Farmer in the Dale RPG

[Kransha]

Over Dale flew Smaug the Golden, his radiant scales gleaming as coins of brightest gold in the light of the gently shining sun. The jewels on his breast were dulled as shadow found them, no light piercing them to be reflected down upon the ground so far below, and they did not glint as they had. But, exercising his flapping wings, the dragon swerved and spun, his body, serpentine but careful, spiraled downward and upward again, exposing the multitudinous gems encrusting his underside to the sky. Though none could see the true glory of Smaug the Magnificent from where they stood, he swelled with ominous pride, like a cloud bearing rain before a storm to rival all others, as his front shimmered so grandly, his form ablaze as bright fire. Then, abruptly ending his skyward acrobatics, flipping and twirling in the heavens, he dipped and plowed suddenly downward, seeking prey.

He swept himself, his two crumpled wings of scaly leather unfolding and unfurling with a grandiose flourish, sweeping out to each side to loom over the town. His head, atop a long and winding neck, cocked slightly to one side to see the rough slopes of the Lonely Mountain. He saw its ragged terrain, speckled with numerous rocks and boulders that lined it otherwise smoothly declining sides. He would change that soon, though, and set afire that mountain and all that hid ignobly within. That was his first goal, to see the mountain fall, is proud peak humbled by his fire, but first, he could enjoy the fruits of Dale as a brief interlude. He swooped down, his flying form barely hovering above trembling rooftops and the people that now inevitably wished to seek refuge beneath them. He careened over the buildings of Dale, over thatched and wooden roofs, gardens, fields, fences, and all manner of manmade establishment in the community. It was a rural place, yet untouched by the withering hand of industrialization that might leech the life from its fields, the green from its grass, and the many playful children from its dirt and cobblestone roads. Still the place was picturesque, painted by a natural instinct for beauty and added to by the race of man who settled there. But Smaug cared for none of this, since he did not doubt that whatever was rebuilt after his desolation of the areas would not retain its former tranquil innocence.

Finally spying the victims he sought, Smaug veered sharply to one side, the great gales of wind carried by his wings singed the houses he passed over, the many gusts following him ripping shingles from roofs and mortar from walls with its mighty force. Snorting a plume of billowing smoke, Smaug shot down, tearing over the countryside dotted with smaller structures until most of what lay below him were dappled fields of crops, pockmarked by confused livestock. Another demonic grin appearing on Smaug’s face, showing his countless, dagger-like teeth, the dragon swung himself up and uncoiled his legs beneath him, clenched palms opening to reveal glistening talons. Those claws hooked into the grass beneath him, ripping up dirt and soil, as the dragon alighted nimbly on the ground, sending the surrounding animals braying madly in the opposite direction. After the mild shockwave from his landing had settled and his perpetually moving wings had slowed their pace to a standstill, Smaug began to move, cautiously lifting one leg after the other and soon bounding across the fields, wings flapping again.

His gargantuan back legs shot out suddenly from under as his whole body surged forward along the swiftly rolling hills, scooping up several members of the scattering herds of cattle. After barely a minute, his front and back claws were filled with the noisy creatures, grunting and growling in bewilderment. Smaug, a dank laugh bubbling up in him, circled back into the air, spiraling back and forth again and dropping the beasts one by one, tossing them from his grip to plummet down helplessly. He heard the miniscule wails and shrieks of meager bystanders in the town, sprinting through the streets and seeking safety in homes. The sounds of fear ran rampant in the streets as Smaug let all his quarry drop, many clattering noisily onto the streets. Then, once his load was fully released, he fell again, his wingspan spreading and stretching until he’d reached the earth again. He tucked his legs and arms into their appointed places and his monumental jaws dropped open, smoke cascading from their corners. He buried the tips of his talon in the ground, tearing it easily asunder as his open mouth clasped around two more unfortunate creatures and eagerly devouring them without a thought, letting the minute bulk of each simply glide down his throat carelessly. After the four herd animals had ‘fallen’ into his waiting maw, he turned up again, tossing more sheep and cattle aside, letting them fly into the distance all around him. He swung himself, claws and wings out, across the fields, pondering his midday meal.

In a short time the fields of livestock were all but cleared, Smaug’s monstrous belly still not filled, and the town of Dale, in severe disarray, awaited Smaug’s coming. Leaving the last few lone beasts galloping over their sundered home, Smaug the Golden shot up and over the wooden fences that bordered all these open lands, heading back over the town. Again his jaws pulled open, but this time more oozing smoke dripped over his many teeth as a deep-rooted light grew behind his flickering tongue. He aimed his head down and a torrent of red and gold fire blossomed from him again, his narrowed eyes following its course down. He watched the prongs of flame stab mercilessly at the first few houses. They erupted beneath him, the tongues of fire dripping over them and enveloping each part of them until a row of three or four houses was completely aflame with the jets of crimson now spreading to other structures. Again he dipped low, letting another incendiary fountain burst from his gaping jaws. The force of it struck a house’s wall head on, crashing through feebly constructed stone and causing the building to cave in instantly, fire and dust spraying up around it to create a smoggy cloud of black and red that roared up into the sky, overshadowing most of the town as the fire at its epicenter consumed houses block by block.

Smiling again, another tremendous laugh brooding in his throat, Smaug plunged through the smoke, carrying some trailing plumes with him, clinging to the tattered edges of his wings and his curling tail. Now he hovered high above, his narrowed gaze straying from the blackening cloak over Dale to the ruptured ridges of Erebor. After more destruction, he would continue his assault on the mountain. He would have headed there many moments ago, but he always put pleasure before labor, and he felt he would get far more pleasure causing the inhabitants of a half-destroyed town to cower in fear than assaulting a mostly inanimate object. But, he knew that Erebor would be the more dangerous target. The weak forces in Dale might oppose him with stone and arrow, but his hide could withstand whatever they could throw. He would have to overtake Erebor soon. So, taking all this into account, he decided to conclude his fun with something particularly enjoyable, and then turn from Dale.

There had been a long, disquieting silence as Smaug lurked in the sky, despite the damage; the ant-sized forms below were now coming out into plain view, gathering in the streets. The dragon, though, was far from done on his rampage. Suddenly roaring with more monstrous laughter that filled the skies, using the blackened clouds of smog as rivers to carry its bombastic sound hither and yon, he dipped again towards the earth, aiming himself carefully at one of the unpaved streets of the town. Soon, the ground flew up to meet him and he pulled up sharply, opening his claws to the roads and tearing down the length of one such road. Every poor creature, man, dwarf, or otherwise, that lingered still on the road could not avoid him as he flew, many caught up in his groping talons, flung aside by the flailing span of his wings, or crushed beneath the bulk of his tremendous tail. Most who were not slain fell beneath the crumbling houses which he left in his wake, a trail of havoc that appeared behind him wherever he flew. As he completed the destruction on that road, Smaug leapt and soared into the air, high above the earth, again through the plumes of black smoke and then, emitting a most terrible roar, plunged down again to repeat the process.

[ArwenBaggins]

Arinn bounded from his seat and was immediately standing near his daughter. "Elanor!" He bent a bit and hugged her close, thankful that she was safe.

Straightening himself again, he touched his teenage daughter's shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you know where Eric is? Have you seen Eric?" He was practically yelling, but not out of anger. He was afraid for his youngest son. "Was Eric with you?" Elanor shook her head in defeat.

Eric had to be around somewhere, but where? Arinn nodded slightly, looking around frantically. He felt a small tug on his pant leg and looked down to see Eli's faerie-like eyes gazing up at him. "He pro'lly went 'sploring and got lost," Eli said softly, hoping that the answer was one his father wanted to hear. "He's pro'lly mad at me 'cause of what happened at lunch."

"Lost... with a..." he stopped. "A dragon about? Oh Lord." Arinn sank into his chair again, burying his head in his hands. He felt a warm hand on his back and looked up to his fretting wife. "I'll have to go and find him. I don't know where he is, but I must find him."

[Fallinel]

Rhysdan was close enough to recognize the two figures as his son Elian, and niece Elanor, and was relieved that they had avoided the dragon as it wreaked havok among the farms. The teenagers were climbing up some of the larger boulders, and appeared to be trying to gain a vantage point on the scene below. Rhysdan was proud that the two youngsters had the intelligence and maturity to avoid a dangerous situation, and to instead retreat and assess their options. He cried out a "Halloooo" to the teenagers, and called Hawkweed to his side as he began his rapid descent into the valley where the farms of Dale lay nestled.

As Rhysdan reached the outer circle of farms and fields, he could see evidence of the beast's rampage, but no sign of the dragon itself. The thatched roof of one large livestock shed on the Fairlake farm was aflame, and Rhysdan could hear the panicked screams of trapped horses and cattle in the burning structure. The Fairlakes were an older couple, whose daughters had left to help their husbands establish homesteads; it would not be possible for either Fairlake to rescue their animals, assuming that both man and wife were still alive.

Rhysdan ran quickly to the opening of the livestock shed, where he found Meryn Fairlake sobbing hysterically, "Please, help them!" Rhysdan commanded Hawkweed to stay outside, and ran into the breezeway between the stalls, shirt held over his mouth to cut out some of the smoke. Fortunately, most of the smoke and heat was rising away from the animals, and Rhysdan was able to free the majority of the cows and horses by simply unlatching the stall doors and slapping the beasts on the rump to send them out the breezeway to safety. One young colt, however, was panicked and frozen with fear and confusion in his stall, the furthest from the door. Rhysdan grabbed a halter and lead rope, as well as a large cloth used for rubbing down horses after a workout, and entered the colt's stall. He threw the cloth over the animal's head and eyes, and the horse immediately stopped rearing and struggling. Rhysdan fastened the halter on the colt, and led him out of the burning shed, just as some of the beams in the roof began to collapse.

Camon Fairlake had joined his wife, and the two had managed to divert their rescued livestock into a small safe paddock. The old farmer took the colt's lead rope and brought him to the paddock with the other animals, while Rhysdan sat on the ground and coughed for awhile from the inhaled smoke. Camon brought him a pail of cool water and a mug, and Hawkweed nuzzled against his master and wagged his tail.

"Meryn and I can't thank you enough for what you did, Rhysdan," said Camon, "but I expect that you'll be wanting to get back to your farm and family as soon as you catch your breath." Rhysdan drank some water, and got to his feet. He shook the old farmer's hand, and said, "None of us can fight this monster alone. We must meet and discuss the situation before the dragon returns. I expect that it has headed back to the Mountain to seek a hiding place or den. For now, Hawkweed and I will hurry off to our farm-I've seen Elian and Elanor up on the hill, but I'm desperately worried about my wife and daughter."

[Regin Hardhammer]

Eric roamed through the forest scanning the thicket for any signs of a clearing, but found none. He regretted chasing after the dragon so recklessly, getting himself totally lost. Although tired and hungry, he vowed to continue his search, pushing his aching body forward. This is no fun at all, he thought. Eric wondered what Eli was doing right now. He imagined his older twin being tucked into bed by Mamma and kissing her good night. Even though he had often been angry at his parents for favoring Eli, Eric still wished that he could hug them now and tell them that he loved them. He had never spent so much time alone in such a strange place.

Eric’s ears perked up as he heard the sound of flowing water just a few feet ahead. He rushed toward the noise and saw, to his astonishment, something that he did recognize, a wide river. His heart leapt as he remembered that he had often seen this river near his house and even played with his friends there. He also remembered that, afterwards he had forgotten to dry off before entering the house and his mother had given him a good scolding. Maybe, he hoped, she can scold me again when I get back for running off into the forest.

A little wooden rowboat lay on the bank and two oars were laid neatly inside it. Eric felt the squish of the wet mud between his toes as he approached the small boat. After pushing the boat into the river, he hopped in and began rowing. As the boat moved down the river, Eric’s attention drifted to the large fish swimming in the surrounding water and his stomach grumbled. If only I had brought my pole, he thought, I could have caught tons of them. The water splashing into the boat reminded him of the sizzle of fish being fried by his mother in the kitchen. He could almost smell them as he rowed. Eric remembered that his house was only a little farther down. After a couple of minutes he stopped where he was sure his house was and got out.

He walked a ways down the path when he realized that his jacket was wet, and he did not want to catch a chill, so he cast it aside. The jacket had once belonged to Eli and Eric had never particularly cared for it. Now thoroughly exhausted from rowing, he laid down in a bed of soft pine needles underneath a towering tree. It was not like the soft bed he had at home, but it was the best alternative he had seen all day. As Eric closed his eyes, he felt happier than any other time in his life. He was going home.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Elanor was relieved to have found her way back to her family, but somehow things did not seem so safe and happy when her brother Eric was not with them; he was probably lost, out wandering somewhere on the hillside with no idea of where he was or how he could get home. All those times Eric had put frogs or grass snakes in her bed quickly faded from her mind. Instead she remembered a sweet, tan-skinned boy with an unkempt mop of chestnut curls who was always doing silly things so that she couldn’t help but laugh. When her father had asked her if she knew where Eric was, Elanor couldn’t help but feel it was partially her fault that he wasn’t here. She should have checked on him before leaving the house. Elanor shook her head and sighed, listening carefully to what her mother was saying.

At her father’s announcement that he was about to leave and look for Eric, Elanor quickly piped up in the hope that she could make amends, “Please father, let me come too. I know most of Eric’s secret hiding places where he’d be likely to go and hide.”

In response to his sister’s query, Elian began to jump up and down, “Me too! Me too!”

At this point, Willow spoke in a calm but tense voice, “Let’s use some sense here. Dad and Elanor can go out and search the area around the farm, all the sheds and fields and the little stream that runs off the river. That shouldn’t take too long. He’s probably off playing somewhere on the farm. I’ll stay here with Eli for the moment. You never know. Your brother might find his way back on his own. Let’s meet back here in a little while.”

“But what if we don’t find him?” Elanor interrupted. She pointed towards the open window. Outside, the sun was setting. In another hour or so, it would be completely dark, and much more difficult to search.

“If we don’t find him…?” Willow’s face turned pale but she was careful to respond with a calm voice. “I’m sure we will. He doesn’t usually run off. But if something has happened, we’ll organize a search. I’m sure Uncle Rhysdan and Aunt Esmerelda and their children will help us, if we need them.”

At that point, there was an audible shuffling noise coming from the front hallway. Elian had pushed the door open and made his way inside as was often his custom of doing. The young lad immediately spoke up, “We sure will help! But I needed to tell you something. My mom and little sister are at home. But dad still hasn’t come. Mom is sure he’ll be back any minute, and he probably will. But, just in case, I’m going to start poking around the neighborhood and take Daisy with me, like Aunt Willow suggested. Mom will be helping too, but keeping an eye on the house in case dad gets home. I’ll keep my eyes open for Eric as well. If either of them aren’t back by nightfall, my family can meet you here in your house, and we can see about that search.”

Elanor noticed that, when Elian talked, he sounded much older than he ever had before. She hoped she could sound so calm and certain. It would not help if everyone got so frightened they couldn’t think clearly. Determined to be helpful, she added, “Elian’s right. We’ll get a lot more done if we all go out looking and have a plan. First, let’s check the farm itself and meet back here shortly. I’ll go ask some of the neighbors if they’ve seen my brother. But if that doesn’t work….” Elanor’s face turned somber. “Should we go out searching at night? Or wait till the morning?”

Her mother responded with a gentle smile, “Let’s hope we won’t need to do that. But if we do, we’ll talk about it later. Now everyone off to where they need to go. Let’s start looking and see if we can come up with our two missing culprits.”

With that the group split up, each one going to do what they’d promised. As Elanor went out the door, she muttered to herself, “Let’s just hope that monstor has flown away from here and won’t turn up on our doorstep.” Elanor pushed those thoughts aside. Right now, she had a job to do: to find her brother and Uncle Rhysdan.

[ArwenBaggins]

Arinn walked swiftly from the house, following his daughter and nephew. Frankly, he had listened to very little of what was said. He was not one to worry on any normal occasion, comforting his sons (and even Elanor sometimes, although she denied it entirely) during storms and the time the year before when a robber tried to steal a cow. No, he didn't worry much, but with his youngest son missing with all of the evident danger, he had the right to fret.

All he had heard was that they were searching the farms first and elsewhere later. He also knew that time was against them. The sun was sinking faster than normal it seemed, as if playing a wicked game with the farmers of Dale. "Elanor, search out by the stream and the other hiding places of Eric's that you know of. Don't stray too far," he called to his daughter as she headed off to the right, followed by Elian. Another child missing couldn't be handled.

Searching thoroughly the dusty corrals and sheds, Arinn found nothing but thirsty horses and a few rabbits. He rubbed the muzzle of his chestnut mare, pushing away her sweaty forlocks. "Sorry girl... I'm looking for Eric right now." He wanted to ask her if she had seen his little boy, but he knew that the horse couldn't speak back to him. Oh, if only it could!

"Eric Roland Millwind, where are you?" he yelled loudly yet hopelessly as he left the mare, ignoring the gate entirely and jumping over the fence. He knew that Rhysdan was also missing, but he hoped that Esmerelda or Elian and Daisy would find him- right now, he was concerned about his son.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Elanor climbed to the top of the old wooden fence and sat down on the upper railing, curling her fingers around the nearby fencepost for added support as she stared at the surrounding plain. For the past hour she had been searching all over the farm, investigating every cranny where she knew her brother sometimes hid. Despite her efforts, she'd found nothing. Even the neighbors claimed not to have seen Eric, but most of them had been so involved in rounding up family members that Elanor wondered if they would even remember a small boy slipping though the fields. At least, she had not had any trouble with the dragon. He seemed to be lying low for the moment.

The sun had sunk below the horizon; only a tiny wisp of light remained in the skies. With a rueful shake of her head, Elanor climbed down again and then trotted back in the direction of her home. She had not gone more than a dozen paces when she heard a sound over her shoulder. Halting for a moment to glimpse back, Elanor noticed a familiar figure sprinting towards the south, trying to catch up with her.

"Elian!" she cried out in greeting.

"Yes, it's me. And I have news. I went further north of here, about a half a mile, and came across Farmer Brand. This, afternoon, he saw Eric. Brand was rounding up his herds right after the wyrm was sighted. Eric was racing southeast through the fields, all by himself, heading towards the river; he was apparently doubling back chasing after the dragon, who was going in broad circles."

Elanor's face blanched white at the idea that her brother could be so far away from the house and that he'd been running after the dragon instead of away from him. She only hoped that the dragon hadn't noticed him. Fighting back tears, she responded grimly, "And your father, Elian? Have you seen him?"

"No. But I think dad will be alright. I am more worried about your brother."

"Let's go back then," urged Elanor, "and tell the others. Maybe your father is there by now. Anways, it's getting dark and we can't go running off on our own. My dad and mom will know what to do."

With that, they turned around and continued together.