In the afternoon you pass between the Chetwood and the Midgewater marsch before you turn slightly eastwards toward the Weather Hills. The slight overcast holds up as you walk and provides great weather for travelling. The main party leave plenty of tracks for you to follow -a boot print here, a snapped twig there- and you manage to keep close enough that you get glimpses of them from time to time.

On the afternoon of the second day you see the main party climb a gentle slope and and suddenly halt when they reach the crest. You glimpse the pileum of a large murder of crows on the other side. From your vantage point you can not see what they might be feasting upon but it seems clear that the main party can.

"That large a gathering of scavengers points to a man-sized carcass or multiple carcasses," Gert gravely remarks to Milton "A pack of predators such as wolves may be responsible, else a single very large predator. We must choose our camp with care tonight, given we cannot make use of a fire to ward off such."

"I'd sure like to get a look at whatever has the birds' interest! If it was wolves, would they not defend their kill?" The Hobbit glanced around warily with eyes a little wider than normal. The mixture of curiosity and trepidation upon the little fellow's face was quite apparent.

"The critters might come back for their prey after dark I suppose. I agree that finding a suitable camp should be of utmost importance! I'll admit to having second thoughts about our approach. Sounded so easy when I suggested it."

"There are numerous reasons why predators might abandon a kill to scavengers," Gert replies in a low voice. "Such a large number of crows could conceivably drive off a handful of wolves." She gestures discreetly. "Multiple crows could attack one wolf much as wolves would attack larger prey, harrying them with many smaller wounds until they exhaust them. Oftimes, 'twill depend on who is hungriest." She nods at her companion's admission. "Tramping about the wild is not for the faint of heart. Fortunate you have heart aplenty, my friend."

"I suppose you're right. Small creatures, in large numbers, can overpower or frighten away things that are much larger if they've a mind... and the heart to do so. Your words encourage me!"

Milton kept an eye on the crows while the looked for a camping spot. His curiosity burned, but he was a hobbit and sensibility overrode these foolsome feelings... most of the time.

"Did we ever work out a signal with the others? Something to let us know they're in distress or need our help? That would have been wise I suppose."

His stomach rumbled. "I wonder what we've got for snacks before supper?"

Gert feigns a look of horror. "What what what?!? I thought you brought snacks! Hobbits always bring snacks." She grins then and produces an apple. "As does anyone who expects to travel with one for long. Six meals a day, am I right?" She amusedly counts on her fingers. "Breakfast. Second breakfast. Elevenses. Luncheon. Afternoon tea. Dinner. Supper. Wait, that's seven. Oh bother..."

Most of the the main party move past the crest out of sight from your vantage point but you can see Perry linger on the slope, seemingly deep in thought with young Thomas retching on the ground next to him. After a while Diarmoc appear, further away on the flatland beyond where he stops, back turned to whatever is going on.

Gert silently signals to Milton with one hand... stay low, keep still... while carefully lowering herself to take advantage of the ground cover. She cautiously watches Diarmoc, concealed by the tall grass and beneath her cloak.

On the cusp of expounding on the various sub-categories of meal and snack times in the hobbit daily routine, he saw the ranger motion him to silence. He immediately followed her lead and dropped until only his eyes and shaggy mob of hair were visible above the tops of the grass, which is to say he hunkered down only a little. Following her intense gaze, the hobbit spotted what she was seeing. He too watched carefully, curiosity growing as to the unfolding of the situation where they'd earlier spotted the crows.

On mouse-silent feet, he crept next to Gert and whispered in her ear, "You forgot several of the deserts."

After a while you see the rest of the party follow Diarmoc, resuming the journey northeast.

06:18, Today: Gert Wayward rolled a total of 12 (12 if weary): a failure using the The One Ring with a target of 13 with rolls of 1 (Feat Die), 6, 5.  Hunter Event (Hunting, Favoured).
06:19, Today: Gert Wayward rolled a total of 0 (0 if weary): a failure with the Eye of Sauron (complications) using the The One Ring with a target of 2 with rolls of 11 (Feat Die).  Hunter Event (Hunting, Favoured).

You pass the way the others went across the crest of the small hill and come upon the same gristly sight that met them. A large gathering of carrion birds have -after the others chased them away- come back to feasting on three bodies by a collection of cliffs just below you. Their limbs are twisted in unnatural angles and what remains of their faces are frozen in expressions of terror and pain. There is no telling who these people were but you think they might have been Bree-folk. An orc-arrow, black feathered and crude lies discarded beside the bodies. You guess someone in the main party studied it and tossed it aside.

Judging by the condition of the bodies they must have been here at least several days, perhaps a week. There are faint tracks leading east into the Weather Hills but the spring rain have washed away any knowledge of how many orcs there might have been.

The wind picks up speed as you make your way north behind the others, making it difficult to find tracks in the tall grass.

---

Feel free to interact with the scene by the cliffs before you head off if you want to, otherwise we'll move on with next leg of the journey.

Chance-meeting! If the roll succeeds, no Fatigue is gained, and the Loremaster improvises an encounter favouring the Company. Since the HUNTING roll failed you gain 1 Fatigue and don't get a chance encounter of your own but you will get to witness the others encounter if you manage to follow them this leg.

If you wonder why I keep copy/pasting the table text it's just to spotlight what I'm up to, mechanically, now in the beginning so we can learn together. I won't do that next journey.

Go ahead and try to gather your 3 successes for this leg of the journey.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:25, Sun 18 Feb.

Acquired two of our three necessary successes. Milton has two rolls in which to gain one success.

---

15:20, Today: Gert Wayward rolled a total of 7 (5 if weary): a failure using the The One Ring with a target of 13 with rolls of 5 (Feat Die), 1, 1.  Second Leg (Hunting, Favoured).
15:23, Today: Gert Wayward rolled a total of 18: a great success (same result if weary) using the The One Ring with a target of 13 with rolls of 10 (Feat Die), 2, 6.  Second Leg (Stealth, Favoured).

Milton followed Gert as they approached the cliffside where the carrion birds were busy quarreling over the rotting flesh. The smell assailed the hobbit and, for the moment, he lost any and all appetite. His face turned very pale and his brown eyes grew very large. "Oh. This is... very terrible."

He was about to turn away when the discarded orc arrow caught his attention. He carefully picked it up and looked it over. He wondered at its construction, certainly not made for hunting, it was made for killing. Simply killing, and brutally so.

"They should be buried, but if we take the time, we might lose our friends!" he said to the ranger. "We can tell someone I suppose, when we get back that is." He placed the orc arrow in his quiver, he didn't know why exactly, and followed Gert along the path their friends had taken.

---

Stealth: Milton Mudbottom of Frogmorton rolled a total of 13: an extraordinary success (same result if weary) using the The One Ring with a target of 13 ((1 (Feat Die), 6, 6)). That should have been 3d6 instead of 2 for Milton: Milton Mudbottom of Frogmorton rolled 1 using 1d6 ((1)). Total is 14.

Awareness:  Milton Mudbottom of Frogmorton rolled a total of 18: a great success (same result if weary) using the The One Ring with a target of 14 ((10 (Feat Die), 2, 6)).

As you approach the Weather Hills, from a distance you see Jari leading the Company to a sheltered spot. The trail winds its way up a steep-sided hillock, one of the northwesternmost of the hills. At the top are a few tumbled stones that mark the watchtower that once stood here — long ago, there was a beacon fire here, signalling along the line of hills from the Road to Fornost Erain. You can see him pointing east and start to prepare a fire. Suddenly you can see a woman standing from behind a couple of small boulders twenty yards up the slope. She is a tall and slender woman. Gert has met her only once but is sure it is Gilraen, one of the most respected counselors of the Dúnedain of Eriador. You can not come close enough to hear what they are saying but it seems they have decided not to light a fire.

You see Gilraen speak for a short while with your companions before turning and starting to move west, into the dusk. When the party has made their camp and eaten you see Jari leave camp to head east.

Gert tells Milton to settle in for the night while she goes to rendezvous with Gilraen, and sets off immediately in hopes of catching up with the elder Ranger.

You do not have to move too far out of your way to intercept her. She moves at a brisk pace but you manage to catch up after a while.

When she notices you she stops and turns with a smile. "Gert. I had a feeling you were involved in this," she says.

Gert gives the elder Ranger due deference in greeting. "Lady Gilraen, well met. My companion Milton and I saw you speak with the others of our company. We agreed before leaving Bree that we would trail them in the event that the dwarf Jari or the southerner Diarmoc planned treachery. A trio of travelers appear to have been waylaid by orcs half a day south of here. We could not spare the time to bury them, alas, else risk losing the others."

Gilraen nods. "That seems like a possibility. I would ask that you are careful when entering the valley of Morglynd, there is no telling what awaits you." She falls silent for a moment to look up at the clear, star-filled sky and tales a deep breath. "Remember your training Gert and you will prevail. I must take my leave for now as I have pressing business in Fornost but I will make sure to visit you in Bree in a couple of weeks."

Gert nods in response and carefully makes her way back to where Milton has made camp for the night once Gilraen moves off.

Despite being well prepared your blankets have not been quite enough to keep the spring chill from your bones but eventually morning comes after a night without fire. The sky is entirely overcast today and the Weather Hills does not live up to it's name as the air is still and heavy, full of the earthy smell of wet grass. You notice that the main party seems to be in no rush to break camp today.

Gert reminds Milton on how to produce a dove's cry and instructs him to use it when the others finally break camp. "Jari wandered off to the east whilst the others made camp last night. 'Tis my intent to scout ahead along those bearings, see whether aught is amiss. I'll make the same call should I find such is the case."

As you make your preparations you see that the others finally break camp and head east.