A Land to Call Their Own RPG

[Regin Hardhammer]

Harold had been shocked to find his wife’s necklace gone and even more astounded to learn that several of his fellow Harfoots also seemed to be stripped of their possessions. He had brought this matter of thievery to Marcho’s attention eaerlier, but now the Whitfoot boy was being arrested. He just didn't seem like the type who would resort to stealing. On top of everything else, Marcho had been nowhere in sight when Fredigar dragged off Crispin.

Feeling slightly guilty for having initially spilled the news, Harold raced over to Marcho, bellowing out his news. "Come quick! Something's happened. Crispin's been arrested! Adelard claims Crispin is the thief and Kalimac looks as if he's about to blow his top."

Tugging on Marcho's sleeve, he hastily added, “ I just can't believe that. I’ve known Crispin since he was a little tike and he would never do something like this. Now that Adelard, on the other hand, I am well acquainted with as well, though not as favorably. He can be quite the embellisher when it pleases him. The lad’s not reliable in the slightest, if you ask me. I do think the real thief is out there and may well strike again. Believe me; I’m willing to help nab this fellow before he does anything worse.”

[alaklondewen]

As the wagons bumped along, Marcho silently brooded over the events of the last week. Crispin was still in the hands of Fredigar Headstrong, although his mother was permitted to visit him during breaks to ensure he was being fed. The accusations against the lad did not sit well with Marcho. He just could not envision his nephew as a thief in the night. Even though Marcho and Crispin had never spent a large amount of personal time together, the Fallohide knew his nephew had a good and honest heart. “How could this have happened?” He thought aloud.

“I do not know,” Estella answered quietly and placed her hand tenderly over her husband's. Mrs. Bolger had watched her husband toiling with his thoughts for days. “We must do something about it.”

The Bolgers remained silent for several minutes, each in his or her own reflection. “Marcho,” Estella began again, pausing momentarily to gather her thoughts. “Marcho, you must simply demand that Fredigar release Crispin.” Marcho opened his mouth to answer, but his wife cut him off and continued. “I mean it. You march over there and demand it.” Estella nodded her head matter-of-factly.

“It’s not as easy as that, Estella. You know that.” Marcho kept his eyes on the road, not looking at her as he spoke. “We don't know if he really did not…”

“What?!” Estella interrupted. “Marcho Bolger, you know as well as I do that Crispin would never have stolen that necklace…or anything else for that matter.”

“Yes, Dear, but Fredigar really believes that…”

“Fredigar Headstrong does not know his head from…from the underbelly of a goat. Hm…we can’t believe anything he says. Fredigar Headstrong…" Estella mumbled his name and shook her head negatively. “And Adelard Proudfoot!” Her voice rose in both pitch and volume. “That hobbit is the most spoiled…obnoxious, lying, rude, atrocious…hobbit I ever saw. We certainly cannot take his word as truth.” To make her point, Estella sat back and crossed her arms.

Marcho did not speak for fear of her temper. Estella was the most loving, sweet-spirited hobbit he knew, but when she wasn’t happy…well, let’s just say Marcho did not wish to cross her further. In his heart he knew she was right. Crispin needed to be released, but the scout was unsure how to go about it.

Another concern had continued to rise in his mind. If Crispin did not steal the necklace and other items…then who did? Harold had planted a seed in Marcho’s mind that he had mulled over since. What could they do to nab the real thief? This is surely what it would take to clear Crispin’s name. It didn’t help that nothing had been taken since the lad’s arrest, but if the thief was among them, then he could possibly be tempted and trapped.

During the travelers’ next rest, Marcho met with Kalimac and Harold and proposed they devise a trap for the thief. The trio sat huddled together behind the Whitfoots’ wagon and spoke in hushed voices. “Kal, do you have anything of value that we could make a fuss over to get some attention and then set out after dark?”

[Child of the 7th Age]

Garlin moaned and hung his head, pressing his fingers along the top of his brow. The incessant pounding in his head was making it difficult to concentrate.

The last few days were all a blur. Immediately after his successful venture into the Hobbit's camp, he had disappeared with his prizes, looking for a buyer. He had managed to pawn a number of things to some travellers on the road in return for a large leather pouch filled with foaming ale. He'd spent considerable time enjoying the contents of that pouch. But now it was empty: he was left with a headache, and wondering what he should do.

Garlin still had the topaz necklace that he'd taken from the last wagon he'd visited. His plan was to sell it for a tidy sum of cash. But to do that, he'd need to find a place where there'd be more ready buyers than could be found here in the middle of the woods. He seemed to have just two choices. Either he could head east towards Bree and sell the necklace, or ride west again to make a second visit to the Hobbit camp and 'borrow' a few more belongings.

The sensible thing would have been for Garlin to call it quits and cash in the piece of jewelry. But he was not thinking clearly, and the idea of conning the Hobbits twice in a row was beginning to sound very attractive. He knew from his previous stint of spying that the Hobbit convoy was moving at a snail's pace. He could probably catch up with them by late afternoon. Shoving the necklace to the bottom of his saddlebag, Garlin hastily mounted his horse and began following the deep ruts of the wagon tracks that led westward on the old road.

[Kransha]

Days passed, but hardly drearily. The whole time, Elsa was frantically on edge, Kalimac remained poised to pounce of Adelard, Alora had no idea what was going on, and the Chubbs didn’t seem to comfortable with the situation either. Crispin’s arrest had stirred a great deal of unrest among the Halfling caravan. The hobbits didn’t seem able to give each other straight looks or engage in conversation as they all theorized about what had actually happened, all except Fredigar and Adelard, who seemed to be very sure of what had occurred that night not long ago. Kalimac had almost stirred to the breaking point when he was called upon Marcho to rendezvous with both him and Harold Chubb, to his great surprise. Still stewing and seething over what to do, Kalimac met with them during the next uneasy rest period.

Marcho’s plan took him by surprise, but he definitely wasn’t against it. The scheme seemed to be the only way to convince that buffoon, Headstrong that Crispin was not the guilty party. As Marcho concluded his plan, both Kalimac and Harold gave understanding nods while Marcho turned to Kalimac and posed a simple enough question. “Kal,” he said smoothly, “do you have anything of value that we could make a fuss over to get some attention and then set out after dark?”

“Well, Marcho, I’ve a great many things of value,” Kalimac almost boasted, but quickly simmered down, considering the dire aspect of the situation. He thought for a moment, stammering slightly under his breath and he contemplated both the proposal of his half-brother and an adequate answer to the question queried to him. He scratched his chin pensively and kneaded his weary, sagging brow for a long moment as he summoned up some thoughts about the many valuables he carried in his wagon.

“Ummm…I do believe any thief would want…a purse of gold…” he murmured on, his words jumbled but still understandable, “I’m not sure if you’d rather I came up with a trinket of some kind, but if I were a thief, I would most certainly salivate over a pouch stuffed with gold coins. If it is a trinket you prefer, I have all manner of valuable things, but a purse of gold would do just as well, in my opinion.

[alaklondewen]

“You’re exactly right, Kal. An experienced thief, as this fellow seems to be, would drool over a bag of gold. Snatching something like this would save him the step of having to sell it elsewhere.” Marcho sat back and rubbed the tops of his legs considering their next move. “We need some attention brought to the purse.” The scout rubbed his chin and looked at the two hobbits. “What about your children, Harold? Yes, and Alora.” Marcho smiled as his thoughts began to take shape into something that resembled an actual plan.

“Marcho, I don’t know whether I want my daughter involved in this. After what Crispin has gone through, I don’t think Elsa and I could handle another mishap.” Kalimac burrowed his brows and Marcho sensed his sincerity.

“Kal, I think if you will hear me out, you will see Alora will be kept from any harm.” Kalimac nodded hesitantly, and Marcho continued. “Harold, if Henry and May will participate, this could work.”

“I will do what I can, Marcho, but I will have to hear your plan first and propose it to them.” Harold was thoughtful in his reply, and Marcho understood that Harold would never put his children in unnecessary danger either.

“This is what I propose...” Marcho began; his voice was kept low to ensure no one else could hear him. “The older children will be watching Alora play in and around the wagon. They were caring for her and Crispin before, so that should not seem at all suspicious. Alora can pull the purse from the wagon and show it to Henry and May. Here a bit of performing can take place. Henry and May will speak loudly of the gold…very impressed by it. Or maybe…maybe your father, Harold. Fordogrim certainly has a way about bringing attention to him. Whichever, we need enough focus from others drawn that the thief will be aware of the purse, then Alora will simply drop it on the edge of the wagon…uncovered. Making it an easy target.” Marcho paused to let his words sink in, then continued. “After the bait is in place, we simply wait for him to try to nab it. Let’s put Fordogrim on watch again so the atmosphere will be the same as the first night. We, three, will not sleep tonight, but we will pretend to be. Once the thief comes out, we will wait until he has the purse in his hand…then he’s ours.” Marcho looked at the Whitfoot and Chubb trying to gain insight into their thoughts. “What say you?”

[Witch_Queen]

It had been many days since Sarah had last talked with Fordo. Sarah didn't like the fact that Crispin was the one arrested for stealing her precious necklace. All she wanted was to have it back. Once the real crimminal was caught everything would be better for her and the rest of the travelers. "Grandpa, can I talk to you for a moment?" Sarah had to talk to someone and thought that perhaps Fordo would listen to her and not try to bring up the arguement from the past week. "I know we have our differences, but could I talk to you please?"

Sarah thought she was going to die when Fordo talked to her. "Quit pestering me Sarah, I said I would listen so start talking before I change my mind." She thought she heard him mutter something under his breath but decided to ignore it.

"Oh never mind.." Sarah decided that perhaps her problems shouldn't be told to Fordo. "Grandpa is it ok that I am regreting my decision to even come on this journey. I know that I'm the only one of the Chubbs that wanted to come. Now I just wish we could have stayed at home. Everything would be better. You wouldn't have hurt your leg and well I would never of found the mushrooms. I think you get my point. All I want to do is go back home and see my family happy for a chance." Sarah's voice told her entire feelings. She was sad and depressed and it wasn't because of her missing necklace.

Sarah actually wanted to go home. She wanted to have her family together and happy even if it only lasted for a few moments. Sarah was tired of the everyday cart ride with the chickens. To her the journey seemed like it would last for all eternity. Sarah's daughter hadn't talked to her for almost the entire trip. It's all because of me that my daughter and son won't even talk to me. I have ruined everything. I don't blame Fordo for saying anything bad about me. I'm an evil person. All I want is to be happy again and to have my husband and children be proud of something I did once more.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Harold listened to Marcho's plot and hesitently nodded his head. He did not particularly relish the idea of drawing the thief into the camp a second time. Once had been quite enough! But he desperately wanted to capture the scoundrel, and he could not think of a better way to do so.

As a young Hobbit, Harold had been involved in planning numerous mischievous pranks on neighboring farmers, but never anything as serious as this. His concern for May and Henry made him even more reluctant to agree. He wondered if the thief was armed. However, Harold reasoned that they would be in no real danger because the cowardly thief dare not strike before everyone was asleep.

Both Marcho and Kalimac seemed to be waiting for him to say something. Best speak up.... Harold told himself.

"Marcho, I think that that your plan is a good idea. Unless my children have bitter objections, I'll encourage them to do as you've suggested. But I will ask one thing. Let's all have our weapons handy in case this fellow is armed. We don't know how dangerous this thieving scoundrel is."

Harold glanced over in Kalimac's direction, who seemed to be nodding in agreement.

With a sigh, the Harfoot continued, "Normally, I'm not one for grand schemes, but there comes a point when a Hobbit has to stand up for what is right. Thieving isn't right, nor is keeping a good lad locked up when there's so little evidence. And this rogue will not get off with my Sarah's necklance. We're going to catch him and punish him for taking from so many hard-working Hobbits. I'm ready, Marcho!"

Kalimac spoke up quickly, "We're all agreed then. Let's bait a trap to catch our prey."

Harold added, "And if my guess is right, my father will be with us too."

The three shook hands on the agreement.