barely enough energy to dodge the dog's attacks.

Suddenly one of the dogs yelped and jumped, it turned and was faced with one oncoming stone, it's aim was true and killed the dog in an instant. Gaddy stood dazed an confused at this dog's behaviour when one of the other dogs pounced on him, pinning him to the ground. The dog snarled at him but then fell limp.

Gaddy was underneath the dog, and he just lay there, too tired to do anything about it, he let the dog's dead body warm him. His mind wandered back to his home where his mother, father and all his family were welcoming him back, the warm sun was out and the fields were green, the trees gently rustling their leaves in the wind.

The dog's weight was lifted from Gaddy's body, he looked up and there was Hal's worried face, Gaddy looked into Hal's eyes and smiled weakly.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda momentarily collapsed in a heap of exhaustion after reaching the roadway, with the hobbit Daffodyl still in his arms. Lotho had made the site first and was trying to lift Emerald out of the snow and cold into the only shelter they had, that of the wagon. In the distance, Branda could see a tired and limping Gaddy leaning against his friend Hal, trotting away from the dog pack as quickly as they could manage. The other hobbits were with Bullroarer, fighting off the still crazed beasts.

Branda took a moment to gasp for air, and then helped Lotho lift Emerald and Daisy into the wagon. Hal arrived just a minute later, vehemently insisting he was fine. Branda imperiously brandished a finger in Hal's face, sternly warning him to get into the wagon to be checked out and that, since he was a healer, he'd be the judge of just how fine Hal was!

[ December 05, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer called to mind the image of Golfimbul, the Orc King, at the Battle of the Greenfields. A likeness of Golfimbul's face replaced the snouts and bared teeth of the ravening dogs.

An air of calmness settled about him, and he pushed forward through the mad and slavering canine throng, swinging his club with deadly precision. Bloodied heads went flying, almost as in a game . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Robin heard screams through the blinding snow. She could not see anything except blurry shapes moving. She could barely hear Dinodas shouting something, probably to her. She fumbled around at her back, trying to find her quiver, but it was still with Gil-Galad. Scrambling around, shouting, she tried to find the pony, and suddenly her hand brushed against something furry. But it wasn't Gil-Galad. She heard a snarl and then felt a burning pain in her hand. She cried out and jumped back, tripping and landing in the snow, which turned red with blood. Trying to fight the pain, she shouted weakly for help, but no answer came.

Dinodas fit an arrow to his bow. He spotted a dark shape moving towards him and heard a snarling. Quick as a flash, he let the arrow fly, and with satisfaction heard a yelp and saw the figure collapse in the snow.

There was a growling directly behind him. He picked up his club where he had laid it next to him and whirled around, swing down at the same time. There was a thud and the figure behind him dropped. Seeing more of the vicious dogs advancing, he tossed his club aside and once again turned to his bow. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and took careful aim. Yet when he fired, the arrow missed.

"I had better be careful," he muttered, drawing another arrow. "An arrow gone astray could hurt an ally."

Soon he found himself run out of arrows, but still the dogs were coming. So he turned to where his club was. The only problem was that it wasn't. With a cry he fell to his knees and started digging frantically in the snow, searching in vain. He heard a movement behind him and he whirled around, preparing for an attack. A shadowy shape sprang at him and he felt something furry and wet land on top of him, and could feel warm breath go down his neck. There was a growling noise in his ear as he rolled over, but the shape fell off him, springing up again at once for another attack.

Robin heard a noise in her ear and felt something breathing on her. To weak to cry out, she slowly turned and found herself face to face with Gil-Galad. "Gil," she whispered, reaching her good arm up to stroke his nose. "Go to Dinodas, please. Go/"

Gil began making his way through the deep snow, every so often turning back to make sure his mistress was still there. Then he vanished in the whirling blizzard, and all went black for Robin.

Dinodas jumped to his feet and kicked at the dog, trying to discourage it and make it move away. But he only succeeded in infuriating it more. It was hungry and it wanted food. There was food in front of its face, and it would not let its prey go so easily.

Dinodas heard a whinny close by, and shouted, "Gil!" When the pony came into view the dog spotted him and began jumping at his legs, snarling. He began spooking and jumped to one side. He reared and the dog moved forward. Dinodas watched in half horror as Gil's hard hooves landed on the dog's head. It wasn't a very pleasant site.

When Gil realized the vicious creature was dead, he proceeded on with his business, coming over to Dinodas. The hobbit lad spotted Robin's bow and quiver and unhooked them from the saddlebag, flipping an arrow from the quiver as he did so. Fitting it to his own bow, he prepared for another attack of dogs.

But they never came. Perhaps they had all been killed, perhaps they had all run away, or perhaps they were attacking the other members of the group. Returning the arrow to its quiver, Dinodas looked around for Robin, but did not see her. Gil-Galad was trotting the best he could in the deep snow away. Dinodas could still hear the screams, and suddenly he was presented with the choice of either going to Robin or helping the rest of the company. He chose the latter.

Robin rolled onto her back and opened her eyes very slowly. The blizzard was whistling over her head, and she was half buried in the snow. Gil was standing over her. Hadn't he gone to Dinodas with the bow? A faint smile touched her lips. He had. Both the bow and quiver were gone.

Robin was so numb that she didn't feel the pain in her arm. Desperately she tried to get to her feet and mount Gil-Galad, but she only managed to struggle to her knees, and that small feat left her panting for breath. "Gil, you're too tall for me now," she said hoarsely. "I can't get that high."

Gil almost seemed to understand her, for, if you'll believe it, he suddenly bent his legs and went down. Robin stared in amazement for a moment, then dragged herself towards the pony. She had to find help or she'd die from cold. She was also losing much blood from her wound. Grasping his mane in her good hand, she slowly heaved herself onto his back and into a riding position among all the baggage. Ever so slowly, he came to his feet, Robin clinging to his mane and desperately hoping he wouldn't slip on the snow while trying to stand up. Then he was standing fully. He began walking through the snow towards the rest of the company, and Robin fell forward onto his neck.

Dinodas could hear something tramping through the snow behind him as he made his way towards the figures fighting in front of him. He whirled around, and saw a large shape walking towards him. As the shape drew closer Dinodas realized it was Gil. And then he saw what the pony was carrying.

"Robin!" he cried, running forward. He gently lifted the hobbit lass off her pony and saw her arm.

"Hello, Dinodas," Robin said weakly, a smile coming to her pale face.

"Don't you dare die, Robin Brandybuck," Dinodas said, still holding her in his arms.

"I'm not going to die, Dinodas," Robin said. "Not yet. They still need me back home. They're expecting the food." Then her head fell back.

"She's still alive," Dinodas whispered to himself. "We need a healer. Who was it? Branda? Branda! BRANDA!" He began screaming the name as he struggled towards the company, holding the limp hobbit lass in his arms.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn trugded on through the deep snow on the road. She was freezing and she could barely feel her legs. Pulling on the rope that tied her and Giles together, they had been afraid that they would loose one another during the snow storm , so they had tied a rope around their legs, attaching one another together, Autumn sank down to the ground.

When Giles walked back to her, he saw Autumn sitting curled up on top of a pile of snow. Her legs were covered with snow, her lips were blue, and her teeth were chattering loudly. "Do you think that we could stop for a bit, Giles, to warm up and all?" asked a frozen Autumn. Giles nodded, and so the two hobbits gathered wood, and built a small fire.

Sice their water canteens were empty, they put some snow in a pan and melted it by the fire. Then they poured the water into their canteens. Taking some bread from their packs, Giles and Autumn ate a light, hurried meal. The hobbits then packed on and made their way once again through the deep snow on the ground. Snow began to fall once again, and Autumn pulled her thickest winter coat further around her.

After another mile or so, Autumn wanted to ask Giles if they could stop once again. But, she wanted to appear brave enough to continue on without complaining. Biting her lip, Autumn continued to trudge on, so intent on where she was going that she did not hear the howls of dogs far behind her, and the screaming of scared hobbits.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda scrambled frantically to try and tend to all the injured hobbits. He had no idea what was happening with Bullroarer and the others who were still out fighting the dogs. His attention was rivetted to those who lay before him.

Branda quickly acknowledged that there was no way he could handle four wounded hobbits totally by himself. He'd asked Dinodas to come join him and tend to those less seriously hurt. Having someone to do the simple bandaging, and even to bring food and water to the wounded, was a tremendous help.

Gaddy was indeed in the best shape, with only a few minor leg wounds. Robin and Daffodyl had more serious cuts and slashes, both on their bodies and faces. Robin also seemed to be in a shocked and dazed state. Yet, even here, with a little luck and a good rest, Branda was fairly certain both girls would pull through.

It was Emerald who most worried him. He spent the lion's share of his time with her. The girl had lost so much blood that she was as pale as the snows of winter, her body as cold as the ground on which she lay. She had grievous wounds on her body and head.

At Branda's direction, Dinodas built a blazing fire under the ledge of the cliff, hanging additional tarps to hold out the most bitter weather. Then, the Stoor took some of his most precious herb, called Kingsfoil or athelas, crushing and boiling its leaves with the snow water. He applied this tincture to the wounds of the hobbits, and decided to place their bodies close to the campfire, since it was warmer there than in the wagon. He wrapped Emerald in several blankets, and placed hot stones, also sealed inside a thin leather pouch near her body in an effort to drive the chill away.

There was no question that they would have to stay here for the night. The scouts who'd gone ahead would have no idea what had happened to the main party. That was unfortunate. But to push on at this moment would mean certain death for Emerald, as well as to increase the risk for Robin and even Daffodyl. No matter what Carl, or Giles, or Autumn thought, they did not dare to leave immediately.

Branda feared that tonight would be the critical point for Emerald, the time that would decide whether the girl lived or died. He felt a shudder run through his body as he looked upon her sweet young face. My own daughter Peony will look like this one day. Let my hands be skilled to save her and return her safe to her kin.

[piosenniel]

Of the twelve dogs, there were now nine still bodies sprawled on the snow. Gaddy had dispatched one with his stone, and Dinodas two with his bow and club. Sandy and Gil, the two doughty ponies, had taken out one each with their hooves. Bullroarer had brought down four of the mad beasts with his now bloodied club.

He called for the Hobbits to retreat toward Branda. The three remaining dogs followed desperately behind them, hoping to bring down just one of them. Bullroarer, bringing up the rear of the retreat, took his club and advanced upon the pursuers. They darted in at his legs, slashing them with their teeth, but their bite found no purchase as he stepped away from them deftly and swung his club down hard.

Two more lay dead on the now reddened snow. And now a tired Hobbit faced a tired dog made desperate by the loss of its pack and prey. With nothing to lose, it threw itself again and again against the now retreating Hobbit. With on last leap, it launched itself into the air, straight at the face of Bullroarer.

He stepped aside, though not quickly enough to elude the furred missile entirely. It caught him on the left shoulder blade, burying its teeth deep into the folds of the Hobbit's cloak and throwing him backward onto the ground. The large thick fingers of Bullroarer wound their way about the creature's throat, and he heard the gurgle as he crushed its windpipe and the snap as he broke its neck.

Pushing the limp body of his assailant from him, he lay back on the snow, breathing raggedly. 'An even dozen dead!' he thought to himself. Then darkness took him . . .

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl awoke lying on her back next to the warm fire. Gaddy sat closest to her, and Hal was sitting next to him. Gaddy had Emerald beside him. "They all survived, but where are the others?" she said to herself.

Her face hurt severely, where the massive beast had scratched her. She painfully sat up. She had cuts all over her arms and legs, and most of them were still bleeding. Her foot had a simple bandage around it, but spots of it were soaked in the blood that was seeping through. She looked at Emerald, who was bundled up completely very near to the fire. Her face was as white as the snow they were sitting on. She could see that Emerald’s lower jaw was shaking, but not very quickly. ‘At least she is still alive,’ she thought.

She looked around, and saw Branda walk back in from under the tarp. "Oh bless you Dafodyl! You’re awake!" He yelled with excitement as her approached her. "That was a mighty encounter with those dogs that you had. Bullroarer and the rest are on their was here now. Get some rest."

He started to gently push her down, but she blurted out, "What about Emerald?" She looked sadly to him.

He sighed, and said slowly: "Well, I am going to try to heal her, but I do not know if it is to late or not. We can only hope for the best."

[ December 08, 2002: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]