Chapter 7: Chasing the Wind
Maegdin and the rest of the company follow Tom up the path beside the Withywindle. The afternoon sun warms their bodies and spirits as they go, and any unease they may have felt from the Forest doesn't seem to touch them. Suddenly, they come the end of the trees as suddenly as if they have stepped out through a hedge. The path winds on before them, up a small hill, then down into a dell, and then up again onto a higher hill, behind which the shoulders of the Barrow-downs stalk away into the East.
On the hilltop stands a small house. The young river flows down beside the path over a series of short falls. As they follow Tom up the last slope, the door of the house opens and a woman clad in green steps over the threshold to greet them. Tom gives a great halloo and laughs. 'There's my pretty lady, then; there's my fair Goldberrry, clad all in silver-green with flowers in her girdle! Is the table laden, love? Is the supper ready?' Goldberry laughs, a sound like rain falling into silver pools. 'It is,' she says. 'Come, dear friends! Come within and lay aside your burdens!'
Bialver has been walking as though in a daze, but as they come to the house his nostrils flare "Oven?" he mutters
Minabel sweats a bit.
Bialver nudges Trumodir "Bakstrofn!" he whispers.
Trumodir sniffs deeply and growls with pleasure: the inside of the house smells like plants! "How wonderful!", she says to herself
Adaldag enters the house and looks around, then moves over to the fire to dry off since he is still pretty wet from his fall into the river.
Minabel looks Goldberry up and down. "Where did you find that dress? It is fabulous. I don't think Laila carries it."
Maegdin gasps in awe at the vision before him, but then laughs, a clear sound free of care or fear. The sound seems odd coming from such a grizzled and stern man, but it seems to suit him, nonetheless. He hurries up the path and enters the house, bowing in greeting to the mistress. He lays aside his weapons and pack and stands before the fire.
Arasthel's eyes widen a little as they come across the cottage, and when Goldberry emerges, she blinks in disbelief. "I suppose we must be dreaming..."
Bialver gives one last look around before he follows the others inside. He starts at the sight of the lady of the house, and makes a low bow
Arasthel heads into the cottage and looks around, heading right for the warmth of the hearth.
Minabel continues to address Goldberry. "Do you have tea? I believe it is about that time and we have had a fretful time with a crabby old tree."
Tom laughs again and takes Goldberry by the hand. 'Come now, my merry friends!' he cries. 'The table is all laden with yellow cream and honeycomb, and white bread and butter.' Goldberry smiles at him. 'The supper is ready,' she says, 'but our guests are not.' Tom claps his hands to his head and exclaims, 'Tom, Tom, your guests are weary, and you had near forgotten! Come now, my young friends, and I will refresh you! Lay aside your muddy cloaks and be at your ease then!' He walks down a short hallway and beckons to the company to follow him.
Trumodir looks up at the herbs drying in the rafters and gives a deep sigh, longing for her home, yet at the same time feeling very much as though she is there.
Maegdin follows the advice of Tom and hangs his cloak and hood on a peg by the door before following the old man down the hall.
Adaldag steps out of his boots and leaves them near the hearth, then removes the rest of his apparel until he was in nothing but his shirt and trousers. He leaves it all neatly laid out by the fire to dry. He then follows after Tom.
Bialver doffs his helm, lays aside his pack and bow, and follows after their host.
Trumodir gives herself a hard shake and considers herself dry enough
Minabel hangs her cloak on a peg by the door and takes a seat at the table.
Arasthel does the same as the others, pulling her muddy boots off and wringing her hat out from the moisture that had gathered in the rain before pulling it back on her head.
Maegdin and the rest who followed Tom come to a room attached to the side of the house. Here, there are basins of cold water as well as two kettles warming over a fire. Several mattresses are laid against one of the walls. Tom said, 'Now then, my weary guests, wash your hands and faces. Lay aside your muddy clothes and be at your comfort.' With that, he turns and heads back down the passage, singing as he goes.
Bialver peels away his chainmail, shaking it carefully, and laying it before the fire
Adaldag takes advantage of the basins and washes his face, then his hands. Afterward he moves back out to the front.
Minabel asks Goldberry. "Do you have a basin of water that I can wash my hands in? How about those bowls of lilies?"
Minabel looks at the food laid out on the table and her mouth waters. "It has been days since we have had a good meal, but I do not see any meat. Do you enjoy boar stew or squirrel on a stick?
Goldberry pauses in her final preparations and smiles at Minabel. 'If you follow your friends, you will find basins for washing,' she says sweetly. 'And here we eat nothing, save what the earth brings forth. Fear not, though! You will find no lack.' She continues to make the final touches on the supper, singing wordlessly as she does.
Bialver dunks his face in a bowl of water, and scrubs it with his hands, which as a concession to domesticity he dries on a towel. He takes a deep, happy breath, and the smells of the table draw him back to the other room
Adaldag walks back over to the fire to dry off for another minute or two.
Maegdin gladly strips off his sodden leathers and lays them aside by the fire to dry. He contemplates replacing his tunic and breeches, but shrugs and decides against it. That done, he washes his hands and head and quickly runs a comb through his hair before heading back out into the main room of the house.
Arasthel washes up, relieved to finally feel somewhat cleaner. She heads over the table, once finished washing up. She looks over the food and her stomach growls.
Trumodir sinks into a state of bliss as she smells the baked bread and honey, and feels the warmth of the fire
Bialver walks over to the table and stands behind a chair, looking at Goldberry as though for permission
Adaldag finally makes his way over to the table. He quietly fixes a large plate for himself, but doesn't start eating yet. He glances to their hosts, wondering if it was alright to start eating yet as well.
As the company files back in, Tom and Goldberry take seats at the ends of the table. They gesture their guests to seats on the sides. Tom laughs again. 'Sit now and be refreshed! I'm sure you must be hungry.' With that, they begin passing around the plates and dishes of food.
Minabel digs into the food with relish, but a part of her longs for boar steaks like she used to make for her sisters.
Trumodir asks, “Do you by chance have any mead to drink?”
Adaldag begins eating once he is sure it is permitted.
Arasthel begins eating, not even worrying about appearing lady-like right now; she is famished!
Maegdin takes a seat and gladly begins to eat. The drink in their bowls seems to be only spring water, but it goes to the hearts of the guests like the best wine and refreshes them more than many a draught of other vintage.
Bialver takes 3 large slices of bread and slathers them with butter, then honey, adding a dollop of cream in top of each one. He systematically devours each slice, then reaches for more
Adaldag practically chugs down his water.
Trumodir uncharacteristically eats slowly, savoring each bite.
Minabel burps and then looks around to see if anyone heard her.
Bialver gets through about 10 slices of bread, then looks at the table in wonder, for steadily as they're all eating, none of the platters appears any emptier.
Maegdin eats in silence for a few minutes, a look of contentment and joy on his face. The bread and honeycomb, the fruits and the vegetables, seem better than anything he has eaten in many a long day. 'This, then, is a finer meal than any I can remember!' he says gladly, before pausing suddenly in shock to hear himself singing.
Adaldag blinks at Maegdin before seeming to come to a conclusion and deciding he is not going to talk.
Bialver cocks a shaggy eyebrow at the Ranger, normally so taciturn, the drains his bowl and lets out a rumbling laugh so loud the crockery rattles. 'Well, Ranger, you're in an uncommon merry mood!'
Arasthel lifts her brows at Maegdin, smiling in amusement.
Tom laughs again. 'Glad I am to hear that, child, and glad to be your host here!' he says. 'Eat, now, my merry folk, eat to heart's contenting!' Maegdin laughs again in a rich baritone and drains his bowl in one long draught.
Bialver helps himself to more bread and honey, substituting cream for the butter this time
Trumodir gets a happy glazed look in her eyes and leans back in her chair
Bialver finishes his fifteenth...or is it sixteenth?...slice. He reaches for another; the heel of the loaf, his favorite part, and catches Goldberry's eye
Minabel asks Tom "Do you have any honey mead for dessert? That would be lovely.”
Bialver gestures to her with the bread, and waves his other hand at it reverently, for all he's grinning broadly
Arasthel wipes her mouth, perking up at the mention of a drink. "What of wine? Is there any wine?"
Tom shakes his head in reply to Minabel. 'No, we don't, I am afraid,' he says. 'Only what you see before you.' Goldberry smiles in response to Bialver and replies to Minabel. 'You need fear no lack, though. Be at your ease and comfort.'
Trumodir opens her eyes, which had been closed in a peaceful half-sleep, at the sound of Goldberry's voice
Bialver starts to reach for just one more slice, then draws his hand back and pats his bulging stomach with a chuckle. "These are no ordinary loaves" he says.
Trumodir looks a bit blearily at Tom, hoping he will show them to their beds
Maegdin pushes his plate away and sighs with contentment. 'I can't tell the last time I've eaten till I'm sated,' he says gladly.
Minabel yawns and dreams of a fluffy bed stuffed with crebain feathers
Arasthel leans back, resting her hand on her stomach and groaning contentedly. "I am so full..."
Adaldag finishes his plate and pushes it away in a similar fashion. He leans back and stretches his arms.
Trumodir starts to snore gently
Tom and Goldberry stand, with broad smiles on their faces. Goldberry raises her hands in farewell. 'Sleep now, until the morning,' she says. 'Heed no nightly noises.' With that, Tom heads off toward the room prepared for the company, beckoning them to follow him. 'Sleep till the morning-light, rest on the pillow. Heed no nightly noises, fear no hoary willow!' With that, he bows and leaves them to their rest.
Bialver stands up and fetches his pack from in front of the fireplace. He takes out his now depleted bag of honey cake and brings it over to show to Goldberry. Their heads bend together and they begin a long murmuring conversation, Bialver gesturing with his hands, Goldberry smiling indulgently. Through the long night, Bialver wanders about the house, stoking the fire in the bread-oven built against its side.
Adaldag plops down and is quickly out like a light.
Maegdin settles himself on his mattress and sighs in contentment. 'Good night, friends. Thank you for your company. Rest and be at peace. I know that I will.' With that, he lays his head on the pillow and is quickly fast asleep.
Minabel walks over to the bed that Goldberry assigned to her and delicately peels back the covers. She slides into bed and quickly falls asleep.
Arasthel sets her things down at the foot of her bed, smiling happily. She settles herself in, pulling the blankets over her head in a cozy cocoon and promptly drifts into her slumber.
When the morning comes, it finds Tom moving about the house, whistling like a tree full of birds. As the company awakes, they can hear the clatter of dishes and the soft song of Goldberry mingling with Tom's joyous noise. The two melodies flow together and make an unexpected harmony.
Trumodir rises at the sound of birds singing and stretches
Maegdin wakes and stretches as the sunlight streaming through the eastern window strikes his face. He yawns in contentment and looks about.
Minabel stretches her arms and yawns. Time to get up! She rises out the bed and looks sorry to leave its warmth behind.
Arasthel rolls onto her back as she begins to wake, her eyes fluttering open. She realizes where she is and she smiles, reaching her arms above her head in contented stretch with a happy sigh.
Trumodir listens to her stomach growl from hunger and wonders when breakfast will be served
Bialver can be heard outside, moving loaves about in the oven with a long oaken peel.
Adaldag yawns as he sits up and awakes from his sleep.
At the soft noises of waking coming from the guest-room, Tom comes in, a smile on his face and a song on his lips. 'Hey, now, my merry friends! Wake and hear me calling! Hey! Come, merry dol, derry dol, my hearties! A fine day lies ahead, with wind and cloud and sunshine! The table now is filled and laid with food to sate your hunger! Come now and fill your plates, and then we can take council!' With that, he skips out of the room and back to the breakfast-table.
Arasthel sits up and tries to comb her unruly hair with her fingers, wrapping the strands into a slightly lopsided ponytail. She then promptly pulls her odd hat over her dark hair, smiling up to Tom as he enters the room. Swinging her legs over, she stands and heads into the main room, smoothing her rumbled coat.
Bialver laughs loudly outside, and Goldberry's trilling laughter makes a counterpoint to his rumbling chuckle.
Maegdin throws off the covers and climbs easily from his bed, more rested than he can remember in many a long year. He washes his face and hands and runs a comb through his hair before pulling on his boots and walking out to the breakfast.
Adaldag gets out of bed and stretches before making his way into the main room and over to the table.
As the company makes their way to the breakfast-table, neither Tom nor Goldberry are to be seen, though their voices can be heard moving throughout the rest of the house and outside. The table is laden much as the night before, and places are set for all of them.
Minabel washes her face and hands in the pools of lilies in the front room and combs and puts her hair up in a bun. Then she makes her way to the breakfast table and eyes the fare. She sees bread and honey and yellow cream and berries, but alas no bacon.
Minabel takes a chunk of bread and spreads some cream on it. She nibbles at it and thinks about bacon.
Trumodir eyes the food hungrily, happy to see that the repast is exactly what she would have had back at home.
Outside, there are thuds and scapings, and Bialver comes thumping up the stairs. He opens the door and comes in, smiling broadly, his hair and beard burned with cinders.
Minabel serves herself some delicious looking berries and pours some yellow cream on top. She scoops some into her mouth and smiles. "Just like home!" she exclaims. “Where in this dreary little forest did they find such succulent berries, do you think?”
Maegdin settles himself at the table and helps himself to all that is on offer. He eats and drinks quickly, eager to be away while the day is still new. He hums softly to himself as he eats, clearly enjoying himself.
Trumodir cuts a thick slice of bread for herself, puts it on her plate, smothers it with cream, pours berries on top, and smiles broadly
Arasthel slides into a seat, her mouth watering at the fantastic display of food. She manages to be somewhat ladylike, eating as much as her stomach can hold. "Mm...thish ish delicious." She mumbles.
Adaldag piles his plate high and digs in.
Trumodir fidgets in her chair, and exclaims "Let's get going! This place is nice, but I want to move on!”
Bialver sits down at the table and helps himself to slice after slice of bread with butter and honey, and nearly plunges his face into a bowl of berries and cream.
Minabel dabs at the corner of her mouth and rises from the breakfast table. She asks Maegdin, "Should we seek our hosts and thank them for this lovely breakfast?"
Trumodir, having gobbled her breakfast, looks impatiently at the others and growls, "The game is afoot! Let's get going!"
Maegdin looks over at Minabel and pushes his plate away. 'I think there is no need,' he says. 'Go get your things and prepare to depart. I don't think our host and hostess will let us leave without farewelling us.' With that, he stands himself and heads back to the guest-room. Once there, he puts back on his now-dry leathers and collects his sword, pack, and shield.
Minabel gathers her comb, her bow and arrows, and her cape.
Adaldag finishes his meal and rises to gather his things from by the fire since he sat them there to dry last night.
Bialver fetches his chainmail, boots, and helm, examines them to make sure they're dry, and pulls them on.
Trumodir tromps out of the house.
Arasthel finishes her breakfast and also rises from the table to return to her bed. Pulling her pack on and grabbing her walking stick, she follows the others to the doorway.
Bialver takes a sack from the kitchen, bustles outside, and begins filling both his own leathern bag and the sack with the honeycakes that are cooling by the oven. He comes back in and grabs his weapons with a sheepish smile.
Arasthel grins a little at Bialver.
Maegdin walks over to the fireplace and collects his cloak and hood from where they had been hung to dry the night before. As he slings his cloak over his shoulders, Tom walks in from outside, whistling merrily. 'Ah, now, my merry friends,' he says. 'I trust that you are sated? Now's the time to speak with me, to set you on the right path! I know where you can find the crows you are a-seeking. They're not among the trees, nor in the woods no longer. Off among the Barrow-downs they flew in early morning.'
Adaldag finishes redressing himself properly and turns to listen carefully.
Bialver bows deeply to Tom, and says "Your Lady, Landvættr, is no ordinary eiðhúsfrú, but a great and wise Húsfreyja. The Honunghleifr we have made this night! It shall hearten our company for many a day.”
Arasthel looks around and waits, though looks a little worried at the mention of the Barrow-downs.
Adaldag visibly pales at the mention of the Barrow-downs, but he remains silent.
Bialver makes another deep bow, shoulders his bags of honeycake, and pushes open the door.
Minabel looks in terror at Tom. "You cannot be serious? Go to the Barrow-downs, where evil spirits dwell? No sane man or woman enters the downs.”
Maegdin looks up as Tom speaks, and then nods, as if expecting this answer. 'Some folk enter the downs,' he says to Minabel. He then asks Tom, 'Do you know where in the downs they have gone? We cannot search all the hills, not if we wish to be clear of them ere sundown.'
Bialver follows Trumodir out the door.
Tom nods, smiling no longer. 'I can tell you, my young friends, where your quarry's hiding. Head north along the path that leads from out my doorstep. That road will lead you up onto the barren hilltops. Then turn south along the hills beside the forest-border. There you'll find the birds you seek, and their dreary mistress. But keep to the green grass, and mind your own small business! Don't you go a-meddling with old stone or cold Wights or prying in their houses, unless you be strong folk with hearts that never falter! Pass any barrows by along their western border, and keep your minds and wits about you while you go a-wandering! Tom's blessing on your road, and on your journey's ending.'
Minabel assures Tom that she has not intention on trying to make contact with any barrow-wights
Adaldag sighs as talk of them heading into the downs begins and Tom mentions wights.
Maegdin nods his head again at Tom's words. 'My thanks, father, for your kindness and that of your lady. I do not know whether I will pass this way again, but I will remember my stay for the rest of my days.' He turns to head out of the door.
Tom calls after him as he goes to leave. 'Wait a moment, my young friend! I'd not leave you defenceless! You'll be in my country yet, until you leave the barrows, and I'll keep an ear for you to help you if you need it. If you have a need of me, call me with this singing:
"Ho! Tom Bombadil! Tom Bombadillo!
By water, wood, and hill, by the reed and willow,
By fire, sun, and moon, harken now and hear us!
Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!"
Call out those words at need, and I will hear and harken, wherever you may be in the borders of my country.' With that, Tom raises his hand in farewell and Maegdin walks out the door.
Minabel curtseys to Tom. "Goodbye, and we thank you for your hospitality."
Adaldag slides his helmet on and follows the others outside.
Trumodir beckons to Maegdin.
Arasthel dips her head to their hosts. "Thank you so much for your gracious hospitality. Be well."
As the company walks out of the house, Goldberry comes around the corner. 'Farewell, my fair guests! A blessing on your journey, and hold to your purpose! It was a merry meeting!' She raises her hands in farewell to them, and then turns and heads back into the house.
Trumodir stops her impatient pacing to wave a perfunctory good-bye to Tom and Goldberry, social graces not being her strong point.
Minabel waves to Tom and Goldberry. "Goodbye, thank you for all you have done, and remember, Goldberry, that green is your best color and that bathing your face in yellow cream keeps your skin young."
Maegdin smiles slightly and bows his head in farewell. With that, he raises his hood, glances at the others, and says, 'Well, then. Let us be off. The daylight is wasting.' He sets off up the path leading up onto the shoulders of the down.
Bialver makes a deep and reverent bow to Goldberry and says only "Lady. Hhúsfreyja. Vatnavættr..." before he turns and follows the others.
Maegdin leads the company up the road and onto the downs. The sun is shining bright and clear over the green hills, many of which are crowned with barrows or standing stones. The company holds to the edge of the Forest, as Tom directed, and soon they come to a small dell where a barrow lies almost lost within the shadows of the trees.
Trumodir spots a murder of crows and stops to observe them.
Arasthel follows Maegdin, though often gives wary looks over into the Barrow-downs. She looked upwards to where she knew Birdie was flying, then quickened her pace as to not fall behind.
Bialver trudges along, lost in a reverie, until they climb down the dell and see the barrow. Then he settles his helm more firmly on his head and lays his hand on his club.
Minabel approaches the barrow and frowns. The smell of the crows is offensive. "What do you suppose they have dining on?" she asks no one in particular.
Arasthel snorts softly at Mina's remark, looking over to her. "We probably do not wish to know..." She murmurs to her.
Maegdin pauses a moment at the lip of the dell and looks at the crows. He scowls under his hood and strings his bow, though he does not nock an arrow. As he walks down into the dell, a cold laugh comes from within the shadows of the barrow's door. 'So, these must be the ones who killed my poor pets. You'll pay for that, fools!'
A tall woman in long red robes strides out of the barrow, sword in hand. She pauses and sneers at the company. 'I see none here who can possibly stand against one such as I, a servant of the Iron Crown. If you run now, I'll let you live, so you can savour the taste of defeat when my king returns in triumph, as he surely shall once I tell him that the Great Lord's Ring is being taken east by a hobbit. If you stay, I'll feed you to my birds. What will it be, little fools?'
Arasthel grips her walking staff a little tighter, looking nervously at the woman with all the crows. She could hear Birdie give a screech above her and she knew her companion was descending.
Bialver grips his club more firmly, and loosens it from his baldrick.
Trumodir lets a great roar of fury in answer to her threat.
Bialver leaps in behind his kinswoman, his club raised.
Maegdin puts up his bow and draws his sword as he walks calmly towards the woman. 'We'll take neither,' he says simply. 'Neither you nor your birds will survive this day.' With that, he charges at her, shield raised to ward off any blows.
Birdie screeches down from the sky, moving with swiftness towards one of the crebain near the top of the barrow.
Bialver wades in with a roar, trying to strike the crebain out of the air.
Trumodir runs at her, appearing to the others as though she had become a furious bear.
Minabel notches an arrow into her bow and aims at a particularly ugly craban above the barrow entrance.
The woman laughs coldly at Matt's words. 'Very well, then!' She raises her sword and prepares to meet his charge, but her eyes go wide at the sight of Trumodir charging like an enraged bear. She shouts out some words in a hoarse, harsh language, and half a dozen of the crows take flight and launch themselves at Trumodir.
Bialver roars louder and bats furiously at the attacking crows.
Arasthel's bird seems to completely misjudge its descent and plows headlong into the grass atop the barrow. Several of the crebain hop over and begin pecking at it as it lies stunned. Bialver's swatting misses several of the birds flying at Trumodir; however, she bats two of them down, crushing them under her paws. Mina's shot strikes home with one of the birds still sitting on the barrow. The woman screams in anger as she watches several of her birds fall dead, and she swings her sword wildly at Matt. He blocks the blow with his shield, but stumbles back, unprepared for her ferocity.
Minabel looks at Birdie with pity.
Trumodir rears up, her wrath poured out against the remaining birds, which she strikes at with a frightening ferocity
Arasthel gasps as Birdie is in trouble, and gripping her staff, she rushes towards Andraste as she is busy with Matt, swinging her staff around in the hopes of clubbing the Angmarim over the head.
Minabel takes aim at the bird closest to the craban mistress and fires an arrow, not caring if she hits the bird or its mistress.
Bialver throws down his club and leaps at one of the birds, one hand grasping, the other swatting.
Maegdin steps back for a moment to get firmer footing, and then thrusts his shield towards the Angmarim in an attempt to knock her off balance.
Trumodir swats down another bird as the other three fly around her head, trying to peck at her eyes. The other three crebain still standing on the barrow launch themselves towards the bear, but one quickly falls with Mina's arrow in it. Bialver nearly strikes one of the birds flying towards Trumodir, but it flaps out of the way at the last possible moment. Arasthel's staff goes wide and misses the Angmarim, though it almost hits Matt. By sheer luck, she manages to smash it down on one of the crows pecking at her bird. Birdie flaps a wing weakly and the other crow backs off for a moment. Meanwhile, Matt's blow with his shield knocks the woman's sword from her grasp and she falls to the ground, stunned for the moment.
Arasthel winces as she nearly hits Matt. She would apologise later. She brings her staff around in the attempt to hit the dazed Angmarim in the face!
Trumodir swats at the birds with her powerful front paws, as though they were flies.
Bialver turns to the Angmarim and scoops up his club from the ground.
Maegdin follows through with a downward strike from his sword as his foe lies prone on the ground.
Minabel takes another arrow and shoots directly at the craban mistress Andraste.
Bialver's swing follows close on the Ranger's strike
Adaldag draws his club and rushes over to help Trumodir with the crows, taking a swing at the first one he encounters.
The Angmarim tries to roll away to grasp her sword, but she is stunned by a blow to the head from Arasthel's staff and then dispatched in short order by Mina's arrow, Bialver's club, and Matt's sword. Meanwhile, Birdie hops back up and runs at its foe, pecking and cawing at it. Trumodir swats down another crow attacking her, while Adaldag's blow sending two of the crebain flying through the air, eventually striking the side of the barrow with sickening thuds.
Trumodir let out one final roar that shook the earth and all the bystanders...
Bialver turns from the fallen Angmarim to the crows attacking Trumodir, and takes another swipe.
Arasthel gives a smug smile as her blow dazed Andraste, but in only a moment, she turns to look with concern at Birdie, and with a huff, swings her staff at the craban still fighting with him.
Adaldag swings at any birds still attacking Trumodir.
Maegdin kneels down by the body, seeing as the fight is nearly over, and begins looking through her belt-pouches for any information.
Minabel holds her bow by one end and uses it as a club to hit the craban still attacking Birdie.
Trumodir pants heavily, and continues to swat at the birds, but with less force.
Bialver roars at the Creban and goes into the berserker's relentless maul
Mina's and Arasthel's strikes both connect, and the craban falls dead with a crunch of broken bones. Birdie hops up Arasthel's staff and onto her shoulder, one wing held at a worrying angle. Meanwhile, Adaldag knocks one more of the crows out of the air, but Bialver's blow goes wide and nearly strikes Trumodir in his fury. Matt, for his part, pulls a missive from the belt pouch of their fallen foe, and unfolds it, reading quickly.
Bialver swipes furiously at the crow, roaring the name of The Vales in his fury
Minabel is filled with enthusiasm for killing crebain after clubbing the craban attacking Birdie and she moves on the one attacking Trumodir.
Arasthel's only concern now is for Birdie and she strokes the feathers in the front while studying the bent wing. She murmurs something to the falcon. <S> "What have they done to you, Birdie? Do not worry, we will get you fixed up." She very gently begins to run her fingers over the wing, frowning.
Maegdin turns back to the rest of the company just as Bialver swats down the last bird and stomps it into the ground. He looks around, giving Trumodir a look of concern, but he says, 'That is over now, it seems. Come, let us away. I do not wish to be caught out in these hills after sundown.' He walks over to Trumodir. 'Can you walk?'
Trumodir smiles weakly and nods.
Bialver helps Trumodir to her feet, and slips his arm under her shoulders.
Arasthel turns to follow the others, though her movements seemed a little absent. She looked at Birdie, murmuring more encouragements in Sindarin before looking with concern at Trumodir.
Adaldag edges away from Trumodir as the conflict comes to an end. He puts his club back at his hip and looks around, then nods in agreement with Maegdin. "Same here."
Bialver murmurs "Bravely fought, Daughter of the Knurrebjorner.”
Trumodir whispers back, “Thank you for the support when it was most needed."
Minabel looks at the crebain bodies around her. "Thank the fates we have defeated this horrid woman and her ugly little spies." She gives a well deserved kick to the nearest craban body and follows the others.
Maegdin looks about at the carnage as the company begins to walk away. 'Well, hopefully this will be a nice little puzzle for the servants of the Enemy to figure out,' he says. 'Let us away.' With that, he leads them due north, until they leave the downs behind them. As the Sun touches the western horizon, the company comes back to the Road.
Bialver looks down the road to the west, thinking of Adso's brewing experiments, then to the east, thinking of Butterburr's mead.
Maegdin turns to face the others as they come back to the Road. 'This detour seems to have lead to a very long delay,' he says. 'But we learned something out of it, and we have all come safe. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'll be happy to be back inside Bree tonight. If we hurry, we can make it to the Pony not long after sundown.'
Trumodir cheers.
Adaldag nods eagerly.
Minabel agrees with Maegdin. "I will look forward to a hot bath and a warm bed."
Bialver nods firmly. "The Pony it is" he says.
Arasthel looks relieved at the idea of sleeping in a real bed in Bree. "I would not complain about that, I will admit."
Maegdin nods to the rest of them. 'Let's away, then.' With that, he turns and walks quickly down the Road towards Bree.
Trumodir sighs, and begins to trudge toward Bree
Adaldag follows quickly.
Bialver trots along behind the others, but every now and then he looks back over his shoulder to the dark shadow of the forest and sighs "Vatnavættr..."
