Gladrin Glimboree (Hobbit Scholar): "Send Forth the Emissaries"
Rowlie Rushlight (Warden): of Archet in Bree-land
Dark Rambler (Wanderer): Woodman of Wilderland from Rhosgobel
Galanan (Elf Soldier): from Lorien, sent to establish relations with Erebor and Dale. (And do what I can to help solidify the strategic stronghold against the Shadow. I traveled to the gates of the Wood Elves and thru the Wood Elf kingdom as an honored guest to arrive at Dale.)
Brackrog the Crimson (Dwarven Warrior):from Erebor
Gladrin Glimboree- "Send Forth the Emissaries"
ReplyDelete“The longbeards plod eastward across our lands to the draw of gold and their homeland. They will add to the buffer keeping the shadow at bay. No need for us to disrupt our easy life here far west.” The Shire Thain answering, “Enough counsel. While the glow of gold is like a light drawing others east, like a moth drawn to a porchlight, that same light casts shadows that edge ever westward. Who’s to say those dwarves won’t sink back into their stronghold and let any threat flow around them? Or that the rangers who now protect our borders won’t too be drawn to that glittering light? No! I say send out emissaries to determine who else could possibly stand between us and any threat. What caliber of man are they?”
And so it was, Gladrin Glimboree kissed his mother goodbye as he fell in line with a passing band of longbeard dwarves heading east. His joy and excitement soon choked by the cloud of dust kicked up along the miles. Pause at the edge of the Shire where doubt and fore-longing grew in his chest. Till excite at awaiting adventure pushed him forward, “Fror, tell me again where we are headed?” His bright clothing heralding his status as emissary soon turned pale and tattered after months of travel over the Misty Mountains and beyond till he finally arrived at Esgaroth on the western shores of Longlake.
Ladee (as the dwarves called him) dusted off his clothing as he stepped forward into the city proudly displaying his emissary medallion. “Yes, yes. Our king awaits your presence. Follow.” And Ladee cleared his throat as he stepped into the alley…where he was mugged. Too trusting. Too blind to the desires of others, as one of the thugs held his blade high, “Thanks yee for the gold and trinkets. Hopefully others of your kind bring more easy pickings.” The plunging blade blocked by the dwarven axe of Fror Ironban, “I let you out of my sight for a minute and you are already in trouble. Now you men be good lads and give him back his gear.” Minutes later Ladee straps his backpack and tucks his medallion under his tunic as he falls in line with Fror, stepping over the prone bodies of his unconscious assailants. “Now Ladee, I must leave you as I seek my fellow clans in Erebor. Let this be your lesson: men and others are not so inclined to accept your words as they are your life and possessions. Look at their soul before you leap into counsel.”
Greeting. I'm Rowlie Rushlight of Archet in Bree-land. Nice to meetcha.
ReplyDeleteThey call me the Dark Rambler, but you can call me the Rambler if you wish. Woodmen of Wilderland, Wanderer/Treasure Hunter from Rhosgobel
ReplyDelete“Rowlie, Wake Up!” Momma yelled from the hearth as she prepared breakfast. Rowlie Rushlight normally liked to sleep in on 6th day, but this was the first 6th day after his 12th birthday.
ReplyDelete“Yes, Momma?” Rowlie replied from just over her shoulder, startling her so bad she almost dropped the flapjack from the pan directly into the fire. He was so excited today. Rowlie had woken early this day and quietly got ready. Today was his first ride in the cart with is father to Bree.
All of Rowlie’s life, 6th day was apple delivery day. His father, Brai, would take a load of apples and other goods from the Archet farms and take them to Bree to sell. The Rushlight family had a small bakery in Bree and would sell their famous Rushlight Baked Apples along with Apple Tart’s, Pies and Fritters. The delectable were well known throughout Bree-land so much so that folks from Combe and Staddle would often travel to Bree just for a taste….always grumbling that Brai could drop off some of his goods as he traveled through each week to save them the trip. Brai always told them, “if I dropped them off here, you’d never get out, and we would miss your company.”
Now that Rowlie was 12, he would finally get to go with his father and see a bit of the world. Well, at least a bit more than Archet. Truth be told, Brai was welcome to have Rowlie’s company. Even at this young age Rowlie had the gift of entertainment. Making bouquets of flowers appear out of seemingly thin air, and pulling coins out of town folks ear’s, Rowlie was always fun to have around. Some of the town folks even thought he had the true gift of magic. They usually kept a close eye on Rowlie's antics.
Fortunately Rowlie also had the gift of voice. He could usually talk is way out of the suspicious accusations of the more conservative townsfolk. Rowlie was also a pleasant singer. Rowlie's entertaining abilities were so good, his father had bought him a Lyre for his birthday. Already just these few days past his birthday, Rowlie could strum a few notes and chords enough to accompany some songs he knew
This particular trip however was a little more eventful than Rowlie could have possibly imagined. The trip through Combe and Straddles was mostly uneventful other than an opportunity for Rowlie to show off some of his new magic tricks and strum a few songs with his new musical instrument. The few miles between Straddle and Bree however things got a little tense...Brigand stopped the cart and demanded money from Brai. Brai Tried to explain that there was no money, just flour, apples, salt and a few spices. The brigands didn't believe him, and were about to attack Brai when Rowlie's started singing...loudly. It was a song he’d heard a few time for folks traveling through archet...a song of the rangers of the north.
ReplyDeleteUnknown to the brigands, Rowlie had spotted a cloaked form on the wooded edge of the trail. The stranger had a bow drawn, and had a bead on the lead brigand. Rowlies loud singing was meant as a distraction. Just as the brigands turned their attention from Brai to Rowlie, an arrow let loose from the tree line, striking the leader square in the throat. instantly feeling the bandit. Brai, launched from the cart bench and cracked one of the brigands square on the crown with a massive club that had been hiding next to the drivers seat. Slightly surprised by his fathers burst of fighting prowes, but always quick to react, Rowlie quickly used his swift hands to produced a stick out of thin air. “Flee, or my wand shall fall another of your” Rowlie shouted to the remaining bandits..
The three other brigand immediately scrambled and fled as quickly as they could. Rowlie continued to wave his stick shouting “Magic words” as multiple arrows flew through the air from the tree line driving the bandits eastward.
“Come down from the cart son,” Brai called to his son, beaming with pride. “I’d like you to meet an old friend.” Brai greeted the stranger with a grip and a hug that only two good friends could display. Brai introduce his quick witted son to the stranger. Brai’s old friend was Tarrin, a Dunadain from the north. Brai and Tarrrin had known each other in their younger years. Tarrin accompanied the two the rest of the way to Bree exchanging stories along the way, catching up on news of families and the area. Rowlie began to truly enjoy with Tarrin’s company, and knew from that point forward Rowlie would find his calling protecting other in the area from brigands and bandits.
ReplyDeleteTarrin remained with the Rushlight family for the next several season. And over time taught Rowlie how to fight and hunt. Rowlie continued entertaining of the locals, and learned how to fight, much to the pride of his father, and chagrin of his mother. His father however knew that his small caravan of goods between Bree and Archet would always be safe if Rowlie learned well how to protect himself and the carts.