The Long Winter RPG

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy came down into the kitchen got a bowl of oatmeal and sat down. The kitchen was quite cozy and warm this morning and made Daisy think of home. Today was the one day that she wished she could be home, because her mother always made this day so special. All her favorite meals would be made and then later in the day everyone would get together and have a great party. She would wear her favorite yellow dress as it made her eyes a very bright blue. They would drink ,dance, sing, and the men would smoke pipe-weed. There would lots of food because everyone who came brought something, and it would end with a beautiful cake made by her mother. A merry time would be had by all.

It was nice to think about home and her parents, but here in Whitfurrows things would not be that fun today. She had to go with Bullroarer to check the traps that they had set the day before while they were hunting. Daisy had had a pretty good day with her uncle. She had managed to get some of her courage back and was able to take down some small animals with her sling. While walking she and Bullroarer talked about the attack of the dogs and her ability with her sling. He told her that she would have to learn to aim at the heads of any of their future attackers, but he also believed that she did the best that she could. It made her feel a lot better.

While in the forest Daisy couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was. It was if all the animals were afraid to move or make any noise less they be found. It felt so lifeless out there with the snow making a world devoid of color. As a matter of fact since they left Bullroarer’s home the only color seemed to come from everybody’s clothing, which after a while of walking in the blinding snow matched everything else in the Shire. She couldn’t help but wonder if all of middle earth looked and felt like this place.

Today the sun was showing through the clouds ever so slightly. It still looked very creepy outside and was very bitterly cold. She hoped that the sun would stay out while they were checking the traps. Bullroarer told her to make sure and dress warm because the sun wouldn’t offer any warmth only light, so she went back to her belongings and found the warmest clothes she owned and prepared for the trip to the woods. Once ready she went to the kitchen to wait for Bullroarer.

Gaddy had come into the kitchen while she was there to get some oatmeal for himself and Hal. He looked like he was feeling a little better, but like her was still upset about not being able to help protect everybody during the attack. She wanted to go to him and comfort him, she didn’t have the time, and he still seemed to be avoiding her. He did look at her once, but looked away quickly when she noticed him. She hoped that he wasn’t mad at her because she really liked him and hoped to spend a lot of time with him on this trip to get to know him better.

Bullroarer came into the kitchen then and announced to Daisy that he was ready to go. They went out the door and headed towards the woods. They were quiet, each thinking their own thoughts as the cold winds hit them, chilling them to the bone. Daisy hoped that they would be lucky and have full traps and a short day in the woods.

[Alkanoonion]

Carl stayed wake most of the night preparing his gift for Daisy, a wonderfully carved Bow of her own. The carving had taken him most of the night but Carl did not mind, he enjoyed making things with his hands.

By morning the gift was almost complete. As a personal touch, Carl had carved onto the shaft flowers with baby hobbits smelling the flowers. Other cherubs like hobbits were depicted to be gleefully hiding behind the petals playing peekaboo. The string was from his horse’s mane and had taken him almost as long to prepare as the bow’s shaft, but all in all he was pleased.

Noticing that the sun had risen Carl made his way to the kitchen to get a meal before the long day started. Today was Daisys birthday and he had lots still to organise; there was the meal to be cooked, and the cake to be frosted, and he still had decorations to organise. He wanted to day to be perfect. What better way was there to distract the group from their recent loss than a party?

[ December 18, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The hobbits had spent a busy day. Some had gone fishing, and others trapping. From all their efforts, there was an abundance of game and fish piled up on the table waiting for Bullroarer to sort though the provisions and decide which should go for dinner, which to their gracious hosts, and which should be salted or frozen to take along on the journey.

Gaddy had spent much of his afternoon practicing with the bow and arrow. Several companions had gone outside to help him, including Dinodas and Carl. It was hard for him to concentrate fully on what he was trying to do. Gaddy wasn't the sort to be serious about much of anything. But some of that had begun to change. When he'd seen what happened with the dogs, the lad had been deeply troubled and vowed that he'd never put himself in that situation again of being unable to defend himself and the others around him.

Several hobbits had also been busy bakng a cake for Daisy, and scrambling about to come up with mathoms and little treats for the party. It was early evening. Bullroarer had kept Daisy occupied with a number of tricks so that she wouldn't come inside and see all the preparations. He had her going trapping for a good part of the day, and then coming back and carrying pile after pile of firewood, stacking it up in the yard behind the house.

The girl looked tired and exhausted, but still did not know what was planned for her later that evening. When she'd finished with all her chores, Branda and Tomba pushed her into the stables to sit down and have a chat. Out of the corner of his eye, Branda kept a good look on the house to see when Bullroarer would call them in.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Everyone had made presents for that little hobbit, Daisy. After all the group had been through, Lotho could not help but feel rather attached to the younger hobbits (here, he berated himself for this) and felt he had to give her a birthday gift.

But what? Lotho was no good at making things like Carl. He was only good at selling things. As he thought, an idea came to him. He delved into the tiny wooden box he had brought with him and after a few minutes of searching, brought out a fine, thin but slightly blunt dagger which was too light for him to use. This would be useful, if not somewhat unconventional. If this was going to be Daisy's present, he would have have to get down to the work straight away and sharpen the dagger. He sat quietly in a corner, working intently.

[piosenniel]

It was late afternoon, by the time Bullroarer gave the sign to Branda that all was in readiness. He came to the stable and motioned for the Hobbit to come out. There was flour on his cheek, where he had rubbed an itch while making the cake, and frosting festooned the apron he had hurriedly tied about him in hopes of saving his clothes.

'Give us about ten minutes, Branda.' he whispered. 'Gaddy's got the cake done with my help and it's cooled down enough to put the frosting on.' He reached down with a finger and dabbed at one of the specks on his chest. 'Good chocolate!' he said smiling as he licked the finger.

He strode back to the house whistling a tune to himself. Once inside, he beamed at the hurrying Hobbits, putting up the last bits of decoration. Presents were piled on a small table in the front room, and fresh boughs of fir and pine were stuck here and there sending their pleasant scent into the room. Autumn and Giles had taken the small shiny cookie cutters from the kitchen drawer and hung them on twine from some of the bows, where they twinkled merrily in the firelight.

The big table from the kitchen had been brought to the room and placed at its side. It was filled with delicious foods, and drinks. In the center sat the lovely, though slightly lopsided, two layered cake with 'Daisy' written on the top in white lettering.

'Are we ready!' he boomed to the Hobbits. 'Yes!' they cried, and moved to take their places about the room.

Bullroarer went to the front door and shouted out toward the stables. 'Daisy! Get in here, and quickly! I've something to discuss with you!'

Daisy came at a run, followed by the other Hobbits, wondering all the while what Bullroarer could want of her. She entered the door first, breathless and red cheeked from her exertions. A great shout went up.

'Happy Birthday, Daisy!'

The party had begun . . .

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl smiled and clapped as Daisy walked into the room. She was going to have fun, for she knew that it will be a long time-if ever- before she would be able to laugh, eat, and half fun. The rest of the journey would be surely worse and more frightful than what had already pasted.

Everyone was acting merrily, and had temporarily forgotten about the troubles and woes that had befallen them. They would have fun to, and try to enjoy these merry and gleeful times. They were all laughing and enjoying themselves, maybe for the last time.

She knew that some of them may not go back to their peaceful hobbit-holes. They acted so joyful, without a care in this world. The horrible thought loomed in the back of her mind. She tried to get rid of it, but it sat there, lurking.

With a shriek of laughter from Daisy, she snapped back to reality. She looked around at all of the happy faces, red with excitement. With a happy skip, she jumped from her chair and joined the group. She decided to forget her troubles, even if it was for just that one night.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Nurumaiel]

Daisy looked overjoyed, and Robin felt her heart nearly bursting with happiness. Happiness, though her heart should be filled with sorrow. Dinodas looked as though he felt the same way.

Robin, feeling she had to say something to him, said through the noise, "What did you get her?"

Dinodas gave her a dismayed look and cried, "Robin! We agreed-"

Robin interrupted him with a laugh. "I know we did, I know," she said. "I was just teasing you!"

"Oh," he said rather foolishly, and then went to the other hobbits.

Robin did not follow him at once. Instead she looked around the room, at all the merry hobbits laughing and talking together, and she could almost see Emerald laughing with them. A tear came to her eye, but it was of happiness and love.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

They had bolted into the forest at Nimue's call and spent most of the night on the run.
Despite the fact is was she who had alerted them to the danger, Ragnarok had taken the lead, as was his wont, and bounded off between the skeletal trees. The she-wolves had followed, matching his speed but not daring to dart ahead after his altercation with Roth. Roth would have welcomed the opportunity to lick her wounds, quite literally, but he did not ease his relentless pace. Ragnarok had memories of those who walked upon two legs. Memories the younger Wargs did not share. He was desperate for food but he did not take foolish risks. He needed to find those who were separated from their kin or like Roth, some domesticated creature, left unwatched.

Finally they had slowed at the bank of a wide and still flowing stream. Ragnarok halted and sated his thirst.

The she-wolves approached. The pups staggered, exhausted by their flight through the snow to join them. They both looked down at them at noted that one had been lost. Whether it was too tired and malnourished to maintain the pace or whether it had taken a tumble in the darkness under the trees there was no way of telling. They sniffed their own offspring. It was not one of theirs. Even if it had been they would not have gone back.

Ragnarok moved aside to allow the others to drink. Nimue came forward first. Her teeth ached from the icey water as she lapped it into her dry mouth but like Ragnarok she didn't flinch. It was a small discomfort to bare.

Roth was more cautious. The weak sun had risen some while ago and was even now beginning to wain again but still highlighted the dark smear upon the side of her neck. It was the dried blood from the wound to her ear. The tear was clearly visible. She lay in the snow before him, cowering, while in her heart she planned revenge.

Ragnarok gave an abrupt nod. His thoughts were no less dark but now the bloodlust had abated he was more pragmatic. Roth was a good hunter and he was hungry. She had learned her lesson for now.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Giles came bounding in, breathlessly red from wind, the excitement of a party, and running so he wouldn't be too late and miss it. Stopping himself just short of knocking over the birthday girl, he bowed and deposited at her feet the birthday mathom he'd scrounged. There was a wooden clatter as of drumsticks being let go after the springle-ring dance. *

Happy Birthday, Daisy! Please accept these skis made from barrel staves, and the matching ski poles that once were used for churning butter. May you glide on these skis to good fortune! Oh, and the bucket of pine sap. See, you spread the pine sap on the bottom of the skis, so they'll sail as freely over any snow as ... as Elven ships sail asea!

* Grandma Harfoot looked up from sewing a pocket onto a vest on hearing the talk turn to butter churns. * Mind you, Giles! Be a good lad. If there's time afore you go braving that sea of snow between here and that outlandish Rivendell place, (instead of staying here and keeping your poor old granny company so she doesn't worry herself to death thinking about you), can you see to replacing my butter churn sticks? Daisy's more than welcome to the ones you've given her, mind you. Her birthday, you know! * Grandma Harfoot's face crinkled into one big warm smile. *

* Giles blushed and bowed to his beloved, revered elder. * Why certainly, Grandma!

* Deep down, everyone knew that there was no butter to churn anywhere in Whitfurrows, nor did it look like there ever would be again. Not unless winter released its death-grip on the Shire, or the Elves gave and gave with open hands. *

* In between drifting conversations, Giles overheard that Bullroarer was deciding which foodstuffs to take along as provisions, and which to leave behind with the Harfoot clan in Whitfurrows. He longed to be daring enough to tug on Bullroarer's sleeve and confess that if he had to eat more than a mouthful of fish, he might just as well sit right down and die where he was now, let alone walk all the way to Rivendell sick every step of the way. But there was no way he could bring himself to say a word about it. Better to just trade away that slimey fare in favor of rabbits, or taters, or even squirrels, or the chance to lick any remaining hint of butter from Daisy's new ski poles. *

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn smiled at the Daisy, who seemed to be very overjoyed about the party. After presenting her present, her homemade canteen, to the birthday girl, Auutmn dragged a stool to the fireplace. A few people glanced at her curiously, for no one, except Giles understood what she was doing at the moment.

After sitting down on her stool, Auutmn pulled out one her most prized possessions, her flute. The flute was engraved with ivy and birds along the sides, and was made out of oak wood. It was very beautiful and always made sweet sounds as its master played it.

Gently Autumn raised it to her lips and began to play a soft melody that her brother had onced taught her. As all noise died down, Autumn tried desperately to not stop playing while everyone stared, surpirsed, at her, for the hobbit was not very comfortable with people staring at her.

Then Autumn was caught up in the music, and she let it carry her away as she sprang up lightly from her stool, leaped, and bowed before Daisy, all the while playing her marvelous flute. Then the hobbit lass tiptoed back to the fireplace, and stood playing and filling out her song as Gaddy, slightly embarrassed, bowed before Daisy, and began to dance with her in the middle of the room.

Then Dinadas and Robin moved out with them and began to dance. People laughed and clapped their hands and stomped their feet as Autumn's song changed and became a light and moving tune to carry the dancers away in its wonderful beat.

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the sweet flute carried its song to all in that small freehold, a number of hobbits leapt to their feet and danced all about the floor. The tables had been pushed back along the wall, so that they had plenty of space to swirl and spin, stomping their feet in time to the music.

The room looked fine and cosy. The long table had been spread with a white cloth, and a bright fire burnt in the hearth, sending its cheerful warmth and light over all the hobbit guests.

For once there was something on the menu in addition to fish. Even Branda had to admit he was glad to see coney and a few fine eggs gracing their dinner plates. But there were many other choices as well neatly laid out for all to sample--turnip soup, fish and chips, dried mushrooms, and crusty brown loaves piping hot from the oven, and, above all, plenty of beer.

Still, the cake in the middle of the table was a special treat indeed, with its wobbly letters carefully traced in white icing. And whoever had managed to bring that rangey old buck down just next to the Water must have been a magician with bow and arrow. Most of the meat from the deer would be left with their host to hang in his smokehouse, and feed his family for many days to come. But, tonight, all would get to taste and enjoy.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, and Daisy was opening her presents, Branda stepped forward with a flagon of ale in his hand, and proposed a drink in honor of their birthday lass. Daffodyl bustled in, carrying a tray laden with full mugs, and went about the room passing them out.

Branda leapt up on a chair that stood near the hearth fire, and brandished the mug above his head:

"To Mistress Daisy, may she find this day with her friends to be sweet, and may she celebrate many more parties back home with her family and kin, surrounded by the riches of the earth."

"Hear, hear," cried the other hobbits, brandishing their mugs on high.

Then Bullroarer joined in with his booming voice, "And may we find success on the road, and a warm sweet bed awaiting us in Rivendell, so that we may bring home provisions for the relief of all in the Shire, and honor Emerald's memory in this way."

At this, there were little sighs all around, and Carl piped up loud and clear, "To Emerald and the Shire!"

And all banged on the tables with their pints to show their agreement with that sentiment. Then the music swept forward again, and the hobbits resumed their dancing.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin saw that Daisy was opening her presents, so, with color rising to her cheeks, she stepped forward, dragging Dinodas with her.

"Er... Daisy..." Robin said hesitantly.

Daisy looked up, her eyes sparkling. "Yes?" she said.

"Well, this is from Dinodas and myself," said Robin hastily, and shoved a package into Daisy's arms.

Daisy opened the present and pulled out a beautiful crimson dress. Before she could say anything Robin began talking again.

"I had an old cloak my mum had made me bring along. It was in very bad repair, but I spent all my spare moments fixing it up and turning it into what it is now."

"Thank you," Daisy said, and, leaning forward kissed Robin on the cheek. "Was it from you, too?" she asked, turning to Dinodas.

"Well... er... yes," Dinodas said, "and maybe you could call the fish a present from Branda, Carl, and I... and Tom... I guess," he muttered, glancing darkly towards Tom but winking at him.

"Thank you, too," and Daisy kissed him on the cheek also. Then she saw Gaddy's envious expression and laughed. "Very well," she said, and he got the same as Robin and Dinodas, only he turned brighter red than both of them put together.

Robin stepped back, holding Dinodas' hand, and whispered to him, "That turned out better than I thought it would. I was afraid she wouldn't like it." Dinodas gave her hand a friendly squeeze.

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl put down the tray that once held beer mugs on the table hastily. She reached deep into her apron pocket and found the little bag that held Daisy’s gift securely. She patted it and with a hop and a skip approached Daisy, who was laughing and admiring her new crimson dress.

"Uh…Daisy?" She said as she reached her smiling face.

Daisy looked at the older hobbit-lass and said with a content and pleasant face, "Yes Dafodyl? Do you want something?" Daisy’s smile widened as she saw Dafodyl reach into the pocket of her apron.

"Well, this is for you. I thought you might like something to hold your hair back from your eyes with in the terrible winds that blow." She pulled out the little bag and handed it to Daisy, who surprisingly carefully opened it. Her face glowed when she saw the homemade headband. It was plain and leather brown, but Daisy did not show that with her face.

"Thank you! I love it! Now my curls will not get into my face with that blinding wind!" She hugged Dafodyl and put the headband in her own hair.

Dafodyl smiled and walked off with joy. She went over to sit with her new friends by the fire, to try to catch a bit of the lingering music.

[Ringwraith Number Two]

It looked wonderful. Lotho regarded the sparkling knife, sighing satisfactedly. He had done a good job polishing it up. If Lotho was good at one thing, it was massaging his ego.

He neatly put the knife in its strong sheath and left his room, making his way down the hall. There were many dancing hobbits and a strong strain of flute music.
Now where was Daisy? Aha. Lotho slipped into between the dancing hobbits and approached her.

"Happy birthday, miss," he said. "I've got a present here- I'm afraid its nothing pretty, but it will be very useful." He held out the sheath, and Daisy took. Her eyes widened as she took the knife out.

"Its so light," she said wonderingly.

"Its not an Elvish blade, but you'll find it easy to handle, I hope." He bowed a little. "I'll leave you to carry on dancing now, miss." He retreated, feeling surprised at himself.

"Thank you!" Daisy called after him. Lotho nodded, and stood in his corner, watching the fun.

[piosenniel]

Tomba stood quietly by Bullroarer, hopping nervously from one foot to the other. His cheeks were bulging with food he had crammed into his mouth from his well laden plate, and his eyes sparkled with merriment as he watched the other companions give their gifts to Daisy.

Carefully setting his plate on the table next to him, he washed down the last of the mouthful with a drink of spiced cider, and pulled hard at the bottom of Bullroarer's vest. 'Is it my turn, yet?' he whispered, drawing the older Hobbit's attention.

Bullroarer motioned for him to wipe the last of the crumbs from round his mouth, and set a small packet wrapped in a bright yellow bandana (one of Bullroarer's largish handkerchiefs his wife had so graciously packed for him!)into the waiting lad's hands. 'Go on now.' he urged Tomba, giving him a little push toward Daisy.

Surprisingly shy for lad who's had to live by his wits for sometime, he shuffled up to her, and turning quite red, placed it before her. She raised her big eyes to him, and he blushed an even deeper shade.

Daisy opened it carefully, admiring the hanky which was large enough for her to roll and tie back her curls. 'Oh!' she gasped as she saw what he had given her. It was a brand new sling, made of strong leather, and oiled til it shone. With it were some twenty rounded stones, the size of quail eggs, all cleaned and polished by hand until they gleamed. She smiled in delight at it and grinned at Tomba, thanking him.

He beamed with pride, then leaned close to her and whispered. 'It wasn't just me. Bullrorarer cut the leather for it, but I oiled it. And I was the one who knew where to find all those good stones for it!'

She leaned close to him and gave him a shy kiss on the cheek. 'It's lovely! Thank you! The both of you!' she said, raising her voice so that Bullroarer would hear her.

He winked and her and nodded. And winked again, this time at Tomba, who had retreated once again to the safety of his plate of food.

Bullroarer leaned against the frame of the kitchen doorway, smoking his pipe contentedly, and watched the festivities. Just a few more days here and the companions would be ready to travel on, he thought. His brow furrowed for a moment, thinking of the fearsome miles they must still cross. Then the music caught him up, setting his foot a'tapping to it, and he smiled to see the dancers take the floor once again.

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy was amazed at her new friends’ gifts. Every single one had special meaning from the giver and an even more special meaning to the receiver. She would treasure each gift as if they were the last ones she would ever receive. Every one would be useful on this trip, but also useful at home once she got back.

The party was going strong and the hobbits were having a lot of fun. The music from the flute made all the troubles of the recent past go away. Daisy couldn’t believe that she had danced with Gaddy. It filled her heart with joy and made her feel even closer to him. It was hard to breathe while they danced because she couldn’t believe he would want to dance with her, or that he still liked her. They didn’t really talk to one another because they were both to shy to start a conversation. She wished that she could find the courage to talk to him because that was the only way to get to know him.

She also thought about the way she had been feeling these last few days. Daisy realized that the hobbits weren’t avoiding her because they were mad at her. They were hiding what they were doing so that it would be a surprise for her. It made her feel really good to know that everybody still liked her and wanted her along on this trip.

Daisy knew that with the end of the party everyone had to get prepared to go back out on the road to get to Rivendell and that the most dangerous part of their trip still lay ahead of them. She decided that the next time there were problems she would be ready to handle anything that came her way.

[piosenniel]

OOC: NOTE ALL GAMERS -

I am compressing time to move the story along - please read my post in the discussion thread.

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

Daisy’s party had been just what the companions needed. Their spirits had been lifted, and the week more spent at Whitfurrows had given their bodies the much needed chance to recover. Bullroarer flexed his shoulder, where he still wore the brace for his collarbone, noting that the pain had resolved to a small twinge when he did.

He was out in the stable seeing to the horses, and to the packing of their big wagon. His mind wandered over a mental map he had of the Great East Road and what lay ahead for them.

The hills of Tyrn Gorthad were very much on his mind as Bullroarer planned out the next leg of their journey. The Barrow Downs were there, where the Dúnedain lay resting beneath the now snow covered mounds. It would be a two day journey to pass the Old Forest and another two days from there to reach Bree.

He looked up at the threatening sky, thinking that these next days on the road would be cold ones. They could take cover in the Forest when they reached it, he thought. But from Buckland to the Prancing Pony was open country and the wind would hit them bitterly from the north.

Bushy brows drawn together in thought, he brought up images of fairer days when he and a few lads had traveled to Bree-land. ‘The Barrows!’ he thought, ‘If the weather proves too dire we can take shelter in them. The Men are long dead, and I cannot think they would mind us passing a night, safe from the storm.’

Having solved this small piece of the puzzle, he went to gather the Hobbits together to tell them to pack up, they would leave tomorrow.

**

Three days journey, and they had reached the eastern edge of the Downs. As he had feared, the storm had picked up in intensity, sending a thick blanket of snow to obscure their way, and the bitter wind pierced even the most tightly woven of cloaks. ‘We cannot camp out in this weather.’ he called loudly to Branda and the others as they gathered round him. ‘We shall all freeze to death.’ He pointed toward where the hills stood up from the snow, dotted with snow covered bumps themselves.

Turning south, he lead them to the earthworks and burial chambers of the Ancients of Men . . .

[piosenniel]

As they headed south, Bullroarer looked out over the harsh, wintery landscape, recalling it in gentler days. He sighed, wishing it were so now. He flicked the reins on the ponies' backs and clucked to them, urging them on to bring the wagon slowly through the snow.

Once, in his younger days, as he remembered, he and his friends had ridden to Bree on their ponies. It had been a pleasant day when they reached the area of the Downs, south of the Great East Road -

They stopped, he and his friends, looking south over the treeless, rolling grassy highlands to where the barrows of Men stood on the green hillocks - each marked by a tall, grey standing stone from out the top of the earthwork mound forming the ceiling of the barrow within. Olo, one of his more bold companions, dared the others to see what they could find within.

Laughing merrily, the small group rode toward the nearest barrow; the clatter of their ponies' hooves softened by the grass they trod on. 'How does one get in?' said Olo, looking at the smooth grassy mound before him. 'It seems all grown over, and we've brought no picks or shovels.'

Bullroarer dismounted and walked about the barrow, to the east side of it. There against the green was a large, flat rock, embedded firmly against the side of the grass-covered mound. 'Look here!' he cried, motioning his fellows to help him. 'I think this may be our way in.'

They put their shoulders to the edge of the mossy rock, pushing hard against it. It moved, slowly, aside, and soon they were peering into the darkness of the chamber which lay beyond it, dimly lit now by the wan sunlight filtering in through the entrance.

'Come!' cried Olo, scrambling down onto the floor of the barrow. The others followed and stood blinking for a few moments, their eyes adjusting to the darkened chamber.

Moving a short distance into the barrow (it was tall enough for them to move about without crouching), they gasped when their eyes took in what lay before them. Two skeletal remains of the tall Men of Old lay side by side in the center of the mound. About their heads were fillets of silver set with single gems. The light caught the facets of the nearest gem and it blazed into long forgotten brilliance for a brief moment. Their hands, crossed on their broad chests, grasped the swords which had defended them in life - as long almost as the men themselves, blades grimed but still intact. At their heads lay their shield and helmet, as if they would rise once again should the call come to defend against Darkness. About them were carefully placed the riches and reminders of their former life - gold in sacks now rotted, and jewel encrusted cups, and much, much more.

Bullroarer had laid his hand against the arm of his friend, his eyes wide at the splendor and gravity of the Men of Old. 'We should go,' he cautioned them, 'and leave them to their rest. We have no need to be here. Let us leave them undisturbed.

Bullroarer shook the memory from his mind, clucking to the ponies once again, and turned round to see that the companions were following in the tracks the wagon wheels forged for them. They were nearing one of the barrow mounds now, and he called a stop.

Hopping down from the wagon, he led the ponies up to where the great standing stone poked out above the snow like a broad finger, pointing to the sky.

'Hold them here, Branda, while I find the entrance stone.' He motioned for several of the hobbits to come forward with him. Soon the stone was discovered beneath the snow, on the eastern side of the barrow.

They put their shoulders to the stone, as he and his companions had done so long ago, and moved it slowly away from the entrance. Lighting one of the pitchy torches he had loaded in the wagon, Bullroarer went in first.

'We have need to be here now.' he murmured to the unseen sprits of the dead. 'Let us shelter from the Darkness and the storm for just a night, then we will leave you to your rest once again.' He bowed his head slightly to those who lay within, and motioned the companions in . . .

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[dragoneyes]

The group hesitated at the entrance, all remembering the tales which spoke of evil in places such as these. Slowly, with Bullroarer's encouragement, the first few crept in, leaving behind them footprints in the dust.

Hal was among the first few to enter, by the little light that came in from outside, he could see some kind of gold and jewels glinting in the darkness, closer than they were two skeletons. They were still and silent, which relieved Hal immensely, they looked noble lying with their boney hands across their ribcages, encircled with riches of old. He went to have a closer look, the swords they held were, under the dirt, well made and things of beauty, even Hal could tell that, and he was no expert.

Bullroarer called Hal away to see to the horses, reluctantly, he went. Outside the wind was biting cold, the ponies stood patiently while Hal fixed a blanket to each, he did his own Fallor last, Dad wouldn't be best pleased if he knew I put other ponies before his own he thought to himself as he struggled to fix the final blanket with his numb fingers.

That done, he went back into the relative warmth of the barrow where a small fire had been started, around it sat Bullroarer, Branda, Carl, Dinodas, Lotho and Giles. The rest were either outside doing some chore or other or were amid the gloom, searching through the jewels or just satiating their curiosity.

Hal sat himself next to Dinodas at the fire, getting as close to it as he could without burning himself. The snow which had gathered all about Hal slowly melted, leaving him wet in some most uncomfortable places. He got himself a blanket and wrapped it around himself. He brought his knees up and rested his chin on them and dozed. He was so very tired, the past few nights had been very harsh in comparison to their soft beds in Whitfurrows. Perhaps tonight he would get a better rest.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* At first, Giles huddled silent around the fire. For awhile, there was only the immediacy of shivered misty breath, raw windbitten hands, and tingling feet. He relaxed into a warm sleepy clamminess punctuated by the clock-like dripping thaw of ice crystals on his cloak into puddled shadow. Giles looked up to wave at Hal and smile a friendly greeting as Hal joined Bullroarer, Branda, Carl, Dinodas, Lotho and himself. *

* Rising and stretching, Giles unclasped his damp wool cloak, which at any rate was good at holding in the heat no matter how wet it became. The brown cloak fell in a muffled heap. The air within the mound of the noble dead of old wavered with a chill, but there was no evil in it. The chill was as thin as the safely calm flicker by which a candle-flame reassures itself that it will be relit tomorrow, even as loved ones say good-night, draw the curtains, and prepare to put it out. *

Safe to explore, is it, Master Bullroarer? I won't go too far, or touch too much.

* Giles bowed at Bullroarer's nod, an expansive nod communicating both cautionary permission toward Giles, and reverence toward the dead. *

* Content in the hushed half-light, Giles padded through the barrow's belly holding his breath as though this place were the eldest of mathom houses. Metal and jewel glinted at firelight's touch. Bone rested, letting the light alone but offering no resistance. Gorgeous gold, stunning silver, radiant rubies, dazzling diamonds, effervescent emeralds, alluring amethyst, sapphires of blue and yellow, pearl ... pearl from the faraway Sea! *

* Giles bent down over a warrior's form. Swords, shields, helmets, all hopelessly too big. Then his eyes lit on some nearby daggers. Removing one from its clean black sheath, he gasped with an indrawing of breath. Serpents! Serpents of gold and red, like small dragons. Imposing, magnificent, with a sturdy hilt and a blade cold to the touch and with a masterfully-crafted sharpness to the edge. Now here was something Giles could use. He bowed towards its former bearer. *

Just borrowing it, is all, * the Hobbit whispered, * I'll bring it back, if I live.

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tomba's eyes blazed bright as he stared about the Barrow. He had never in his life seen so many precious things so carelessly tossed about in this corner and that. Golden circlets, emerald brooches, swords agleem with inlaid jewels, and even one shirt made of mithril..... He could not even begin to guess what measure of wealth and beauty lay here. And, best of all, there seemed to be no one to guard it.

The lad had been so poor so long. Perhaps, this was the answer to all his hopes and dreams. Respect and riches were his for the taking. Tomba imagined himself showing off a fine smial to all the hobbits in the Shire, perhaps one even grander than the halls belonging to the Tooks or Brandybucks.

Cautiously, Tomba pulled aside from the group and began stuffing his pockets with gemstones that lay scattered about the floor in one of the antechambers. The lad's breeches were bulging out, and he made strange rattling noises as he walked.

Branda and Lotho came in to the chamber to see if there might be space for the ponies to find some shelter for the night. Lotho took one look at Branda, and pointed an accusing finger at the boy, shaking his head in consternation.

Branda leapt forward and grabbed Tomba by the collar. "Spit it out now. All of it. Have you lost your wits?"

"Why not?," Tomba retorted. "I'm poor and hungry, and it's here for the taking," as he began to empty out his pockets, but only very reluctantly.

Branda turned to him with angry eyes, "In the first place, this is worthless in the Shire right now. Starving families need food in their bellies, not jewels. All the riches in the world will not buy food when there's none to be had."

"Second, do not be so sure there is no one here to guard this Barrow. My grandmother told me tales, terrible stories filled with horror, of thieves who tried to make their way out with riches as you are doing. No guard pursued them during the day, but when they laid down to sleep they were dragged into a world of shadows, never to awaken again. What you chance for yourself when you are alone is one thing, but what you try to get away with when we are all together is another."

"Put it all back. Shame on you Tomba, shame!" A few of the hobbits had crept into the chamber, and were shaking, not from the snow and ice of winter, but from the frigid cold that invaded their hearts at the hard words of Branda's speech.

"Is there any way that we could use these riches to aid us in our quest? For we are trying to bring food to hungry folk in the Shire, and need all the help we can get." Carl asked his question while looking directly at Branda, then added a second query. "What would your grandmother say?"

Branda looked thoughtfully into the darkness and hesitated a minute before answering. "She did indeed speak of such things. For my own kin used to dwell not far from the forest haunts of the Elves, and we even heard rumors of their wisdom and tales."

"According to the ancient lore, we may search through the riches to find those swords and knives that bear Elven runes upon them. For these works of craftsmanship may be safely gathered and returned to the people who created them. Since we ourselves visit the Elves, these would be worthy gifts to present to our hosts."

"It might also be allowed to take one single object where there is great need, with the intention of returning it later. Beyond that, however, I could not say."

Branda went on, seaking to the entire group of hobbits. "I do not think Bullroarer would object if each of you searched for a single object of Elven craftsmanship, and brought it to him. You must look carefully for the strange runes that are engraved in the metal. This will tell you what objects are safe to touch."

Branda pulled a ring out of a large pile of jewelry that lay nearby and pointed to some fine lettering, "See these runes. This is what you must search for. Then Bullroarer can select from all the objects gathered and decide what would be most fitting to return to our hosts in grateful thanks for their food and assistance. Go now and look, but do so with great caution."

[ January 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl huddled beneath the blanket on the dusty ground. She looked up amazed in the dim light at the male-hobbits conversing above about Elvish runes and treasures. Around her the jewels and weapons gleamed and glistened.

She pulled her blanket around her shoulders and stood. She took a deep breath and stepped toward a pile of jewels and weapons that were all to big and royal for her. With a smile, she picked up a small dagger with Elvish runes written down the side of the blade. The handle had large emeralds and rubies encrusted in it. She thought that it would be to heavy, for it was not made for a hobbit, but it was very light and easy to wield.

With a slightly tight grasp on the blade, she walked over to Bullroarer. She looked to the hobbit who was just slightly taller than she. He was looking around at all of the other hobbits already scavenging. "Mr. Bullroarer Sir?" She said as she tapped on his shoulder.

"Hmm… What Dafodyl?" He looked down at her, and she lifted the blade.

"Well, I thought that the Elves might like this back. It has a wonderfully carved handle with rubies and emeralds in it. And look here! There are the Elvish runes. That language looks so graceful!" He looked impatiently at him, and she continued, "Oh! Well, I think you should look at it. I think they would really like it." She held the blade higher, and waited for his response.

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer took the dagger from Daffodyl's hands and examined it. He was by no means an expert on Elven metal work, but he could see this was finely done, and very beautiful. He cleared his throat for attention and held the blade up for the other companions to see.

'Come take a look at what Daffodyl has found.' The Hobbits grouped around him, and passed the blade from hand to hand. 'While we're here, let's see what few items we can find with similar writing and designs on it. I think if we cleaned them up a bit, they might make a small token of appreciation for Elrond and his people - to show our gratitude for sharing their food and supplies with us.'

He went outside to the wagon and carried in a moderate sized, wooden box with a close fitting lid. 'Now we don't want to get carried away and take too many of the treasures left here with these men.' he said, setting the box on the barrow floor. 'Just take a few of the smaller, nicely done ones. We'll polish them up and bring them with us to Rivendell.'

He held up a hand as the Hobbits were breaking up to look through the heaps of objects. 'Hal and Gaddy - can you first bring the ponies in and see about penning them somehow to one side of the barrow. Robin, Dinodas, and Branda - see to the bringing in of the cooking utensils and our food; we wouldn't want any nosy animals sniffing about what few provisions we have. Giles, perhaps you, Carl, and Autumn can scout for a little firewood and get a small cooking fire going - maybe just outside the entrance. Daisy and Tomba, we'll start dinner. The rest of you get all the sleeping rolls and packs stowed inside here. Once we're all squared away, we'll look through the items in the barrow for suitable ones for the Elves.'

Soon, all the Hobbits were busy at their tasks. Bullroarer had Daisy and Tomba organised and working on their own. They were melting snow in two large pots - one for tea and one for soup. Both were busy cutting up dried meats and vegetables and making a game of throwing them in the pot.

Bullroarer called Lotho over to him, and had him look closely at the Elven worked blade. 'You have a good eye for merchandise - perhaps you can take a first look-see about and see what prizes you might turn up.'

Lotho nodded his head 'yes'. Taking a small lantern from his pack and lighting it, he soon found himself busy at a promising mound of glittering metals and jewels.

Bullroarer returned to the sight of the soupmaking, just in time to snatch the bag of salt from Tomba's hands. 'A little lighter, if you will on the salt, Master Tomba! It's as precious as gems these days, since the snow has cut off the regular flow of trade from the coast.'

Tomba grinned and shrugged his shoulders at the frowning older Hobbit. Daisy looked up with a smirk, and a small laugh. 'I told you you'ld get in trouble!'

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Going out the entryway to seek suitably dry firewood, Giles Harfoot's head snapped around despite himself on hearing Bullroarer's words to Tomba about salt. Salt. Now That's what he wanted. More precious than gems, indeed! For salt, like the red-gold serpent dagger he'd borrowed from the noble warrior, could come in handy. Salt had other uses besides flavoring. Salt could melt ice, for one thing, so he'd been told. Giles wished for salt to fall from the sky, enough salt to melt all the snow, and sighed. *

* As for the dagger, Giles found himself growing attached to the weapon in the strangest of ways. Yes, he'd return it as he said. But Giles wanted the dagger to be his secret, without Bullroarer, or Branda, or anyone hovering around. And his dagger, well his borrowed dagger, would not go to the Elves. In fact, Giles cared not to cart fancy treasure to Rivendell. He was a more practical down-to-earth Hobbit, only on this adventure because he'd drawn the short straw, after all. And promised to return the dagger. *

* In the distance, Gaddy and Autumn called for Giles, singsonging that he was dilly-dallying. Even the Bullroarer had noticed his daydreaming, and was about to tap him on the shoulder so he'd move from his position blocking the doorway. Giles finally spoke what was on his mind. *

About toting treasure to the Elves, Master Bullroarer. I prefers to earn things with my own hands. As a carpenter, be glad to mend loose hinges on their doors, build cabinets, repair dresser drawers, all manner of things. Everyday things, if you take my meaning.

* Giles' heartfelt speech was interrupted by an incoming snowball hitting him squarely in the chest. He laughed, bowed to Bullroarer, and ran out to catch up with Autumn and Carl. *

* Giles felt his vest pocket protectively. Salt shaker and pepper shaker still intact from that time they'd had oatmeal for breakfast at the inn. Good. *

[ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Nurumaiel]

Dinodas sat close to the fire, shivering, and every so often glancing at Robin, who was digging through the different treasures. He crawled over to her and whispered in her ear, "Don't take anything."

She started and turned to see who had spoken to her, glaring when she realized who it was. "Dinodas Green!" she cried. "Well, I won't! I'm just looking. Now you can leave me alone."

"That's what you think," said Dinodas, settling himself down next to her. "But what I think is that you'd take what you could if no one were watching you."

Robin sat back and thought for a minute, and then said, "Maybe I would if these belonged to the living, but I would never steal from the dead."

"Disrespectful to steal from the dead, but bad to steal from the living, who will actually care if one of their treasures is taken," said Dinodas wisely.

Robin rolled her eyes. "Well, think about it, Dindoas," she said. "If these swords and such belonged to the living, we'd need them more than they, wouldn't we?"

"We have our own weapons."

"These are better than our own. We'd need them more than they would," Robin persisted.

Standing up and moving back to the fire, Dinodas said over his shoulder, "It's still wrong, whether you steal from the living or the dead." Sitting next to Hal, he gave a friendly grin to the lad and tried desperately to warm himself.

Robin did not follow him, but she did not touch the treasures for the rest of their stay.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Miles from the hobbits another pup had perished. It was one of Nimue's and for the whole day she had been distraught. Her head bowed and her eyes empty. She staggered behind Roth and Ragnarok.

They had tried to devour her child, the hunger upon them was so great but she had stood astride it's frozen form and howled in agony. Even Ragnarok did not take her on. He knew it was no challenge to his authority. He would merely remember where it lay and if no other creature claimed it once they had bedded down for the night would come back and take it for himself. It was no longer his son. It was a meal.

They had skirted the edge of civilisation for some time but no animals had been left out in the fields since the sheep that Roth had taken several nights ago. They survived upon carrion: the bodies of others who had perished in such harsh conditions.

As night fell Ragnarok barked sharply and nodded his huge head toward the orange glow of a lamp, hung upon a hook. They stood recklessly close to some farm buildings. Their hunger had brought them into the world of their enemies. They could smell and hear the livestock. A chicken coop was just a few bounds ahead of them. Roth padded forward and looked about the yard, illuminated by the lamp. Nimue was still despondant and unwilling to join with them. She held back with the two remaining pups.

They were starving. They had no choice. They had to attack the farm.

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy had followed everyone into the barrow and was shocked to see that it had skeletons and treasures of all kinds laying around. Bullroarer had instructed her to help Tomba get dinner started and she would be allowed to look around the barrow.

After starting dinner Daisy began looking around at all of the treasures. The jewels were beautiful but of no help on this trip besides it felt strange to take something from the dead that she could not use. As she walked around she noticed an eleven shield that unfortunately was broken. Daisy looked at it a little closer, it was still useable by a hobbit so she decided to take it to Bullroarer and see what he thought about her taking and using it for protection while they were on the road.

She picked up the shield and headed back to the group, feeling just a little safer with everyone around her. She wasn’t quite sure why but for some reason she just didn’t feel safe right now. She went to find Hal and Gaddy because when she was with them she always felt a little better. Maybe it was because Gaddy always found a way to make her smile and forget how bad things could be.

Daisy got back to group and checked on dinner. It was just about ready, so she called everybody to the fire so that they could sit down and eat. When Bullroarer got there she handed him the shield she had found and let him examine it. As she ate her dinner she waited for her uncle to tell her if it would be okay for her to take the shield with her when they left the barrow.

[Galadel Vinorel]

As Autumn heard Daisy call that dinner was ready she quickly ran and grapped her bowl from her sack, and joined the line waiting for stew. As Tomba, trying to be very careful, slowly poured the stew into her bowl, the hobbit lass smiled down at the young hobbit boy. He remined her a lot of her little brother, who was always getting into mischief and such, but still was a very sweet little boy. "Thank you, Tomba," Autumn said, a grin on her face, after the younger hobbit had finished pouring her stew. Then Autumn went and joined Dinodas and Robin near the fire.

Sitting down to enjoy her supper, Autumn suddenly yelled and jumped back up, nearly spilling her bowl that she had just sat down on the ground. Looking down at where she had just tried to sit down, she discovered that a short sword in a scabbard lay there. Glancing over angrily at Dinodas, who was trying not to laugh, Autumn seized the short sword and lightly tossed it over to him. Then Autumn sat down, her face still slightly red.

As Autumn began to eat her soup, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Giles approaching her. Laughing to herself, Autumn took the short sword back from Dinodas, and, just as Giles was about to sit down, placed it on the log next to her. Giles unexpectedly sat down on the sword and then jumped right back up with a holler. The hobbits in the cave turned around, surprised, twice now in just a few minutes.

Giles then grabbed the sword, a grin forming on his face, and tossed it over to Dinodas, who just smiled and pointed to Autumn. Autumn began to eat her soup again, a smile on her face, and Giles sat down next to her and poked her in the side. Autumn laughed, slightly choking on her food, and grinned over at the other hobbit.

Looking down at her feet, Autumn noticed something that had fallen out of Giles' pocket; his salt container. Silently, the hobbit lass picked the container off the floor and handed it to Giles, who slipped it quickly into his pocket. Then they all settled down to enjoy their dinner.

[ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Lotho stared about the barrow intently. Most of these artifacts were priceless, it was true. Glittering swords, shields, daggers, jewels.. but none of them were Elvish, or anything remotely appropriate to present to Elrond's folk. Most of the items, in Lotho's eyes, brought up unpleasant memories of death and war: something, he had heard, that Rivendell was free of.

As he moved the lamp, a glint of sparkling white caught his eye. He set the lamp down and looked for the source of the flash: it was a very fine necklace with a pendant of a white lily on it, lying in the midst of a rubble of metal. There was no doubt about it: it must be Elvish. He picked it up gently, half-afraid that he would snap it, and laid it next to him.

Maybe more Elvish treasures were buried in this rubble. He sifted through the pile of dull metals until something jabbed his hand. He yelped in pain and drew his hand back immediately, and with the other, gently picked up the object that had pricked him. He held it to the lamplight, staring at it in wonder. It was a precisely crafted brooch of a slender leaf. He turned it over, and very fine, small lines were lightly carved into the back of it. Were they Elvish? This could be a find too. Cradling it carefully in his hand with the necklace he got up to find the Bullroarer to ask him.

[ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

[piosenniel]

Lotho approached Bullroarer just as supper was done. The Took was just pouring himself another cup of sweet-spice tea, when Lotho cleared his throat and motioned him aside with a nod of his head. ‘About those ‘”treasures” you wanted me to sift through. I’ve given a cursory glance to what’s here – mostly items made by Men. Not really fitting, I think though for the Elves of Rivendell.’ He glanced sideways at Bullroarer to see how his next comments would be received.

‘On the other hand, should we decide to take a few of the “items” with us, I think we could all turn a good profit, in due time of course, and with the proper person to handle the transactions.’ Bullroarer shook his head ‘no’ at this idea, saying that the baubles of the Big Folk should stay here. Lotho reluctantly agreed, and went on.

‘I did find these two among the others. Elven made, I think. Lovely enough though to bring to Elrond.’ He handed the necklace and the leaf to Bullroarer.

A small gasp escaped the Took as he held the necklace up to the light. Narwe! he said smiling, ‘Sweet lily.’ He saw the look of astonishment on the other Hobbit’s face. ‘The Fallohide blood runs strongly in the Tooks. Oft times my family would have Elven guests as they passed down the Great Road, heading for the Grey Havens. My first pony was named Lily.’ He held the necklace aloft again, letting the metal catch the glimmer from the lanterns.

It slipped from his hands, and with a cry, Lotho reached out to catch it. His hand grasped air and the necklace fell to the ground against a small rocky outcropping. Bullroarer crouched down and retrieved it. ‘No damage, Lotho. Don’t worry. How could there be? He pulled on the fine links of the chain. ‘It’s mithril.’

He placed the necklace in the pocket of his vest for safekeeping, and turned back to look at the leaf. ‘Now this is lovely work, indeed!’ he murmured, his eyes shining. ‘I cannot read the Elven script here on the back, but I take this for a likeness of the leaves of Telperion, the Silver Tree of Valinor.’ He cradled the leaf in his large hand, and let Lotho see how the silvery surface caught the light and threw it out in soft white rays, like the radiance of the Moon. Taking a clean handkerchief from his breeches’ pocket, he placed both the necklace and the leaf within and tied it securely, placing the entire package in the box he had brought in.

‘Excellent eye, Lotho! I knew I could count on you. Let’s look around a bit more to see what else of Elven design we can find this evening. Though, I think that what you’ve brought me will make even the dourest of Elves smile in delight.’

Bullroarer clapped his hands to get the attention of the rest of the companions. ‘I do not think these dead warriors would mind if we armed ourselves against the dangers of the road. There are still some perilous places we must pass through, and I want us all to be prepared.’ He pointed at Dinodas and Daisy. ‘Bring me that weapon and shield you two are holding.’ He held up the short blade and the small shield. ‘While you’re looking for pretty Elven things, I want you each to pick a weapon that will fit you, and a shield if you so desire. Helmets would be nice, though I think they will mostly be too big for us. Knives are useful, as are the short blades like this.’

He handed the blade and the shield back. ‘Stow away the dishes and pots. Let’s look now among the treasures and gifts for the dead, before it gets too late. I want us well rested this night. We will be up early tomorrow and on our way to Bree.’ He placed the box in a prominent place, reminding the Hobbits to stow the Elven made objects there.

Bullroarer walked over to Hall and Gaddy as they sat spooning up the last of the soup. ‘Can you two lads see to the ponies – muck out their area, give them water, and a little feed, then come join us in our hunt.’

[dragoneyes]

Hal walked over to the ponies, they had been quickly roped off in another chamber. They certainly looked warmer than they had outside and were quietly standing or sniffing the ground for any sign of grass. Presently Gaddy came over carrying two pots of melted snow, Hal untied the top rope to let him past, then went off to collect two more pots.

Gaddy put the pots on the floor and the ponies immediately took interest. The first two started drinking, taking huge gulps of water. Just as well they're big pots Gaddy thought to himself, looking in astonishment at the amount each was drinking. Hal came in, stepping over the lower rope, carrying two more pots of water. Together, they brought the ponies more water and some food. While the ponies were busy eating and drinking, Hal got two shovels, handed one to Gaddy and they proceeded to muck out the area.

That done, they tied the rope back up and went to see how the search for weapons was going. Gaddy went strait over to where Daisy was,
"Found anything to go with your sheild yet?" he said, Daisy looked up from her search and looked at Gaddy,
"No, not yet." she said,
"Mind if I join you then?"
"Of course not!" she replyed smiling. Gaddy knelt next to her and began to search for weapons himself. Hal soon came and placed himself on Gaddy's other side. A few minutes passed before a small "Ah-ha!" emitted from Gaddy, Hal looked over to him, he had made a hole going down into the pile as far as he could reach and now he was lying on his front reaching as far as he could to get something from the very bottom of his hole.
"Need some help there?" Asked Hal,
"No no! I've almost got it." As he said that, he managed to get a good grip around it's sheath and he began working it out of the tangle of metal.

He finally got it out and was able to give it a good look, the sheath was silver, except for a gold vine winding around it, Gaddy pulled it out of it's sheath, the blade itself was clean and sharp, and glittered in the light. It wasn't too long, nor was it too heavy, Gaddy gazed at it, then gave it a little swing, careful not to hit anyone.
"It's a pity I don't know how to use it properly." He said.

[ January 05, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Merri]

Carl rummaged through the pile, looking for something that might prove useful to him in the future. What was the good of a jewel if you couldn't use it? It'd only add on unnecessary weight in one's bag, and that was the last thing he needed, as he was already fairly exhausted, despite the party.

At last he found a little knife. It was still quite sharp, and on its handle there were handsome jewels and intricate carvings.

I can use this for whittling, he decided, and admired its beauty in the sunlight.

[ January 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

After fishing her meal, Autumn moved to a pile of weapons and jewels in th econer and began rumaging. She was not exactely sure what she was looking for, but she wanted to find something to help her defend herself as they travelled to Rivendell. Digging through a pile of jewels, a sudden light from the bottom of the pile caught the hobbit's eye, and she reached down and picked the object up.

In Autumn's hand now lay a small knife with diamonds set in the handle in the shape of a half moon. Along the blade were written runes in the Westron language in a fine red color. These ran up and down the knife and seem to tell the life story of its previous owner. It felt very light in her hand, and so Autumn decided to take it with her and began to search for a scabbard to put it in.

While going through the pile the hobbit lass discovered a smal scabard, with only one marking one it, lying near the bottom. The scabbard, which was the perfect size for the knife, had a line of ivy engraved on it in silver. Fitting the knife firmly into the newfoud scabbard, Autumn strapped them onto her side and began to rumage once again in search of some nice gifts to present to the Elves when the company arrived in Rivendell.

[ January 05, 2003: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* A shield! Why hadn't Giles thought of that? Probably, because Giles was the agile type, fond of cartwheels, somersaults, backflips, long jumps, climbing, tumbling, balancing. More natural to spring out of the way of danger, not drag around a large clunky mathom only good for cringing behind. *

* But still, maybe a shield would come in handy. Giles softly pattered back to the solemnity of the innermost treasure-chamber with the great Men lying in state, bowing as he came. He picked up a small round shield that he remembered seeing before. It was very plain, just silvery-steel on the front, with two red handles set inside on the back. Nothing that an Elf would want as a treasure-present. But it might make for a worthy sled to slide down a snowy hillside. Or, you could attach a rope to one of the handles, and use the sled to pull supplies over flat ground. *

* Giles nodded acceptance of this extra burden. *

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tomba had finished his chores, and now came plodding along dutifully next to Branda to search for more Elven treasure. As the two hobbits walked, the elder one draped an arm over the boy's shoulder and leaned over to talk with him confidentially , "We don't mean to be tough on you. I know things were bad where you came from, with your kin dead, and no place to go. Something like that can make a person do funny things."

"But you've got responsibilities to these folks now. You have to think of more than just yourself."

Tomba stared at the ground and sighed, "I'll try. I will. Only sometimes it's hard."

"There's something else," Tomba confided to the older hobbit as his eyes darted nervously around the Barrow. "I really don't like this place. It gives me the creeps."

"You're not the only one," Branda confirmed, peering deep into the dark recesses of the mound. "It may be warm, but I'm not sure how much sleep I can get here."

"But there is one thing both you and I could use, and I don't think the brave warriors here would begrudge us, since we have an honest need to defend ourselves."

"My own knife's mainly been used for cleaning fish and cutting lines, and wouldn't do much good at defending us from Orcs. And yours is even worse. It's so small you'd be lucky to make a prick in their hides. Let's find something nice and plain and sharp that feels good to the touch. Nothing fancy. Just something that would stand us in good stead if we face another attack on the road."

They ploughed through the mass of treasure in a portion of the Barrow where no one had searched before. Tomba had a knack for finding such things and came up with two good daggers of Mannish origin, perhaps dating as far back as Numenor. They were simple, straightforward weapons but well made and with good balance, easy for both hobbits to handle. Tomba also found a copper circlet with gemstones designed for a lady's head, intricately shaped and with Elvish runes on the back. He pulled this out to give to Bullroarer.

Finally, in the furthest corner of the Barrow, right against the darkest wall, the boy came upon something half hidden. It was a tattered leather quiver, which he quickly flung onto his lap, curious to see what was inside. Branda rushed over and wrenched it from his hands. "Don't touch those things. They could be dangerous."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Look at that quiver. That didn't belong to any Man or Elf or Dwarf. I've got a bad feeling about this. Just look at the markings on it. It could be Orcish, and if it is, those arrows probably have poison on the tips."

"Are there Orcs buried here," Tomba asked, looking around even more nervously.

"Not buried here, but my guess is that they spent the night, just as we're doing, and then got called out unexpectedly and were caught in an ambush so they never hauled treasure away, or even come back for their own weapons." He pointed towards some massive but crude rusting swords which were heaped together not far from where the quiver was found.

Branda picked up the quiver very carefully, being carefully not to touch what was inside. He stood a minute and debated. He would never use such a weapon against a Man or Elf or Dwarf, even if he was an enemy. But against a warg or an Orc, the harbingers of darkness....that might be another matter.

For one fleeting instant, Branda imagined himself the hero of the group, arrows flying straight and true, bringing down a savage beast with a single shot from this quiver. How the folk back home would cheer when they heard of it. Then he shook his head and almost laughed, Branda, you fool, you're not the best archer in this lot. Plus you're not even sure if these actually have poisoned tips. You're guessing it from Granny's tales. First, bring the quiver to Bullroarer. He knows a bit more about Orcs than you do. If the arrows are real, they should probably go to someone in the group who's a crack archer, perhaps Bullroarer himself or a huntsman like Carl. You're not bad with a bow, but you're not in that league. And when wargs come howling at us, we need the best man to have these.

Branda called back over his shoulder, "Tomba, get us a spot to bed down as close to the fire as you can. I'll bring this circlet to Bullroarer, and let him know you found it. And I'll ask about these," he said lifting the quiver up, but very gingerly. Then he quickly disappeared.

Best get this over, before I get any more illusions of grandeur or an attack of stupidity, and think about changing my mind.

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer tossed and turned in his bedroll. Too much to think about. Still too many dangers to worry about on the road ahead. Tomorrow shouldn’t be bad, though, he reassured himself. They would return to the Great East Road and travel to Bree. Stay at the Prancing Pony, he thought. His mouth watered at the thought of a pint of the Pony’s nut brown ale and a leisurely smoke, with feet propped up on the hearth, in front of a lovely fire in the Common Room fireplace.

He pushed down further beneath his blankets. Despite the shelter of the barrow, it was still cold, and he rubbed his feet together to warm them. Wide awake, he thought with pleasure about the treasures they had found to bring to Elrond. It had made him uncomfortable when they first started out that they should go begging to their neighbors to the southeast. But now they had some small things to offer in return for the Elves’ graciousness.

The companions had done well in finding some small weapons for themselves. It would at least give them some courage and boost their spirits to go on. He sighed, knowing that should they face any large dangers, the company would be hard put to survive it. A thought came to him, and he nudged Branda, who lay huddled not too far from him.

‘Are you awake? I need to tell you something.’ The other Hobbit groaned and opened one bleary eye to the Took. ‘I’m awake now. Is something happening? Is it morning? Should we get the others up?’ He sat up, looking toward Bullroarer’s form in the darkness.

‘No, it’s not day yet. I want you to remind me of something before we start out tomorrow. I have a number of thick branches stowed in the wagon, enough for each of us to have one. They have a good coating of pitch at one end and will blaze up hot and bright when we light them. We may need them should we find ourselves facing another danger. I want the others to know where they are and what they’re for.’

Branda sat there in silence. Taking it as an assent, Bullroarer said, ‘That’s all! You can go back to sleep now.’ He rolled over, his mind peaceful and dropped off to dreaming. Branda shook his head, muttered slightly to himself, and crawled back under his blankets.

Bullroarer nudged him again. 'One more thing. I've been thinking over those arrows you found. You're right. They are of Orcish origin and should go to one of the more experienced bowmen. Though, I don't think I want the other companions to have to deal with them. Make them too queasy and possibly hesitant to use them if they thought they were Orcish.

I'll keep them if you don't mind. I did bring a bow, though I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. Once we are out in the open - past Bree, I'll keep it closer by me, along with these arrows.' Bullroarer sighed in the dark, and sent a small plea that there would be no call to use them.

Branda sighed, and held his breath, waiting for "just one more thought" to come issuing from the Took. But soon, all he heard was the gentle rumbling of a snore from his direction. Once more, Branda crawled beneath his blankets and sought sleep.

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

The Hobbits were up early, eager to leave the barrow behind them. A hasty breakfast, and a quick packing saw them heading back north to the road. Bullroarer was the last to leave the barrow, making sure nothing was left behind. He stowed the box with the Elven gifts below his seat in the wagon. Pausing briefly before climbing aboard, he turned toward the barrow and placed his right hand over his heart, in the manner of the Elves and the Men of Old.

‘Thank you.’ he murmured. ‘May your rest now remain undisturbed.’ A small breeze from the north, picked up his words and carried them in its cold hands.

Late afternoon found the companions at the West-Gate of Bree. The Gatekeeper inquired about their business, and waved them in, shutting the gate firmly behind them. A further half mile down the road and they entered the courtyard of the Prancing Pony.

Smiles lit up the faces of the Hobbits. Bullroarer had them bring the wagon to the stable. All the ponies were put into stalls, and the Took gave the stable girl a silver penny to see to their good care. She beamed at him, saying they would be fat and sassy and coats gleaming when the companions left the next day.

Bullroarer took the box with the Elven gifts into the Inn, and paid for a number of Hobbit sized rooms to accommodate their group. Soon the packs were stored in the rooms and the Hobbits met downstairs to look for a bite to eat and something other than melted snow to slake their thirst. Bullroarer ordered drinks all around for the companions, and some bread and cheese to tide them over to supper.

Tankard in hand, smoke rings flying upward in the heat of the fire, Bullroarer sat at ease just as he’d hoped. He sighed in contentment from the simple pleasures – ale, pipeweed, the warmth of the fire on his feet, and the relaxed, smiling faces of his companions.

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Merri]

Carl had hardly slept a wink last night, and was greatly looking forward to having a soft bed to sleep on. Though he was used to sleeping out of doors, the Barrows still gave him the creeps. He had had the sense of being somewhere where he shouldn't be, as if he were a young hobbit about to be caught redhanded by his mother.

Greatly heartened by the thought of ale, good food, and a warm bed, Carl began preparing himself for a hearty meal, and felt much more cheerful than he ever had.

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Merri ]

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer raised his pint to his lips, already feeling the satisfying, cool march of the liquid down his throat. Nothing! It was dry, not a drop left in it. Who could have drunk it?

He looked at the fire, which had burnt down to a small blaze, and laughed. Lost in his ruminations of what needed to be done to get the companions on the road tomorrow, he must have drunk the whole pint dry without realizing it.

Heaving himself up from his comfortable position, he went looking for the Innkeeper. He found him, crouched down behind the bar, inventorying the cordials and wines on hand. 'I say, good Sir,' said Bullroarer, leaning over the bar, 'have you any more of this good ale? Its thirsty work, sitting there by your fire!'

He hummed to himself as he watched the Innkeeper fill the tankard from the barrel. Smiling, as he took it from him, Bullroarer leaned in toward the man, saying in a low voice, 'What news have you had of the Road ahead? We'll be leaving in the morning, bound East a fair way. is there anything we should be looking out for?'

[Nurumaiel]

Robin settled herself down by the fire in delight, while Dinodas went off to get a meal. He soon came back, carrying a plate for her, as well. "It's so wonderful to have a warm fire again!" Robin said contentedly. "If I close my eyes, I almost feel as though I were back home, sitting in front of the fire on a cold winter night, with mother cooking a wonderful meal, and father sitting and smoking his pipe."

"Have you ever wished on this terrible journey of ours that you were back home?" asked Dinodas, handing Robin her plate.

"I have, in the worst of times," Robin admitted. "But if my wishes had come true, and I had gone back home, then I would have regretted it for a hundred years. And it's not a terrible journey," she added. "If it were a terrible journey there would be only death and sorrow, not any of the fun and laughter we've experienced along the road. What about the snowball fight, and Daisy's birthday?"

"Oh, the snowball fight was fun at first, but it turned out to be a nightmare for me. I was the one - " Dinodas suddenly stopped speaking and glanced at Bullroarer. Lowering his voice, he finished, "I was the one who hit Bullroarer in the face with my snowball."

"It turned out all right," said Robin. "He wasn't angry."

"He could have been, and, oh, through the seconds when he sat there with a startled expression, and we were thinking he'd kill the one who did it..." Dinodas shuddered.

Laughing, Robin began to eat. Dinodas looked over to where Lotho was sitting. "You know," he said slowly, "nobody ever talks to Lotho. I wonder if he's ever been lonely on this journey of ours."

Robin looked at him in surprised. "Lonely? Of course not. He's just an old crank."

Dinodas looked at her with more surprise then she could ever have. "Well, maybe he's not lonely, but I'm sure there are times he wishes someone would talk to him. And he's not an old crank. Only to all you young girls, because... you're so... young... and.... girly?"

Robin gave him a nasty look, but didn't do anything as she was still absorbed in eating her meal.

Dinodas stood up and walked hesitantly over to Lotho, his mind filling with doubts. What if Lotho was an old crank? What if he yelled at Dinodas and beat him? Or what if he was really a Sackville-Baggins in disguise? A smile appeared on Dinodas' face. Of course not!

"Mr. Lotho, sir," said Dinodas quietly. "Well, I haven't spoken to you yet, but now's just a good a time as any. I figured that while we're safe and warm here in the inn, I might introduce myself." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Dinodas Green."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda had come down to the common room to have a bite to eat and a pint to wash it down. At least on the surface, it looked to be a cozy, comfortable scene with Men and Hobbits sitting near each other and enjoying the fine home-cooked meals that the Inn had prepared. Both the big and the little folk were sitting at their tables and eating their dinners as fast as they could.

This was one of the few Inns around that always seemed to be able to get provisions, even in the toughest of times. Branda had once heard a rumor about how they managed this rare feat in a time of blizzard and famine. He'd heard rumors that the Rangers in the area made a special point of looking out for the Inn, and guaranteeing that, one way or another, food would be found and gotten though to the Prancing Pony. Branda had also heard that the Rangers made this Inn their special headquarters and that it had a secret room in the back where Rangers came to rest and relax.

Branda wondered what a human Ranger looked like. He'd certainly never seen one. His friend had told him they wore special cloaks to hide their faces, and grew to nearly eight feet tall. He'd even heard there were very special hobbits who sometimes served as Rangers. What would such hobbits look like? He couldn't even guess.

He turned his head from side to side, trying to see if there were any strange-looking people who fit those descriptions. But he saw no one who looked suspicious or were wearing cloaks to conceal their features. And even the big folk didn't seem to be eight feet tall.

Some spirit of mischief seized him. A little voice inside his head kept saying: Go sneak in the back and look for that room and see if there are any strange folk there. Suddenly, he couldn't resist. He was glad Tomba was asleep in the room, and wasn't here to watch him look foolish. Fine thing! He spent half his time leturing Tom on the need for responsibility, and here he was taking off on some fool's errand just to see if the rumors in the Shire were true.

Branda got up as quietly as he could and walked around to the back of the bar, the place where barrels of ale and vats of wine were stored and brought out onto the floor of the common room. It led towards what looked like a large, dark storage closet. If I were going to hide a secret room , I'd probably put it here, he mused.

He crept silently towards the storage area, and was about to let himself in when he felt a tickling near his left ear. He turned about abrupty and was shocked to find himself staring into the face of Bullroarer. Branda cowered just a bit, and wondered what would come next.