1.0 - The Marsh Bell

Gilly and Inar take a look around the campsite, checking sight-lines and feeling for the out-of-placeness that a camp makes as a pair of Dwarves go about their business. Thovetar and Robin take a more... thorough approach, carefully looking at different aspects of the camp and trying to deduce what business happened here.

"Well," Robin says, a thick cloud of aromatic smoke expelling from between his lips, "They weren't here long. Two days might even be a bit of a stretch." One hand pats his belly while the other gently flicks his pipe to dump some excess ash.

Inar grunts "Any sign of which way they went?"

"South, toward the Old Forest Road," Gilly points at the tracks she found.

"By Balin's beard! What a clever hobbit!" exclaims Frór, "South it is, then!" and he strides confidently southwards, walking stick in hand...

Fror doesn't make it far before he's reminded that he's in the middle of a marshy swamp, and it'll be back to the boats to find further signs of the Dwarves, likely.

After getting a soaker a few strides into the muck...

"Right then! Back to the boats we go!"

Robin can't help but grin at the Dwarf's charm, following after him to the boats.

Thovetar considers the statements and adds his own color, "By my judgment, they didn't sleep here. Something spooked them and they moved on after hiding this." He shows an ivory jewel box. It is intricately carven with several images of regal-looking birds. He makes to hand it off to Inar, given it's clearly of Dwarven manufacture and he suspects Erebor would prefer to have it in the hands of one of its kin.

Inar nods in thanks to Thovetar before examining the box.

Frór shuffles up behind Inar and looks over his shoulder, "Pretty box. Hey, are those Ravens? Is the big one Roäc?"

The box doesn't have any particular mystery to it as Inar examines it. He suspects the carved birds are eagles -- the great Eagles of the Misty Mountains, no less. It opens easily enough and the light of the day seems caught and multiplied ten-fold as it the contents in the box flash and sparkle. As Inar and Fror adjust to the light, they see inside a written and illuminated parchment. It is rolled up and wound around with a fine necklace of twisted gold wire connected to a precious stone, the size of a fist. It is snowy in color and its countless facets make the box seem to shine with an inner light.

Robin frowns, pondering the necklace.

"My, my, the contents are even prettier than the box itself! A dazzling jewel it be!" admires Frór the Tall, son of Grór.

Gilly is far more interested in the parchment than the jewels. She waits impatiently for someone to unroll it.

Inar stares at the necklace for a while, a concerned look on his face.

Gilly is unimpressed by the pretty stone, but the rest of the Fellowship look at it with a bit of lust in their hearts. It is a kingly gift, and it's easy to imagine at least a dozen uses or places to put it so that it could be admired for long hours at a warm fire.After what seems like a few awkward moments for Gilly, everyone else appears to snap out of it.

Inar shakes himself after a moment before reaching forwards and taking the letter and begins to read it.