Middle-Earth Role Playing Campaign

Their concerns were unfounded. Four pipers stood on the banks, playing a joyful tune, and people streamed from the huts with great smiles on their faces.

"What is happening here?" Luinár asked a villager as she came past.

"Why, 'tis Midsummer's day!" the lady replied. "Why be ye standing around in your armour and weapons? Change into something more comfortable and come join in on the celebrations!" And off she ran, joining the crowd assembling on the common.

"Shall we stay?" asked Mîriel. "I thought we were planning to leave today."

"Well, we were," said Luinár. "But we've received an invitation."

"And I would like to stay and pay my respects to Penborran," said Araquenval.

"I thought that's what last night's party was all about," said Bradlegar. "But being Midsummer's Day, I expect they'll be having another tonight. I'd like to stay around for it."

"That's my Bradlegar!" Luinár laughed. She went into the hut to change.

As it turned out, the extra day in the village was put to good use. After a breakfast with the others on the common, Mîriel asked Luinár, Rhôn, and Maeve to join her on a search for healing plants in the area. They all agreed and set out by mid-morning. Maeve, the youngest of the mistresses of the cauldron, led the way.

Rhôn was skilled in such things, but Maeve proved to have an extraordinary knowledge of the area. Over the course of the morning she led them across fields over to the river, up the side of the valley, and through copses and hollows, all along gathering an impressive array of plants. The banks of the river yielded half a dozen arfandas flowers, three edram and five attanar mosses, four arpsusar stalks, and eight suranie berries. From the grassy glens came five arnuminas and ten arunya leaves, a single rust coloured dagmathar stalk, three pungent resins of harfy, five siran cloves, and one nodule that Rhôn said was klagul. And the sides of the valley gave four berterin mosses, six rewk nodules, and eight thurl cloves.

While the others were away foraging for plants, Araquenval, Dennenor, and Kronos joined Brodigern and Cartamantrix on the bank, discussing plans for the future defense of the village. Bradlegar tagged along, but his attention was still drawn by the figure carved into the hill. Although the breldiar had long since worn off, the Hobbit still regarded the figure with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"You'll need to build up a proper palisade on the top of this bank," Kronos told the chieftains. "That way attackers would not be able to storm across the ditch and over the bank."

"You will need gates, too, to close off the gaps in the wall," said Dennenor. "There are trees aplenty in the valley. Kronos and his friends should be able to construct something that would stand up to a concentrated attack."

When he returned to the village later that morning, Rhôn picked up his helm from where he had set it down and examined it. This time he seemed less daunted by the task, and set to work repairing it yet again. Painting a leaf emblem on her shield a few feet away, Luinár noticed him waving his hand about his head every once in a while, as if trying to brush away a troublesome insect, but she could see nothing flying about him.

The delay rankled Bauglir. Over the past two days he had become increasingly nervous about the safety of their treasure, and now stood constantly by the hut, watching with grave suspicion anyone who ventured near. He even kept an eye on Araquenval: after the Elf's reckless gift of much of their weapons and armour the day before, Bauglir would not have been surprised to see him hand over their gold as well. But Araquenval did nothing of the sort, instead spending a couple of hours inscribing a flying spell on the rune paper, then storing invisibility for later use.

Dennenor borrowed the olorkorna and sat down with it to meditate, attempting to determine if the village would be attacked within the next month. Flying in his spirit over Caer Annwn, his attention was drawn north. There, over Angmar, he saw an angry dark cloud. It whirled about and grew in size and darkness, and Dennenor felt strangely drawn to it, as if the cloud was attempting to pull him in. Stronger became the pull, so much that Dennenor felt helpless to resist its tugging, and instead willed himself out of his meditation altogether. The experience troubled him, and he keenly felt the loss of Penborran and the opportunity to learn more about the stone.

This was a Midsummer's Day like few others, for in the early afternoon they interrupted their merry-making for Penborran's funeral. Solemnly, with little ceremony, they carried the carefully wrapped body of the departed shaman from the moot hut to a barrow that had been prepared outside the village. Beside a fire pit that had been dug there the day before they laid him, and carefully arranged about him what few worldly possessions he had: drums, flutes, a leather bag with his personal shamanistic items, and a walking staff. Then they closed the barrow and quietly walked back to the village.

That evening the people congregated on the bank at the west side of the village to watch the sunset. The sun slowly sank over a standing stone that had been set on the hill where the figure of Hannwn was carved, directly between the two poles held in the image's hands. Dennenor recalled another Midsummer's day in Nan Fastataurë, not that long ago but a thousand years removed, where the sun had set over another stone set between the uprights of a trilithon.

Then the bonfire was lit for the Midsummer Feast. Again the villagers sang and drank, but the celebration was muted somewhat by the remembrance of Penborran. Like the funeral feast last night, this party broke up early, and the village retired to their huts to rest.

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Guided Tour

Day 33: Flying Horses and a Restless Ghost

Day 31: The Passing of Penborran

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Based on events played to May 08, 1998. Accesses since September 30, 1998: