Hunted RPG

[piosenniel]

The sky was a leaden grey; the clouds, heavy with rain, scudded close together in the chilly wind . . . threatening . . .

Two days out of Bree brought the Hobbits just past the Barrow-Downs. Another day’s travel would bring them well into Buckland. Madoc’s mood, which had lifted somewhat at the generosity of the good people of Bree, grew heavier with each mile. ‘I should be happy,’ he murmured to himself. One of the ponies drawing the heavily laden wagon twitched its ear back at him as if to catch the Hobbits fleeting words. Madoc sighed and clucked encouragingly at the team to pick up its speed. ‘The sooner home to my sister and mother, the better,’ he said to the inquisitive pony, ‘the sooner I can shake this feeling of gloom and unease.’

It was late afternoon, and the little band of companions was beginning to slow down. Gorby had gone on ahead just a little and now came running back down the road toward the wagon. ‘I’ve found us a nice little place just off the road. Just round that curve there,’ he said, pointing back in the direction from which he’d come. ‘There’s a small clearing with some trees on the edges to block the wind. And a nice little stream . . . the ice is thin on it – no problems drawing water.’

The other hobbits gathered round the wagon. All were tired and hungry, ready for some hot tea and a little food. ‘Let’s go, then, Gorby,’ said Madoc, taking hold of the pony’s bridle. ‘You lead and we’ll follow along.

Soon they had pulled into the safety of the clearing. Gorby and one of the others went to gather wood for a little fire while the rest set up their little camp. Madoc began freeing the ponies from their harness and led them to a place where there was a little dried grass left for them to munch on. The ponies seemed a little restless, but he shrugged their actions off as them just being nervous about being in a strange place. He fetched some hay from the wagon for them, and as he was laying it on the ground for them, a small whiff of icy breeze against his neck made him shiver.

‘Pull yourself together,’ he admonished himself. ‘We’re almost to the Shire. Nothing to worry about.’

He shivered again though the wind was still . . .

[ElenCala Isil]

Ivy lagged behind all the others, staring at the sky in all its gloominess. Occasionally one of the hobbits would yell at her to hurry up and she'd sprint forward absent-mindedly until she nearly ran into someone. She wondered how the folk in the Shire were faring, and if and what the grey skies could mean. A brittle chill engulfed her body and she shivered, along with everyone else, it seemed. She grabbed onto her coat tightly and scurried forth to catch up with the group once more.

They were all fairly silent, only speaking a few words here and then, and Ivy said nothing. She was excited, and who could blame her? All her life she wanted to actually go on an adventure, and she did. She battled with wolves and made it to Bree, and now came the sweetest part of the journey, if not the most bothersome. The journey home. She inhaled deeply, letting the chill air into her lungs and exhaled after the cool became too much to handle. She decided that the silence was too much for her, and she scampered off to the front of the group and walked alongside the ponies. She hummed one of her favourite walking songs in hope that just maybe one of the others would recognise it and pick it up. Her voice seemed to echo softly and absorb into their chill surroundings. No one picked the tune up at all.

They would take the occasional small break, but it was never anything much, and it seemed to Ivy that they were all slightly on the edge and fairly alert. Whether this was because they were anxious, or they suspected another attack like the one on the journey to Bree, Ivy did not know. But she dearly hoped it was not the latter, though the thought had been growing on her mind ever increasingly.

Oh, I do hope we get back home soon! she thought to herself, something just doesn't seem right... the thought of the attack of wolves flooded into her mind, and she saw Estelle and the others die slowly, though she did not witness it firsthand. She cringed and walked on.

[Niluial]

They all walked close together for there was an eerie feeling in the air and no one felt safe or comfortable. No one spoke a word, they just looked around at the snow covered trees and the black rocks that stuck out of the icy ground. The leafless trees stood tall, covered in snow but they looked creepy for there were many of them. It was like walking through a forest without any green, just gloomy white, dark browns and black with a grey sky above them.

Melody shivered, “this place is giving me the creeps” she whispered to Tom and Ivy. They both nodded but didn’t say anything. Melody looked at Madoc who looked a bit pale, “Is everything ok? Are you feeling sick? Maybe you should get in the wagon” Melody said quickly not giving Madoc a chance to say anything.
“I am fine; I just have this odd feeling inside.” He whispered.

There was silence again and all they could hear were the cries of wild dogs in the distance and the whispering trees. Melody suddenly halted, “Can you smell that?” She said as quietly as possible. Everyone stopped and sniffed the air all looking confused and frightened.
“Yes” Madoc replied, “It smells like burning wood, a outside fire.”
“Odd, who would be out here?” Melody said with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Well” Tom paused, “Maybe travellers? But why would they be in this cold? Who in there right mi…” Tom gasped.
“What is it Tom? Tom!” Melody said looking all around.
“That… looks like… no!” Madoc looked “an orc camp! Quickly hide or do something.”

Melody and Ivy hid behind a rock and looked into the distance where the camp was she looked at the one orc who was pointing in their direction.
“We’ve been spotted Ivy, we’ve been spotted!” Melody cried softly.

[piosenniel]

Madoc pulled Ivy and Melody down behind the cover of the rock. ‘’Stay low,’ Tom said to them nodding at Madoc. ‘We’ve got to get back to the others . . . and quickly.’ He crouched down and scurried quickly back the way they came, ducking behind trees and rocky outcroppings as they went.

No sound of footsteps hurrying after them came to Madoc’s ears as they neared the little encampment and stood up sprinting toward their little group. ‘Orcs!’ he yelled out. ‘Grab your weapons!’ Get out the pitchy brands from the wagon and light them from the fire,’ he yelled to Gorby and Hob. ‘We can keep some of them at bay with the flames.’

The doughty Hobbits readied their weapons, gathering behind the big wagon for protection. It stood between them and the direction of the Orc camp; at their back was a small rocky outcropping that would also afford them some protection.

Gorby was the first to see the approaching Orcs, coming straight at them. There were six of them, their great leering faces hideous in the late afternoon light. He raised his knife and ran toward the Orcs, hoping to draw them off from the others as he feinted to his left. One of the uglier fellows came rushing after him, and Gorby threw his knife, hitting the Orc in the chest.

With a gurgle, the beastly creature keeled over. Gorby rushed to the fallen Orc and knelt down, preparing to take back his knife. A look of quick surprise followed by dismay fell over his features as an arrow shot by one of the craven creatures found its mark. Gorby crumpled to the ground, his life’s blood spilling into the brown grass.

With a cry, Madoc and the others began firing their arrows at the bloodthirsty Orcs, along with stony missiles flung with deadly accuracy from their slings. Surprise turned to anger from the Orcs, and the remaining five charged after the Hobbits, seemingly heedless of the knives, clubs, and sharpened staves that now came out to meet them . . .

[ElenCala Isil]

Ivy stood, having strayed from where Madoc had dragged her to, staring wide-eyed at the orcs before her. A voice behind her shouted out "Move, Ivy!" and without thinking she pulled her knife violently from her apron, leaving a nice rip in her skirt. She charged out towards the orc closest to her, lunging with all her strength to insert the knife wherever she could. The orc snarled at her in small agony from the tiny pierce of Ivy's small knife. As she came about her senses, she let out a yelp. The orc advanced towards her, the knife still embedded in its leg. She turned round to run quickly. As if it was placed strategically to trip her, Ivy stumbled over a felled tree branch, and was flat on the ground, where she dare not move a muscle. She was panged with the thought that the others might be in worse danger. Melody! she yelled out to herself, closing her eyes tight.

The foul stench of the orc approached Ivy, it's stagnant shadow cast over her body like a dark veil, and a small drip of its blood fell on her arm. She stifled a scream at the feel of the drop, and turned round instantly. The orc loomed above her, holding a knife of its own. Ivy, wide eyed tried to back away slowly. There were voices, voices screaming at her to run.

"IVY!" came the shrill voice of Melody as she spotted her good friend. Ivy couldn't see her. She could see nothing but the orc before her. The orc made a strike at Ivy, but she darted to and fro. Yet that was not enough to stop the knife from piercing her leg. She let out a scream of pain, that was answered with a cry of terror from Melody. The orc turned round to see to whom the shriek belonged to. Ivy seized this opportunity to scream out to her friend. "Melody! Run away! They heard you!!" she gasped at the top of her lungs. She saw Daisy from the corner of her eye, gasping in horror to see Gorby's body, lifeless; but the image was quickly gone when Daisy decided to make a plunge for the orcs near them. Tom, she could not see, nor Melody, but she hoped they would be safe.

Meanwhile, she looked around frantically for anything to throw at the orc while it was distracted. Picking up a good sized stone, she flung it at the evil creature with all her might. It staggered around for a moment, but did not seem to be hurt from the blow, simply angry. It let out a warning, so it would seem, and struck again, this time with much more precision.

Ivy screamed as the blade went in, and for a brief moment it seemed that she could see the Shire again, but it was not so. As the pain sunk in fully, she closed her eyes, which would not open again; and she drew her last breath.

[Orofaniel]

"Gorby!!!" Daisy screamed with her voice full. She had watched Gorby die when the arrow had hit him. She ran towards him, standing over him, while she tried to loosen the arrow. She felt so helpless...what could she do? Then suddenly she could see that Gorby still wasn’t dead. His eyelids were flickering. "D-aisy.." He muttered under his own breath. It was like a silent whisper, which was hard to catch. "Yes..yes! It's me..." Daisy said, while a tear was running down her cheek. She wiped it off quickly with her left hand, while holding Gorby's head p with the other hand. "Don't die Gorby!" Daisy said while breathing heavily. She was panicking.

"Help me!" She whispered so no one but herself could hear it. The truth was that no one was here to help her, or for that matter Gorby, this time. They were fighting the Orcs while she watched her dear friend Gorby die...slowly, but for certain. There was absolutely nothing she could do.

"I'm sorry, Gorby.." Daisy said, she was now crying. Her eyes were already swollen, and her cheeks were wet.

"N-no, don't be dear Daisy," Gorby said finally. He seemed weak, like he was soon about to take his last breath. "I'm sorry...for not telling you who I really am...who I really was. I’m nothing but a simple thief." He muttered slowly. Daisy tried to understand what Gorby had just said, but her mind had focused on his lovely curly red hair. "I don't care Gorby....remember, you set out for this journey because you wanted to help people...so the Hobbits of the Shire could get through another winter. This special journey makes you a hero, not a thief." Daisy said, while crying even more. She couldn't stop the tears from coming, they just came.

"B-but why didn't you say anything?" Daisy asked quickly. She knew it was a stupid question, because he was dying and this wasn't a really good time for questioning- But somehow, she just had to know.

"I thought...that a pretty lady as yourself wouldn’t want to talk to me if I told you who I really was.." Gorby said at last. "But...now, it's over. Just get those supplies safely to the Shire, so I can die knowing that the Hobbits won't starve...and that I didn't die all in vain..." Gorby said. His eyelids were flickering again. His wound was now surrendered by a huge pile of blood "I will dear Gobry..I will.." Daisy said at last, and then she kissed his forehead. In that moment, she knew he was gone. She also knew what she had to do.

*

"This is for Gorby you filthy Orc!!" Daisy cried as she picked up a knife she found close by, while running towards the nearest Orc.

[dragoneyes]

Hob looked about him, he was all but out of arrows, not that they had been doing too much anyway, and the only thing standing between him and the orcs were his friends. He couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let them die without doing anything to protect them. He'd only known death by illness and old age, but now he could do something to stop his friends dying, so they could live to see long and happy lives, or at least summer.

With this thought in his head he pulled and old carving knife out of his pack, hoping it would slice living meat as well as it had done dead and cooked meat. He took a deep breath and charged, bellowing at the nearest orc. His voice joined and merged with the screams, yells and growls of the scene around him. He could see the dead body of Ivy and in his mind's eyes of Estelle and Meri. Every thing seemed so hopeless, but Hob was not one to give up all hope.

The knife slid into the orc's side, the orc's arm stopped where it was throwing a knife and it looked down at Hob, surprised. Hob smiled, almost politely as he would to an old gaffer he met walking down the rooad, but a fire was burning in his eyes and it told a different story; either he or the orc would die.

The orc's arm moved too quickly for Hob to react and he found himself with a hand around his throat and it was slowly lifting him upwards towards the orc's face. With one hand Hob tried vainly to pull the hand away from him while the other flailed around looking for something that may be used as a weapon. He found something. His hand closed around the last arrow in his quiver, flipped it out and stabbed it into the arm that attached him to the orc. The orc yelled and threw him across the battle. He landed on something soft, winded and his throat was burning with a fire worse than any sore throat he'd ever had. He rolled onto his front so he could stand up and found himself face to face with the deathly pale visage of Gorby, no breath was coming from his lips.

Hob yelled hoarsely in horror and crawled off the body. He slowly stood up, clutching his stomach and gulping the air down, his eyes fixed on Gorby's pale face. Then his legs were swept from underneath his and was once more staring into the face of the orc. The orc pulled the knife out of his side and without any further hesitation, stabbed it through Hob's chest.

The world stopped.

Hob tried to gasp as the pain shot through his body, but his broken lungs couldn't allow it. With no last breath to breathe, his mind floated to a place where there were no orcs, no arrows, swords or spears but where his mother was waiting for him and the smell of blossom on the apple trees was no longer just a memory and he could work all day with the sun on his back and stare up at the stars at night without his breath obscuring the view. Then, he was gone.