1.0 - The Marsh Bell

Gilly smiles with satisfaction, "Well, I think that went fairly well, for our first battle." She looks at her comrades, "Does someone tall want to go fetch the weapons? Even if we cannot use them, we can ensure they're put to better use by someone else." She glances down the shore in the direction the bandits went, "I'm not confident fear and superstition will keep them away for long, so we're best to get on our way soonest."

"Agreed," Robin says, to his sister's suggestions, "We should be leaving, with haste."

Robin sets about to make sure the traveling packs and bags are firmly secured. After a moment of pause, he looks to the other companions and reassures them, "And Hobbits are not cursed."

"Gilly, I can go grab the weapons if you need me to."

Inar paddles his boat back to the shoreline as quickly as he can before hissing to the others "Be quick about it, we may have seen them off now but a bit of distance may cause them to regrow their spines a wee bit!"

You quickly gather the discarded weapons -- saving them for some other use and set back out in your boats. As a result, lunch is some cold traveling rations that Inar finds vaguely satisfying, Thovetar is all too familiar with and the Hobbits both find incredibly wanting (though this is not their first time having eaten them... but familiarity in this case breeds some contempt). As you continue south on the Long Lake you begin to hear a quiet roar that increases in volume as you make your way south.

Seeing as you aren't completely unfamiliar with the area, you are aware that the lake exits south into the Running River down some high waterfalls that are pretty enough -- but not designed to be ridden over in boats. The Stairs of Girion will take you down to the river -- probably in the morning. This evening it's likely camp at the piers just before the falls -- or amongst the company of the men who work the Stair.

You catch sight of the telltale sign of a school of fish feeding along your path -- but by the time you notice it and then think about what to do and the Hobbits get to the point of securing a fishing pole -- the school has moved on -- closer to shore and out of the way of your path.

As the day begins to end -- late in the day this far north at this time of year -- you hear the roaring of the falls quite loudly as you settle in to a pier to disembark and negotiate the movement of your boats down the stairs of Girion. You're greeted by a middle-aged Man who identifies himself as Lowell. "It is good to see you kind sirs.. and lady." The latter is a bit late as he recognizes that Gilly is a female Hobbit.

Lowell directs you to get your boats onto a trackway in preparation for taking them down in the morning. This leaves you with the need to find a place to camp -- either close to the lake shore, or perhaps a seat around the fire. In the course of preparation Lowell does indicate that the "lads" would be eager to hear from some such as those so brave to venture south by boat!

Gilly looks at her brother with pleading eyes...clearly wanting to join the lads.

Robin looks hesitant, eager to avoid much social contact. Gilly would need looking after, though, so he must follow, and he didn't have the heart to withhold her this small thing. "Oh, alright, Gilly," he concedes, following her once his camp and belongings are set up and secured.

Inar follows the two hobbits towards the group of 'lads' and takes a seat just away from the main group, where he can keep an eye on this group of strangers but not be part of the festivities.

Your group is happily welcomed at the fire where a fair number of younger men - laborers and fisher-type folks - sit around working on a common meal. In the waning daylight a small number of simple huts can be seen -- clearly where these men live while plying their trade here. They are all Lakemen of Esgaroth, and thus familiar with the area. But as you sit and the make room, especially for the still-rarely-seen Hobbits, they both burble with excitement and hush with expectation in ripples.

Lowell notes, "We do not yet see significant trade or travel down the Stair... and it's unusual to see a group such as you fine adventurers here rather than a merchant caravan. Might you have any stories you can share to help us pass the meal?"

Gilly stands with a wide grin, "It just so happens we do. Have you heard the tale of the hobbit and the three trolls?"

Robin smiles and sits back, preparing his pipe on his belly as he listens in to the tale he's likely heard a hundred times.

There's a general murmur around the fire. "No indeed! A Hobbit and three trolls? Surely it's a chase?!" One of them pipes up, gently ribbing Gilly and Robin.

Gilly smiles and gestures to her body in self-deprecation, "T'would be a short chase, were that so."

Her voice changes, taking on the timbre and nuance of a skilled storyteller, "The night was dark and still, and the small hobbit stood along at the edge of the path through the woods. His friends had disappeared into the night, one by one, to investigate a flickering fire they could see through the trees. Only Bilbo was left, frightened and alone. Yet his loyalty gave him bravery enough to venture into the trees after them..."

She proceeds to tell the tale, only slightly embellished, together with voices and gestures, her eyes alight the whole time with delight.

Thovétar smiles as he listens to the story being told.

Robin could easily have grown tired of the tales about Bilbo; he had heard them told so often, back home. However, he could never grow tired of Gilly's storytelling. The big smile on his face indicated as much as he sat back, forming a hazy cloud of pipe smoke around his head.

Around the fire, the young lads listen carefully to the story. At the end they are entertained, somewhat amazed and a little confused. "How did he imitate their voices then? Is he a ventril... uh, can he throw his voice? Can all Hobbits do that?" asks one of the men. Another says, "No, you have it all wrong -- one of the Dwarves was doing that!"

Lowell swings by as the conversation burbles away and ensures each of you have a pot of filling, but not exceptional, stew -- sharing in the meal they've prepared. It's heavy on fish, given the proximity to the Lake and the bread hunks you get are not at all stale.