The Yule Log RPG

[Tevildo]

It was not the strange words of the two-leggeds that wakened Tevildo, nor the ocean of darkness that had by now masked the forest floor. He slept on, curled in a tight ball at the bottom of the satchel, seemingly oblivious to the dense cloud of fear that encircled their heads in this small piece of Arda. Tevildo had lived too long in the fortress of Melkor. Although cats are not natural agents of evil, their fëar have often been blighted by living constantly near shadows so that Tevildo, like many of his kindred, was no longer able to sniff out the right from the wrong as quickly and boldly as his two hosts had done.

Still. in his heart, Tevildo was all cat, the bad and the good intermingled, a creature of grace and beauty who faithfully followed the instincts that had been planted in his heart when the music of creation was sung. And those instincts were still quite strong. Predictably then, the slobbering and soft yips of the hound were what roused him from the bottom of the satchel. He pushed his head up and peered outside. He did not like the shadow creature. Yet he was singularly exempt from the fear that held sway over the dog and the two-leggeds. It was simply not in his nature to be afraid of shadows. They are too much a part of any cat's world.

What unsettled him most was the dog. Where had that dratted animal come from? For one moment, Tevildo considered defecting to the opposition. He had done that on more than one occasion when the odds did not look terribly good. At least, the shadow thing had enough sense not to bring a dog with him. And in all his many lives, Tevildo had never agreed to work in tandem with any hound. But the hard memory of what the torturer had done to his young kinsmen and the realization that the shadow creature had become even more demented in the intervening years made him reluctant to switch sides.

For now, he decided, he would remain tucked in the pack, but keep a close eye on the situation. Mori and Stamo could perhaps handle things on their own as long as the dog did not stupidly get in their way. If events deteriorated and the shadow thing threatened to devour them, he could emerge from his hideaway and throw his expertise as a creature of semi-darkness against Melkor's old servant. Tevildo was so calm that not even his fur stood on end. Poking his head out, he surveyed the surrounding landscape with the calm eyes of a hunter, while all the while his tail flicked menacingly back and forth inside the confines of the small satchel.

[Undómë]

An unearthly silence fell about The Green Man, indeed about the little village itself. It was not that those who dwelt there nor their animals nor even those structures themselves whose unloosed shutters banged against the wooden sides of the houses had suddenly gone still, become quiet. It was that sound itself seemed sucked from the little region which lay outside the forest.

The harmonies of ordinary lives were disrupted, the music broken. And all the little notes, inflections, refrains, the measures, and their resonance now flew through the empty air . . . tumbling over one another as they fell forward toward the awful vacuum of the creature’s bloated presence.

In the common room, a sudden backdraft from the chimney made the fire burn low, nearly down to the glowing embers, and even those were threatening to go out. Old Goody bade Willem throw open the shutters for a moment as she pushed and pulled on the damper handle.

‘Now throw on some of those shavings and that little pile of kindling, lad,’ she directed him as he ran back to help her. ‘And pile the rowan and holly ‘pon it as well!’

Breaths were held and even the beat of hearts seemed to pause as the Halfling’s and the old woman’s attentions were focused on the fire . . .

[Arry]

Willem found himself crossing his fingers behind his back as the flames drew down lower and lower into the embers. He’d piled on the shavings and stacked the kindling just so. Over it all the holly and the slender rowan branches had been placed, all at the nodding of Goody.

‘Please, please, please . . .’ he found himself whispering. Just as he had done those years past when he was a little boy wanting something to turn our right. ‘If I never get another thing,’ he mouthed toward the fireplace, as if his request might fly up the chimney with the smoke, ‘then let this be the one thing.’ He closed his eyes and wished again, and then once more.

Third time’s the charm . . .

He could remember his Gran saying that. And as the last of his little vows left his lips, he leveraged open one eye.

Willem gasped as the first fingers of flame poked up through the piled wood. They wrapped themselves about the curled shavings, the slender limbs, and crushed them greedily in their scorched fists. At the heart of the log, the embers began to glow and waver in the increasing heat.

‘The Yule Log, Granny! It’s going to be alright now. All of it . . .’

The Hobbit uncrossed his fingers, bringing his hands round in front of him. He rubbed them carefully, working the numbness and tingling from them as the blood coursed through them now without hindrance.

‘Going to be alright, now . . .’

[Rose]

He strained his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness as it rolled up and round them. How was he to face an enemy if he couldn’t catch sight of him? He looked up at the men. They seemed to be concentrating on something.

Was their eyesight better than his? Perhaps so, His father told him they were more than men, really. But since he had nothing by which to judge that, having known only those two-leggeds at the inn, he could not say one way or the other.

His father, too, had told him the old stories. Of the great hounds that had ridden with the Hunter in those long gone days; following the call of his sky splitting horn, running hard, their red tongues lolling over great, sharp teeth as they pursued the shadow creatures. The Hunter loved his hounds, his father had said.

No, the Hunter loves his hounds. That’s what he had said.

White Paw looked up at his companions, alert to any signals they might give him. At this moment, in this time, they were his pack members. Where they led, he would follow; what they asked he would do. His nose, teeth, speed, and cunning – all in the service of the pack.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest. He stood stiff legged, hackles raised. Waiting…..

[Undómë]

Goody turned her head toward the Halfling as he whispered his plea. And saw the look of relief as the flames took hold and the embers brightened. ‘Be careful with your charms and words, Master Willem. The fire that turns the year feeds on such little vowings and remembers, even if you do not.’

She smiled fondly at him. ‘Still, ‘twas said with a generous heart. For all of us. We thank you.’

The old woman turned back to the fire. Her face seemed more tired and worn. Hot as they were now, the flames did not seem to warm her, but instead seemed to draw out her little store of energy. Leeching her until she seemed almost translucent; the shadowings of her bones moving or still beneath her pale, drawn skin her only solidness.

She too whispered low as the embers flickered and shifted in their dance of renewal.

Hunter, Rider . . .
Lord of Trees, Master of Hounds . . .
Winter’s Lord, Woodland Spirit . . .
We smaller spirits call to you

Speed now to us on silver shod with gold
And recall some pity for us in our need.

[Nerindel]

Arato

Within the swell of growing darkness another shadow stalked, moving soundlessly between the great towering trees that crammed the valley’s lower slopes. Intent and filled with purpose it moved cautiously shadowing the creature as it lustfully advanced on a prey of it's own. A low earthy hum emanated in his mind, intricately, but subtly blending with the harmonies of the world to shadow his advance from this thing, this dangerous and evil thing! He could no longer in his bitterness name it, no it had forsaken that path long ago and could not turn back, the light of Illuvatar long forgotten, choked and smothered by the soul consuming seed of…. Melekor! Gah! That Name it burned acrid in his mind igniting an anger and hatred of ages past.

But this was not the corrupter no he had seen the dark one banish beyond the doors of night, been part of that very battle, Assailed by dark twisted defilements of his masters creations, orc, troll, dragon he slew them all, but not before one had taken a part of him too! His hand reminiscently traced the lines of the triple scar that marked his left cheek from just below the eye to below his right shoulder. The foolish easily corrupted, he snorted, determinedly suppressing the rage that threatened to boil over into heedless recklessness.

But no less dangerous! he sighed wearily, bending once more to study the marking of this things passage. Snow melted and grasses became dry and course in it’s wake, even the trees did not miss the malice of its ill content. Bark dry and brittle crumbled in his gloved hand, pine needles blanched, plighted by the poison of its passage. Blue eyes narrowed beneath the dark hood of his cloak, it was close he could feel it, sense its lust… its hunger!

Carefully he drew forth Mandur’mak, it’s dark surface would have made it near invisible in the darkness if not for the fine veins of silver, gold and even Mithril that ran through its polished surface, giving it an almost earthy look… like it had been drawn and moulded from the heart of some deep dark mountain.

As he drew close he was stopped by a sudden change in the subtle music of the world, he froze listening intently, recognising the subtle power being employed , his eyes narrowed as ahead he saw a soft light, in which two men… no not men though they wore that mantle, stood warding off this creatures attempt to drive fear into their souls. He grinned recognising the two strangers from the Green man and finally realising who and what they really were he stepped back. Watching and wondering what the creature would do once it realised it’s folly.

It will want to get stronger.. It will want to feast on those weaker than itself! The village! The Inn! he thought at once.

He had been in the stables of the green man that very morning, he had witnessed the shape shifters terrified return.

"Help me!" Wenda had muttered. "It's hunting me! It's coming! It's coming!"

He had know at once of what she spoke for he had not forgotten her recount the previous morning of her first encounter with this thing, in fact it was the very reason he had been in the stable enquiring after a horse. Fully intent to ride north to discover this thing for himself. He had intended to tell Mara of his departure, but the young shape shifters return had hastened his decision and he had left at once through the rear of the stable so as not to be seen. He had headed north through the forest then climbing into the lower hills of the mountain, he found a low shelf where he could see anything that entered the valley.

He had seen it come, or more over he had felt it within the hunkering almost lifeless form of one of the children of Illuvatar, Someone from the northern village Wenda had spoke of? he shuddered at the sight… at the defilement and then left his perch and had been following the creature ever since hoping to find some weakness that he could exploit.

But now realising that the village, The Green man, Wenda, Mara and the others were in danger he fully intended to place himself between them and this thing, so keeping to the shadows and employing the subtle tones that tied him to his surroundings masking his presence he moved to put himself between the creature and the village, rough oaken staff in one hand and Mandur’mak in the other he waited ready to strike.

[littlemanpoet]

There they were. He could smell the strength of their souls. He was so, so hungry! It had been too long since he had feasted on such delectable fare. They stood before him as if sheep before the slaughterer. Oh no, they would not go under the knife of his kindness so gently. Not so quietly, not these. There was much teasing and spicing to be done with these two. Two! Ah, the pleasure!

What was this?

Two staves raised and placed tall in warding. It stung. No matter, merely the bite of an insect to one so deadly as himself. Hands raised, palms outward in warding. They barbed. That was annoying, as a stick hitting him in the face. No prisoners ever dared! Angered, he welled toward them. Syllables silently spoken, issuing sussurations of strength and wellness. They nicked! .... like pieces of metal tied into a whip! There were too many syllables! Too many little nicks, like a swarm of hornets. He flailed against them. Now the whispering gave away to spoken word. Louder, louder! The swarm grew and strengthened into darts flung against him. They were too strong! The darts had turned into myriad points of power in a woven spell that bound him in, cutting off all escape.

No! It could not be!

How could they have become so strong? Stronger than he? No.... they had not become stronger, he realized of a sudden; so long he had lain in his prison of stone, so long had he shrunk in upon himself, hungry, starving, not feeding upon the rich fare of his lord. He had been weakened.

Now he was in danger, for these two were strong! It was not fair! They had no right to attack him when he was so weak!

I must pull away! Pull away!

He was surrounded. No! He must not be imprisoned again! He pulled back, wrenched against the binding, against the stinging points of power.

NO! I will be free!!

With a ghastly tearing, he had flung himself beyond their words; but at a cost. He had had to leave much of his strength tied to their spell words. He fled.

Where shall I go? I need to feed! The twin-souled one! And others with her now! So hungry!

He changed his course and flew through the darkness of the trees - a fearsome shadow before which the beasts cowered in their nightly rounds - across the darksome plains toward a tree-soul, a woman-soul, a few animals, and the twin-souled one. Famished, he sped on.

[Nerindel]

Maranwe

Mara’s eye’s suddenly snapped open, wide with fear. “We must move!” she whispered hoarsely.

“What, What is it” Wenda asked wildly, Mara looked up suddenly aware that the young skin-changer knelt before her shivering, “it’s coming!” she whispered, quickly throwing off her cloak and wrapping it about Wenda’s shoulders and helping her to her feet.

There had been more to her vision much of which she did not yet understand, but what had been clear to her was that this thing had been no match for the two men from the inn and in it’s anger and frustration it was coming after them!

“Greenbeard, this shadow that hunts us, it is a danger to you! are you still willing to take us to this fir hill of yours?”

[littlemanpoet]

"Hoom now, one mustn't be hasty. A danger to me, you say?" Greenbeard strode farther up the slopes, carrying Wenda and Mara, one in each hand, the reindeer trotting behind. "Does it wield an axe?"

"No," said Mara, "it is a spirit of evil! It hungers!"

Many steps the Ent took before he answered. "There is little enough that we can do against such a one," he said at last. "We will go to my home."

The Ent said no word more. Wenda held Mara's cloak about herself tightly, shivering nonetheless. Had Mara meant Mori and Stamo? Had the wraith fled from them? Could it be that they were more than a match for it? Why then was it still free? It did not matter. It was chasing her again, and she was doomed. Of this she was sure. Ever since that moment when she had faced it far in the north, she had known. She had seen this in its eyes. There was no hope for her, and she had been a fool to think there ever was. Why had she run from the Green Man inn? She had only the will to live, deep in her bones, rendering her no different than the beasts. Half beast she was anyway. Sometimes it felt more than half.

The Ent placed her on the ground and she trotted along, keeping pace with Padu and Manu. Thinking like a beast always made it happen. Somehow she felt a little safer this way, doomed though she knew she was. Maybe she could outrun it? No. She looked up. Mara had wrapped the cloak around her shoulders again, having received it from the free hand of the Ent.

Wenda smelled it in the air. It was gaining on them.

[Rose]

The intensity of the creature’s presence had pressed in hard against the hound, despite the efforts of the two tall men. White Paw leaned against their legs for support. Like a mountain they felt to him. Rock hard and mighty in their endurance; their roots delving deep into the earth beneath them. A whirlwind, it seemed, of words swirled round him and the men, pushing back against the dark presence.

He could feel the creature’s struggle to pull back and the sudden withdrawal of it as it strove to flee from the two men. White Paw raised his muzzle and gave a long howl, as if calling the pack to gather.

With a great leap he bounded away from the men and after the creature, calling them to follow.

[Arry]

‘Did you hear that, Granny?’ Willem’s head was cocked as if straining to catch a sound from far off. ‘A howling on the wind.’

His brothers nodded their heads at his question to Old Goody. They too could hear the ghostly trailing of a far off howl. They shivered despite the warmth of the Yule blaze and drew nearer to the fireplace.

As if in answer to Willem, too, there came a keening bay from the Green Man’s back courtyard as the old hound raised up his grizzled muzzle to answer his son’s call. And from the hills came the yips and yowling of their wilder cousins as the thrill of the hunt to come was sung out . . .

[Undómë]

‘Yes,’ she said nodding her head at the flames. ‘The hounds are answering the old call. The hunt is up and rides the night.’ Goody turned her head to look at the solemn-faced Halflings. ‘They are tireless . . . and will hound the prey until ‘tis brought to bay. They never lose the scent, be it man, beast, or spirit. Over dirt and stone, through water and air they chase their quarry.

She gazed dreamily back into the fire and in a soft sing-song voice told part of a long forgotten tale . . .

When the winter winds blow and the Yule fires are lit, 'tis best to stay indoors, safely shut away from the dark paths and the wild heaths. For those who wander out by themselves during the Yule-nights may hear a sudden rustling through the tops of the trees - a rustling that might be the wind, though the rest of the wood is still.

But then the barking of dogs fills the air, fire flashing from their eyes and the hooves of the great horse strike sparks of gold and silver as he shimmers in the moonlight . . .

[Nerindel]

Arato

Arato cursed silently both in anger and confusion as he saw the creature flee in the opposite direction. For a moment he had been sure it had been snared, but then suddenly it broke free. He had raised both staff and sword ready to prevent it’s passage only to see it flee back the way it had come. It’s anger shaking the trees and renting in the air like a clap of thunder. Then with a sudden howl the dog at the two men’s feet suddenly leapt after it.

“What happened!” he called leaping out from the shadows, racing to catch up to the two Istari who had also took up persuit. “I was almost certain that if it failed here it would try for the inn and the shape shifter?”

[Envinyatar]

Stamo shook off the residual leavings of those words and actions they had done to protect themselves and their two furred companions. An echo of some few words which had but barely pierced through to him as they strove against the creature now came more clearly to the fore. ‘Did you hear?’ he asked as Mori and he strode quickly after White Paw.

Mori nodded his head, his long legs eating up the distance between them and the dog. ‘Someone remembers the old tales and ways, and called on him to come to their aid. Will he hear it on the wind or will it be lost, do you think?’

‘It matters not, I think,’ Stamo answered hurriedly. ‘Since he has sent us, we must step in as needed . . .’

An urgent voice rang out behind them. ‘What happened? I was almost certain that if it failed here it would try for the inn and the shape shifter?’ The two men stopped, waiting for Arato to catch up.

‘It was too weak to overcome us,’ Mori returned. ‘I think it will not go back toward the Inn, at least not at present. The fëar there are too little to nourish it as it needs. But I’m sure it has gone after Wenda now.’ He paused, his brow wrinkling. ‘You did not know, did you? Wenda has left the Inn, changed into her deer form and gone far into these woods. And the other woman, Maranwe, she has followed after. We were hoping to stand between them and the creature . . . to do away with the foul thing. But it would not stay to battle since the win was not assured for it.’

He looked into the thick darkness beneath the trees’ branches. ‘The two women can not stand against it. The creature will suck them dry.’ He pushed Stamo forward with his staff and motioned for Arato to come along. ‘We must find them, and soon.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

After he had finished telling the others of the danger they were in, Owl had quickly tendered his goodbyes and, stretching out his snowy wings, lept into the heavens, making his way back towards the Inn. He could do little to battle the shadow creature. Owl was under no delusions. He had neither the wits or power for such a monumental task. There was no use remaining with the Green Man or even going back to where Mori and Stamo were waiting. He had done what he could for the little wren, but duty beckoned him elsewhere.

Owl had brought the creatures to the back courtyard of the Inn on the eve of Yule to witness the burning of the Log as had been their custom for countless years. Only this time, things had played out differently. He could not help feeling some regret. In a real sense, these creatures were his responsibility. Shadow creature or no, he must make sure that his charges were safe. Owl could never have put these feelings into words, but he felt compelled to fly steadilysouthward in order to revisit the Inn and check to see if all the birds and beasts were safe.

Without the two-leggeds holding him back, Owl covered the ground quickly and soon reached the countryside where the Green Man Free House was located. His first impulse was to drop down to the roof of the Inn and call upon the animals to gather in the courtyard that he might speak with them and know that they were alright. But, as any bird of prey might do, Owl decided to make a short flight first to spy out the land and be sure that there were no unknown dangers lurking on their doorstep. Owl climbed into the air and circled the Inn two times. It was on his second round that he glimpsed a dark shadow spilling over the ground, one some ways distant; he could barely make out its grey outline, but he was sure the shadow was relentlessly advancing in the direction of the Inn. Unike the great creature of shadow that he had glimpsed earlier, this threat was at least somewhat familiar: a pack of ravenous wolves. Why they would be moving during the day and what impelled them to speed forward so quickly, Owl had no idea.

Darting in for a closer look, Owl was overwhelmed by the relentless rage and snarling jaws of the lean grey beasts. These were no ordinary wolves. He could not account for their behavior, but it was unquestionably clear that they were on a collision course with the Green Free Man Inn. His heart thumping furiously in his chest, Owl turned back to the Inn and hooted loudly, trying to convey to the men inside what he had seen. His animals had no trouble understanding what was going on. Immediately, they began crying and braying and bellowing loudly, much to the surprise of the hobbits and the others who were sheltered inside the Inn. Owl was at a loss to know what to do. None of the men seemed to understand him, yet it was imperative that he tell them how much danger they were in.....

[piosenniel]

Wren skittered up and down a low-lying branch of the old apple tree. He flapped his wings and added his piping little voice to the general melee. And yes it was partly from fear, but also from his excitement at a solution that had just come to him.

Frustrated that he could not get owl’s attention, the little bird flew to where the great bird was perched. Owl was tapping furiously at the Green Man’s shutters, trying to get the attention of those inside.

‘Owl! Owl!’ wren cried. ‘Even if they come to look at what’s making so much noise, they won’t understand you. I know where the two tall men have gone. Let me fly quickly and bring them back. Otherwise, the wolves will be upon us before the two-leggeds know what is happening.’

Owl nodded and shooed him off. He would see to the safety of the animals here while wren fetched the men.

~*~

Wren flew as fast as his little brown wings would take him. He shut his mind as best he could to the frightful feeling that crept from beneath the shadows of the trees.

When he at last found the two tall men they were with a third fellow. Wren landed on Mori's shoulder made haste to tell them what was happening. Anxious for his friends back at the Inn and anxious, too, to be out from under the shadows of the trees, he grabbed a few strands of the man's hair and began to fly off, pulling at them as he did so.

[Rose]

The old Inn hound had raised up to a sitting position from his bed of soft rags and straw, awakened by the noise of the other animals and the feeling of fear and apprehension that roiled in the air about him.

Wolves! He shook himself fully awake at the word. And they were bent on attacking The Green Man! The old fellow gave a few low barks just to warm up his throat. Then leveraging his old bones up so that he stood, he raised up his grizzled head and began to bay. Long and deep the keening sound came from him, traveling far afield.

-------

White Paw was hard on the trail of the creature. His strong legs had carried him a ways from his two companions. A sound crept its way into his focused hunt, bringing his head round to the direction from which it came. His eyes glittered in the dim light beneath the trees as he recognized it.

‘Father!’

There was danger at the Inn; his father had given the warning call.

He could not simply run back to the Inn, though, abandoning his two companions to the creature. White Paw wheeled about and ran back to where they now stood with a third man. Legs set stiffly beneath him, he barked out a warning.

[Arry]

Willem drew his chair closer to Granny, nearly huddling right up against her. He knew she was a frail old woman, but there was some sort of strength in her that gave him comfort and eased his fears.

Outside, the animals seemed in a frenzy, and one of the dogs was giving full throat to the problem. ‘What if the creature had turned toward The Green Man?’ he thought to himself, shivering on his chair. His eyes flicked to the fire, and he drew a deep breath seeing that it burned steadily.

‘Granny,’ he whispered, giving voice to his rising alarm. ‘Now what is happening?’

[Undómë]

The fire hissed and crackled along the log. Old Goody rocked back and forth on her chair, not seeming to hear the ruckus going on in the back courtyard. She raised her head at the sound of Willem’s voice. Her brow furrowed as she considered the question, turning her ear to hear what was troubling the Halfling.

‘Seems trouble is heading this way, Willem. What it is I can’t say. Get Carr in here and anyone else in the Green Man. We’d better make the place fast against coming danger.’

[Huan]

Birger had come in to the common room to be near the fire. His chores were done and cook had given him a sweet bun with a cup of hot, strong tea. He’d settled in to enjoy the treat, but now his restful time had come abruptly to an end. The yowling and squawking, the yips and growls that had started just a while ago were now making him more and more fearful. And now here was Old Goody talking about trouble of some sort coming to the Green Man.

He saw Willem get up to fetch Carr. He in turn jumped up and ran to lock the door securely, and began to latch each of the windows tight against any who might try to get in. When he heard the old hound begin to howl, he ran as quick as he could to the back courtyard. He brought the old fellow inside and then went to lock the chickens and the pigs in the shed.

For a moment, he stood in the yard, looking at the animals as they wandered in a frenzy. ‘I wish I could understand you,’ he said, a sad look on his face. ‘But if you can understand me at all, you’d better go hide and be quick about it.’

He hurried back inside, fastening the back door as he had the front.

[Envinyatar]

It was Mori who explained to Arato that danger now traveled swiftly toward the Green Man. ‘No, not the creature, or so this little wren pulling at my hair says. The great owl saw them as he flew back to the courtyard. There is a large pack of great wolves from the north heading directly toward the Inn. Most likely made bold by the stirring evil here.’

Stamo cocked his head listening both to the hound who bayed in the distance and then the furious barking of White Paw when he appeared. ‘And the hound, too. The old one at the Inn, he has sent a message out that the enemy draws near. And his pup here, urges us to come back.’ He eyed the sword which the man carried. ‘I think the hunt for Wenda can be given to you to carry forward . . . yes? It looks as if you might be a match for the foul creature in his present state.’

‘We will return to the Green Man to see to its defenses. You go on after Wenda and Mara and bring them safely back.

[Child of the 7th Age]

We must act. We must act as quickly as we can. Who know's how long it will take the two leggeds to hurry back to the Inn even if little Wren can find them?

With these stern words reverberating through his head, Owl turned to address the other animals who had by now now lined up inside the courtyard, crowding together as tightly as they could. He explained what he had seen outside on the plain and reminded the animals that they would have very little time to act. Once Owl had finished his speech, everyone began squalling and howling at once, nervously inquiring what they must do to protect themselves.

"This is all very well and good, Owl," snorted Old Hedgehog, his squeaky voice rising above the general din, "But at least the two-leggeds are inside. Yet, here we sit in the courtyard, real sitting ducks for any flesh-eater who waltzes by. I beg your pardon, ma'm, of course." Hedgehog offered hasty apologies to two fat ducks who were seated on the far end of the circle.

One of the mice, a mother surrounded by half a dozen babies, nervously squeaked, "Hedgehog is right. We have no protection here, not even a hole in the ground to use as a burrow. Some of us can fight. I know I can. And a few of us can fly away. But we must find a safe hiding place for our little ones who can't leave and who would be too frightened to defend themselves. She glanced down lovingly at her own children who by now were snoozing together in one large pile, oblivious to all danger, their tails and heads intertwined.

"You're right. You're right." others hastily agreed. "But where? Where should we take them? They can't stay here, not out in the open."

"There is that old shack in the woods just off the river." Bear added. "Perhaps we could take the little ones there?"

Owl gave a hoot and solemnly shook his head. "No, I do not think that is a good idea. We must stay together. If we take the little ones to the river, we would have to send good fighters with them, and our strength here would be cut in half. And how do we know these slavering beasts wouldn't turn from the Inn after their attack and immediately make for the old shack, once they get the scent of the place. No, I believe it is better that we make our stand here. Anyways, there is a safe place to hide....that is, as safe as any place can be in these hard times. The larger animals can bed their little ones down in the stable. And the ones who are small...... Well, I am sure they have extra room in the Inn, even if only up in the attic." Owl squinted upward, noting an open window on the topmost floor.

"But will they let us in?" Hedgehog protested. "Animals and two-leggeds just don't mix. It's not as if we were their precious cows and hens that they spend so much time protecting."

"Yes, Owl, perhaps we should wait for wren to return and the other two-leggeds will help us. At least they will understand what we want to do and why we want to do it."

"Humph!" Owl responded. "We must act now. We need to get the little ones safely put away so the rest of us can organize our attack. There's no time to lose! You there, Buck, , lead the young foxes and deer and the other large beasts over to the stable and make a racket until someone opens the door and you can barrel in. The rest of you, come with me!"

A large contingent of baby animals---mice, conies, toads, squirrels, otters, an assortment of birds, and even an ant or two--went scurrying along behind Owl and Bear and mounted the steps of the Inn. Bear pushed against the door of the Green Man and the whole herd of creatures came tumbling into the large common room, much to the astonishment of those inside.

[Envinyatar]

Mori and Stamo, accompanied by White Paw made all haste back to the Green Man. ‘By the One!’ Mori swore, seeing the door to the Inn wide open and hanging slightly askew, or so it seemed. ‘We’re too late! The wolves have entered the place!’

The two men stepped up cautiously onto the little porch, their ears and eyes straining to know who or what they would find. It was curiously quiet, save for what seemed to be the occasional scuffling sound of feet on the wooden floor, the hoot of an owl, and the deep snorting sort of breath bears make . . . and of course the soft little quack-quack that nervous ducks tend to make.

‘What in all creation is this?’ said aloud, as he stepped into the room. A line of animals stood just inside the door. Across the room were the Halflings, the Innkeeper, the Cook, Birger, and any other of the occupants of the Green Man. There were bows drawn, and cudgels in hand, along with a long handled iron skillet, pitchfork, and whatever implement the occupants had found readily at hand.

‘Best we get this door back in place and bolted fast . . .’ he said, taking in the situation. ‘It’s not them that are attacking you,’ he advised the human defenders. ‘More like they’ve come in for shelter against the real enemy.’

‘The creature is on his way here!’ one of the men said in alarm, his pitchfork dropping down to rest on the floor.

‘No, not the creature . . . there is a large pack of wolves come down from the hills. Stirred up most likely by the presence of this foul spawn of Melkor. They are feeling brave . . . and rather hungry for the kill. We’ve come to help you defend against them. Another has gone on against the creature to save Wenda and Mara if he might.’ He made a claming gesture with his hands. ‘Lay down your weapons, please. And let’s get the Inn secured.’ He nodded to Owl. ‘Can you get your folk organized? You know their skills best.’

Mori reached into the satchel that hung at his side and scooped out the cat. ‘And you little master, how are your skills against wolves these days? See how you can help, if you will . . .’

[Nerindel]

Maranwe

As Greenbeard strode on Mara gave more thought to their situation, Greenbeard seemed sure that they would be safe at Fir Hill, but Mara was not so sure. she looked up at the sky recalling Mori saying something about this thing… this shadow having no like of sunlight or was it day, she could not recall but she was certain that he had said that it weakened it in someway and this could only be of an advantage to them. perhaps if only to give them yet again the opportunity to flee!

Maranwe had fought many battles in her young years but she was no fool, she knew this thing was beyond her and more than once since she had left the relative safety of the Green man she wished Arato was with her… she did not know what it was, but whenever she was with this strange mysterious warrior she felt safe, even when faced with the most terrifying of evils his presence was a comfort.

As she thought of Arato, she again pondered on her visions and of what she had seen. Mori and Stamo battling the shadow or at least that is what she assumed they were doing though they bore no visable weapons, but wait had she forgotten so easily the glimmer of light just out of reach of the battle a glimmer like that of a blade edge? Arato? Mara suddenly wondered or was she merely grasping? Perhaps… perhaps not, but if it was her friend with Mori and Stamo then she must find a way to let them know where they were going.

Pulling out the sheaf of pine bark owl had brought them, she carefully stripped off the top layer and with Greenbeards instruction she etched with one of her knifes a crude picture of a lone fir atop a small hill, surrounded by other firs knit together in a wall that enclosed the hill, hoping at least one of them would know the place. Greenbeard seemed to think they would when she spoke to him of her suspicions that all three men seemed something other than what they appeared. Then unclasping the copper brooch fastened to her cloak she quickly slipped the pine note on to it and had Greenbeard stop that she could attach it at eye level to one of the trees.

“Hoom not far now!” Greenbeard rumbled in a lower tone than he had been. She could feel it too an oppressive darkness that weeded it way into her soul rooting out and tugging incessantly at her fears, she glanced down at Wenda. All three deer’s eyes where wide with fear as they glanced nervously together. “Stay close!” Mara called to them, hoping that her voice might reassure them and distract at least momentarily from their fears.

It was not long before they reached the close knit wall of firs that Greenbeard had described and as they drew nearer Mara could see no way for them to pass, suddenly she could hear a low hum, it was coming from Greenbeard then the firs seemed to part admitting the Ent and his companions, before again knitting together behind them.

Greenbeard gently set her down on the ground, there was no snow only a carpet of fallen pine needles, a gentle slope lead to the top of the hill, where underneath a lone pine sat a pool of clear fresh spring water. “Drink” Greenbeard urged them as the reached the pool and they did greatfully. It was cool and crisp and left them surprisingly filled and refreshed and the fear that had tugged at then seemed to have gone when they had passed under the wall of firs.

Mara stared at the wall for a long time there was something about it that reminded her of Arato a feel, a sense, that she could not quite grasp….

“ Hoom This place is special to the trees,” Greenbeard said interrupting her thoughts. “Especially the firs see how they close themselves together to protect it, there are not many of them left but they gather here and take root.” Mara saw a light of sadness in the old Ents eyes as he spoke.

“Do you really expect these trees to hold against that.. that shadow,” Wenda asked as she came beside them, Mara took off her over tunic and gave it to Wenda along with her cloak as the young Shape-changer waited the Ents Reply. But Mara’s thoughts where no longer on whether the firs would hold back any attack, nor whether Arato and the others would reach them on time, but on the Mountains that loomed over fir hill. There had been more to her vision than she had not told the others and as she stared at the white peak of the mountain she knew that what she had seen was near, it would be here and soon and fate would decide! a great fear then welled up inside Mara a fear that she had never known before.


*********************************************


Arato

Arato flew through the darkness, a silent shadow twisting past trees and leaping over stream and brush. He was driven by fear for Illuvatar’s daughters and anger at himself for failing to foresee this new danger!

All about him the forest was silent, a curtain behind which many eyes watched and waited, fearful of the events passing before them, of this shadow, this darkness that threatened to devour their world. He ascended the mountains slope at a dead run, alert for the presence of both the shadow and its intended prey, sensing neither yet, but knowing that they must be close.

He tried to calculate how far ahead of him they might have gotten, but it was impossible to tell. At best, he could only hazard a guess. He knew not how much of a head start the two women had gained and now admonished himself for not asking as much of the brothers before they had left to face the new danger threatening those back at the Green Man.

A darkened trail of death and decay marked his enemies passage, snow melted into thick brown mush, leaves blackened with disease, bark rotted on still living trees. This one cared not if any followed, arrogant in it’s own ignorance, still believing as it’s master had that it’s power, greater than that of Illuvatars children gave it the right to be lord and master over all, that it was better than any that walk this world, that none could contest it’s will! But it had been wrong about that and had paid dearly for it’s mistake, Mori and Stamo would have surely wounded it deeply. ‘but perhaps not dearly enough’ Arato thought bitterly, as his thoughts again turned to the two young women being chased by this thing.

Every few feet deep gouges crossed his path left and right unmarred by the decay. Arato stopped to study one more closely as he realised that there was a regularity to their occurrence. The earth was cut deep as though a tree had been ripped up by it’s roots but not nearly deep enough for it to have been rooted overly long. As he moved outwards from the gouges he noted something else deer prints at least three sets , keeping pace with what ever made the gouges he thought as he followed them on.

Could this be he wondered contemplatively, could it be that young Wenda and her companions managed to find an ally in one of Yavanna’s Guardians? But what of Mara, there was certainly no visible sign that she was with them, though she would have not been able to keep up with the Ent on foot, perhaps it carries her…. But where too he wondered looking out into the vast scope of trees before him.

It was then he noticed it a faint glimmer on the branch of a nearby tree, drawing cautiously forward he realised that it was a reddish copper brooch in the shape of a beech leaf… Mara’s he realised at once plucking it from it’s perch, attached was a tightly rolled up scrap pine bark no words were written upon it but a hastily etched picture of a small hill with a fir tree on top adorned it’s surface.

‘Clever girl!’ Arato grinned, realising from the simple etching where they were heading. Fir hill, he had once heard it called, a sanctuary for Yavanna’s beloved trees, perhaps this night it would serve thus for the two young women!

Slipping the brooch into his tunic, he hurried on hoping that this sanctuary of Yavanna’s would at least keep them safe until he could arrived.

[piosenniel]

Wren flew into the common room in a crazy, wind-milling fashion, tumbling foot over beak as he tried to land on one of the tables. He was quite out of breath and his little heart beat so fast he feared it might burst from his chest altogether.

‘Hurry! Hurry! They’ll be here soon!’ he gasped out. ‘I saw them as they left the base of the hills and entered to short flat plain between there and here!’

He put a wing tip to his chest and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. ‘Have mercy, have mercy!’ he muttered to himself. ‘I could use a little of that good ale to steel my nerves . . .’

[Arry]

‘Fetch the rest of our arrows from upstairs, Madoc,’ Andwise called to his brother. He’d lowered the bow he’d held just moments ago, when he and the others had expected an attack from the animals that now stood quietly in the room as if listening to what was being decided. He still had his eye on the bear, but the big hulking animal was busy now scooping some of the smaller animals toward the center of the room. Herding them, he thought, like a shepherd does those under his care . . . to safety.

‘And you, Willem, take the lad there and see if you can fetch some thin toweling and lamp oil.’ He motioned for Birger to draw near and gave him a few hurried directions.

‘We won’t be much use to you if we fight the wolves straight on. Too small for that,’ he said nodding his head at his assessment. ‘But I noticed when we first came that the Inn has a high gabled roof. If you, Carr, can get a ladder to set up against the eaves, then we’ll go up and defend from above.’

He looked toward the great owl and then at the two tall men. ‘And I had another thought, too . . . that is if the bigger birds would agree to it.’ He rocked a little on his feet, feeling awkward that he should be thinking of using a bird for defense and even more odd that he should be, in a manner, speaking to them about it.

Andwise ran his hand through his curls, pushing away the uncomfortable feelings. ‘Anyways . . . I was thinking that the kitchen probably has some small skin bladders they use for storing liquids in.’ He looked up at the two men, reassured that their attention was on him; that he had not been discounted. ‘If we fill them with cooking oil I thought the larger birds could drop them on the wolves as they charged near the Inn. The oil would soak into their fur. And the touch from a burning arrow would set the beast aflame . . . if we’re very lucky, the flames will spread as the burning wolves bump against the others.’

‘Of course, we can’t burn all of them, but it would surely decrease the number of attackers and distract a number of them, making the remaining beasts more manageable for us . . .’

Andwise’s voice trailed off as he looked about the room from man to bird to beast . . . waiting to see what they thought of this . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hot on the trail.....

The wolves could sense the shadow creature urging their band to hurry forward and join him in the North. A heavy mist had swallowed the surrounding countryside, draping the world in a thick curtain of terror that struck the hearts of all those who came under its dark spell. It was as if each of the two-leggeds in the Inn was called upon to face the secret fear that he or she most wished to avoid. The feelings emenating from the two-leggeds in the Green Man were so strong that the band of wolves had no trouble picking up on that scent.

Spurred on by the call of the shadow as well as the insistent clamoring of their own stomachs, the wolves ploughed greedily forward with noses pointed towards the ground. They had been commanded to join the shadow creature, but the place of the meeting lay far to the North. First, they must stop and feed. The scent of fear and the possibility of fresh meat relentlessly swept them forward.

The tail of the lead wolf swept rhythmically back and forth in anticipation of the bloody feast that he hoped was soon to follow. The trail of the two-leggeds was maddeningly fresh even amid the bracken and fallen leaves. Every step brought the wolves closer to the spot where the Inn nestled against the hillside, seemingly open and defenseless to any attack. Almost as one, the members of the pack veered northward towards the source of the fear, trotting swiftly along the rocky ridges of the hills until they came to the place where a grove of tall oaks stood.

Under the direction of the pack leader Nilak, the band approached this outer grove on silent padding feet; the trees stood less than a quarter mile from the front door of the Inn. Nilak gave the signal to the others to spread out in a semi-circle and crouch low in the grass so that the two-leggeds would not spy them as they approached the Inn. As a low growl escaped from his mouth, Nilak peered out above the line of grass to see who was there and assess the layout of the land.

The moon had slipped behind a cloud: the earth quivered in an eerie stillness. Nilak's shaggy coat, and that of the other wolves, blended in perfectly with the shadows. The only thing that could be seen, even from some paces distant, were matching pairs of greedy yellow eyes blazing through the night. Still, Nilak stood perfectly still, holding back from his attack. He could see tiny lights in the windows of the Inn just ahead, but did not know how many of the two-leggeds the place housed and whether they would be outside in the courtyard. He would wait just a little, until it was perfectly dark, and then surge forward, hoping to find some victims outside the building, perhaps tending to the animals in the stables. After taking care of these, surely more would join them, enough to provide a comfortable meal for all eight members of his band. For now then, he would wait and watch.....

[Huan]

Birger showed Willem to the kitchen and got the cook to help the Halfling with the oil and the toweling. As he left the room he could see Willem showing Cook how to tear the toweling to wrap about the shafts of the arrows, just above the sharp tips.

Carr was on his way outside to fetch the ladder. And Birger followed after him to give a hand. They soon had it in place, leaning securely against the eaves of the house. Birger clmbered quickly up it with a broom and swept a pathway on sloping roof for the Halflings and he to climb up.

He narrowed his eyes as he stood at the top, squinting into the distance. He thought he saw a small dark cloud swiftly moving over the frozen ground and making for The Green Man.

He found the Halflings ready with their bows and arrows as he re-entered the inn. Birger grabbed a small bucket of flaming coals and tinder and followed them out the door as they left. They would dip their arrows, Andwise told him, into the heat and set them aflame.

The Halflings handed him their quivers to put on once they reached the roof. He would stand ready to plunge three at a time into the bucket and set them alight when the time came.

Quick as they could, Birger and the three Halflings took their positions on the spine of The Green Man and stood ready. Birger felt the pocket in his breeches with his free hand, making sure his sling and his rocks were well at hand should he need them . . .

[Tevildo]

Tevildo had slithered out of Mori's satchel, listening with renewed interest as Andwise explained his ideas for fighting back against the wolves. The cat was not unhappy to be here in the Inn plotting an attack on a wolf pack rather than curled up in Mori's bag hiding from the shadow creature. Not that Tevildo couldn't have taken out that grim faced monster on his own if the wizards had cleared out and given him a bit of elbow room. But the long-robed fellows had proven singularly uncooperative, not appreciating or acknowledging how he might have helped them.

As much as Tevildo disliked Melko's former henchman, he could not help but be pleased by the fact that he would now be up against a band of dishevelled and ugly hounds, predictable brutes who slathered at the mouth and, just like their cousins, the cowardly dogs, attacked their prey in gangs. As far as Tevildo was concerned, there was very little difference between the two types of canines, except that the wolves had the good sense normally to avoid the two-leggeds.

Huan and the rest of his ilk hanging about the Inn would probably deny that any relationship existed. But that was because dogs were untrustworthy, nasty creatures who told enormous lies just to get the approval of their masters. Still, Tevildo would be quite happy to work hard for the downfall of the wolves. If the wolves could be escorted out first, perhaps the dogs would be the next to go!

Owl was so caught up organizing the ground attack of the larger animals that he had paid no attention whatsoever to the birds, some of whom had flown inside the Inn and were now getting in everyone's way. So like birds to make themselves a bother and a nuisance! But the pea-brained creatures did have one advantage even Tevildo could not deny: they had the ability to fly. And it did seem as if this might be an advantage in helping to defeat the pack of wolves. Tevildo had generously offered to Owl to take command of the brigade of smaller birds to teach them what they must do. "You take the kestrels and the merlins," Tevildo purred. "I wouldn't presume to instruct the great birds of prey. Just give me the songbirds and such, and I'll try to put some sense into their heads. What do you say to that?"

[piosenniel]

Wren perched on the crossbeam of the ceiling and cast a beady black eye down on the proceedings below. Many of his feathered confederates were also

A number of the smaller birds had flown up the cross beams of the room, wanting to be out of the way of the larger animals. Wren, too, was perched there, ruffling his feathers in a rather indignant manner as he cast a beady black eye at the proceedings below.

‘Kestrels and the merlins!’ he spluttered to himself, catching the conversation between the cat and Owl. ‘Of course you don’t want to try bossing them about,’ he muttered to himself. ‘You lily-livered bird-killer! They’d peck your sneaky little eyes out and leave you for the wolves to make mincemeat of.’ The little brown bird hopped up and down on the beam indignantly at the very thought of a cat trying to put some sense into his head.

Still, he wanted to help . . . and Owl looked to be too involved in his business with the bigger birds to take any note of the smaller. Wren gave a loud trill, calling all the songbirds up the crossbeams. ‘Quiet!’ he ordered, in a quite officious manner as the last of the little twitterers flew up in a rush of feathers to the high perch. With their heads cocked toward him, the little birds gave him their attention.

The sudden silence surprised him . . . as much for the fact that they had actually listened to him as for the fact that a place unfilled with their chattering seemed so cheerless. ‘Listen up, my friends,’ Wren went on. ‘I think the . . . C-A-T down there might have an idea of how we can help against the wolves that are on the way.’ One of the chickadees fluttered her wings, looking as if she might fly down to where Tevildo sat.

‘Sit tight, missy!’ he called to her. ‘No reason to get within tooth and claw reach of him. We all should stay here out of his reach while he tells us his plan.’

Wren leaned over the side of the beam and whistled at Tevildo to attract his attention. ‘Hey you! White cat! We hear you have a plan in mind.’ A score or so of little glittering eyes looked down at the cat from above. ‘And speak up, please! We’re not coming any closer . . .’

[Rose]

White Paw glanced toward the cat and then up to the little brown bird. Saucy thing! But wise in his own way to realize the threat of a common danger might not overcome ages of natural instinct.

The hound had finished convincing his father he meant it when he said the old fellow would not be going out to stand against the wolves. He’d even bared his teeth and growled at his father to emphasize his point. ‘You’ll only distract me from the fight if you insist on going out. I cannot fight effectively if I have to worry about what is happening to you. More lives will be lost if my attention is divided.’ His father’s eyes had blazed briefly at his son’s commanding demeanor and words. Then he’d dipped his head slightly and turned away from White Paw, seeking a spot to lie down near the fire.

Two of his brothers went with White Paw to the outer perimeter of the grounds on which The Green Man stood. On silent, quick feet they made their way to a little thicket of scrubby oak that grew on a small rise at the western edge. The three burrowed into a tangle of bare brushwood dusted with snow that sheltered at the edge of the trees.

On the eastern side, they saw the dark form of a great bear disappear into the shadows of a rocky outcropping. The two groups of outposted sentries would harry the wolf pack from behind, pushing them toward the arrows of the Halflings and the devices of the bigger birds.

In his mind’s eye, White Paw kept the images of the two tall men. Should the other defenses fail, they had promised to stand against the coming Dark....

[Undómë]

‘Come, greybeard,’ Goody crooned to the old hound who’d lain down near her. He drew nearer her outstretched hand, inching along the smooth wood of the floor on his belly. His lips were curled back slightly from his yellowed teeth, as if to smile at her invitation. And his tail thump-thumped in a glad and grateful way.

The old woman offered him the bowl of thick soup someone had placed near her earlier in the evening. ‘Won’t be needing this,’ she whispered to him, putting the cooled offering down in front of him. ‘This fire and the turning year has clean pulled the hunger from me, Master Hound,’ she went on as the old dog stood up stiffly and began to lap up the mishmash of meat and vegetable. ‘I feel as light and empty as the bleached bone of a sparrow’s wing. Made a meal of by some hungry cat, picked clean and left to dry in the turning seasons. Hollow . . . yes, that’s the word. And where I was once strong and unbending . . . now does time leach away the hardness bit by bit.’

She laughed as the hound paused and cocked his head, turning his muzzle up to her as if to seek the meaning of her words. ‘One strong gust of wind, you know, and what little as holds me together will fly apart. And oh then will I be scattered on the breezes and the airs.’ Goody poked the log with her charred stick and fed a few twigs of rowan and red-berried holly to the flames. ‘But not ‘til I’ve seen this one task through.’

Above her, she could just make out the muffled steps of the Halflings and Birger as they took their positions on the Inn’s roof. The younger hounds and the Bear had gone out of doors only a little while ago. In their dark eyes she thought she had seen the same timeless glimmerings of those hounds that had once run at the feet of The Huntsman’s horse. The quarry would be run to ground; brought down with a sure and savage vengeance; rent by tooth and claw. The fur would fly and in the ensuing melee only the howls and strangled yips of the vanquished wolves would be left. Scattered on the winds, too, she thought.

‘Now isn’t that just something,’ the old woman mused. She shifted her bony hips on the chair, easing herself into a more comfortable position. ‘Well, well, well . . .,’ she mused, chewing over the little epiphany like some piece of gristle with a few shreds of sweet meat still clinging to it. ‘Good and bad . . . and it all comes down to this . . . the ashes of old dried bones flung all willy-nilly to the farthest corners by the breath of winds . . . and who would know them then for ill or fair, I wonder?’

The old hound sat down on his haunches and snorted as she asked her question. He sneezed, an added emphasis, sending the dust and a small bit of ash from the fire wheeling up into the room.

Goody narrowed her eyes, looking askance at her companion’s comment and shook her head. ‘Nay, not even you, Master Hound, with your keen nose could say.’ He rose to his feet again and growled low as if to disagree with her.

‘Still, we know at this very moment the difference, don’t we? The choices are already made. The lines clearly drawn. The scent and shape of the foe sharp to eye and nose.’

From the corner of her eye, she could see the other in the room preparing for their part in this engagement. Soon the foe would be met. Goody shivered at the thought, a mixture of ancient dread and growing anticipation.

‘Well, then, what can we do, we old ones . . . too slow in thought and limb . . . more hindrance than help.’ She gathered the hound near to her; he leaned against her leg. ‘We’ll keep the Green Man’s fire burning, shall we? Keep watch against the rising dark.’

In the midst of the hubbub, at the heart of the inn, the two grey-haired companions sat wrapped in a deep silence. Their eyes glinted in the dance of the Yule log’s flames, flickering, flickering . . .

[Arry]

From their vantage point on the roof, and in the shadow of the chimney, the three Halflings could see the shadows of the great wolves as they moved across the flat little space of plain that stood between the foothills and the village. The moon was bright and threw the shadows across the expanse of snow like long sharp claws of darkness. At the rate the wolves were traveling they would be to the gates in a very short span of time.

Andwise whistled low, a short shrill little sound that trailed off at the end . . . the call of a nighthawk hunting. It was answered by the soft calls of several night flying raptors . . . ‘They stand ready,’ he whispered to his brothers and to Birger. ‘It is as the great owl told the tall men. They will come down on silent wings and drop their pouches of oil on the wolves. The hounds, then and I think the great bear will drive the pack toward us, distracting them as they harry the beasts with tooth and claw.’

He signaled to Birger to stand just behind the three of them with the bucket of live coals and the bundle of arrows with their wrapped tips soaked in oil. ‘When they are in bow range, we will begin to fire among them.’

Willem bore a worried look on his face. ‘What if the wolves get too close, all burning and such? Won’t the Inn be in danger of catching fire, too?’

[Huan]

‘That’s what I thought, too, Master Willem. But Cook and Carr have filled a great number of buckets and pots and stand ready to douse the flames. From the windows on the second floor. And those in the inn will rush out with pitchfork and club and claw, tooth, and sharp beak to drive the beasts back from the inn walls.’ He paused for a moment, beetling his brow. At least that’s what I understood the owl and the cat and Masters Mori and Stamo to be discussing.’

Birger shrugged his thin little shoulders and looked wide-eyed at the Halflings. ‘’Tis very hard to get the sense of a conversation, when half of it is in hoots and growls and meows and such.’

[littlemanpoet]

Greenbeard had lain down on his high bed. Wenda and Mara had stayed on the ground, tucking themselves underneath two fir trees, making a soft bed of the many years' fall of needles.

Wenda could feel it coming. It was not far away.

Pada and Muna stood close to each other as two peas in a pod. Their noses twitched and their wide eyes betrayed fear and the awareness that something that threatened their lives was near.

Fir Hill was not enough to hold back the shadow. It had felt so near most of the day and night, but now seemed remote. It was not; rather, it had diffused itself over great spaces so as to be harder to detect. Suddenly it closed on Fir Hill.

Wenda's lips betrayed a bare hiccup, but Mara saw the whites of her eyes. Her face darkened.

"Wenda! Wenda!" Mara cried fearfully.

The shadow found the two-souled woman. The other woman would be next, then the Ent. It wanted this second soul, sweet to the taste, all mute fear and despair. It consumed.

Wenda seemed to be choking in her sleep, her body shaking and fighting against itself in seeming, her arms flailing.

"Araròma calls you, foul beast!" cried a sharp voice from very close by. Of a sudden Wenda's contorting body fell back and she seemed as one dead.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Owl had been exceedingly busy for the past few hours, not only preparing for the attack that must be made, but soothing disgruntled egos and straightening ruffled feathers. He had hurried over when Wren had questioned Tevildo's motives and, with the help of Mori and Stamo, brought some semblance of peace between the smaller birds and the cat. The songbirds were poised on the topmost eaves of the Inn, each pair balancing a small kettle filled with oil that was intended to be dumped onto the wolves.

Tevildo's old hunting buddies had unexpectedly reappeared at the Inn, either because they had a second sense for sniffing out a good fight or simply didn't want to remain outside with a pack of ravenous wolves loose in the neighborhood. Tevildo had deserted his post with the songbirds and had resumed his spot at the head of his feline gang. The cats were positioned in the middle branches of the tree, ready to spring down and lend their sharpened claws once the larger beasts had brought the pack to bay.

The howling of the wolves was becoming louder and more insistent as they sped across the plain and approached the outer gate of the courtyard. Owl had hurriedly slipped through one of the still open windows and flew above the Inn in large sweeping circles, keeping a close eye on what was happening below. At that instant, he saw the lead beast approach the old stone wall that ran along the perimeter of the Green Man's courtyard. The creature leapt the stone fence with two great bounds and began streaking through the outer garden.

With a great hoot and cry, Owl bellowed out a warning, "Everybody ready. In your place. We must fight for our burrows and our nests, for our little ones, both two legged and four legged. Everyone together now. The battle is upon us." With that, Owl dived towards one of the advancing beasts, pressing forward with his claws to strike and tear at the pair of gleeming yellow eyes.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Once he had leapt the stone fence, Nilak was pleased to discover that he was standing directly in front of the Inn. Inside that building must lie a sumptious feast, nearly free for the asking. He had a particular weakness for the young cubs of the two-leggeds. Surely, there would be a few of these little ones hiding under their bedclothes.

Nilak's gold eyes peered steadily into the night taking in the entire yard and even the lower branches of the trees. For one instant, it appeared as if the courtyard was entirely deserted. Perhaps the two-leggeds did not even know that they were about to attack. But then, out of the darkness, he caught a jumbled glimpse of several hazy figures, half hidden in the shadows, concealed behind whatever cover they could manage to find. What Nilak saw pleased him immensely. With the sole exception of one large and rather awkward looking bear, most of the others looked to be small and weak opponents, scarcely worthy of his attention: a bevy of birds, several hobbits with tiny bows, and some disreputable looking cats.

Howling in triumph, the leader of the pack hurled himself forward and called out to the other wolves: "At them, boys. They are weak and puny. We shall feast on fresh meat tonight."

[piosenniel]

Oil and ashes . . .


As the first of the beasts cleared the wall, the smaller birds flew out from the second story windows with their small pouches of oil and dropped them on the wolves. Not all of them hit the target, but splashed on the ground beneath the pack’s feet. And that was alright – the tall men had told them so. The little puddles of oil on the ground could just as easily catch fire from the Halflings’ arrows and make small barriers that would distract the wolves.

Distract the wolves, they would indeed. For now the smallest of birds flew out from those same windows. There were four of them to a linen dish towel, each to a corner. The center of the towel held a light load of ash and cinder from the fireplace.

There were four towel formations which launched their attack against the foe.Soon a number of the wolves were yowling as their eyes were assaulted by the dust and scratched by the cinders.

Wren flew down in a mad dive bomb of the nearest wolf's tail once his load of ashes were dropped. And a number of the other small birds assisted him, much like a swarm of bees rushes in to sting an offending intruder.

There were, of course, casualties, as the great beasts snapped at the small defenders. But many of the little birds were able to find places on the wolves, especially about the tender ears where they could peck and rip at the flesh. And some, though not all of these brave birds survived, were able to grab hold of a bushy eyebrow and peck out a nasty yellow eye or two . . .

[Arry]

It was hard to wait. The wolves had begun to come over the wall, and Willem could barely control the urge to shoot at them. He stood stock still as did his brother, though, and arrow nocked in his bow; the string pulled back to h his ear.

‘Wait, wait,’ whispered Andwise. ‘They will fly out soon.’

And no sooner had the words left his lips than a cloud of birds flew from the windows just below them, the little pouches of oil clenched firmly in their little feet.

Birger stepped near with an oil soaked brand and plunged it into the live coals. It caught flame and he quickly transferred the flames to the arrows of the Halflings.

‘Make them count – Madoc, Willem.’ Andwise spoke low, keeping his eye on the wolves below. He let loose his arrow, striking the left flank of a wolf just jumping down from the stone wall.

The beast yelped in anger and in pain. And in his attempt to roll and put out the fire, the wolf managed to ignite several puddles of oil on the ground.

Willem and Andwise sent their own arrows flying, too; one hitting a wolf, one glancing off the haunches of another to go skittering onto the oil-soaked ground.

One more round of flaming arrows flew toward the foe from the Halflings’ bows. There were smoky, flaming patches on the ground below, and a number of the wolves were panicked from their own singeing.

Then, with a gesture to Birger that they were done, the three archers moved a little closer to the edge of the eaves and began to fire at the wolves with the remainder of their sharp-edged arrows.

[Rose]

As the wolves began to leap the stone wall into the Green Man’s back courtyard, White Paw and his two brothers closed in behind them from the right. The brown bear, on silent paws for one so large, swung in from the left. The four defenders loped along silently behind the nine wolves.

The last two wolves in line were keeping watch as their fellows leapt in ones and twos to the top of the wall and over. They were just turning, themselves, to follow after the pack when they were hit hard from behind.

With a might swipe of his big, sharp-clawed paw, the bear hurled the wolf nearest him against the wall. The wolf was not killed, but he was stunned and he struggled to find his footing as he shook his head, trying to clear it from the impact. With a roar the bear’s massive, muscular body was upon him. With a loud crunch he snapped the wolf’s neck in his powerful jaws. And for good measure he shook the now limp body with a fury and flung it over the wall.

The other wolf had launched himself against the bear hoping to drive it from his packmate. White Paw hurtled himself toward the attacking wolf’s hind legs, knocking him down for a moment. The hound’s snapping jaws hamstringed the wolf on one side and the beast turned, biting savagely at White Paw.

White Paw’s two brother’s barreled into the side of the wolf and brought him fully down. As the wolf turned to lunge and lifted his head to bite at them, White Paw scrambled forward to seize the wolf by the neck. It was a bloody struggle, the three hounds against the big wolf. But at the last, the lupine body lay still and bleeding onto the blood-muddied snow.

‘Well done!’ the bear growled turning toward the gate in the wall. ‘Now come, wolf-banes! There are more inside to be killed. With a roar he rushed to the gate and opened it with a swipe of his paw. Behind him the hounds ran, bloodied, howling loud at the promise of another kill.