Farmer in the Dale Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

The purpose of the story is to: Escape from Smaug and the destruction of Dale and the surrounding land.

This means we will know the story is over when: The characters have been safely transported across the River Running.

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Starting Location: Dale

Likely destination: Across the River Running

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place in the 3rd Age at around year 2770.

Storyline itself or plot covers 7 days.

This game requires a time commitment of 4 weeks from me, the game owner, and from the major players.

[piosenniel]

Characters needed: – Mortals of Dale

Character types that would not belong:

Any races other than mortal, and anyone living somewhere other than Dale.

[piosenniel]

CHARACTER LIST

** The Whitfields and Millwinds are next door neighbors **

Millwind Family

Parents

1.) Father - Arinn Elden Millwind (39y/o) - ArwenBaggins

2.) Mother - Willow Millwind (34y/o - sister of Mr. Whitfield ) - Araréiel

Children

1.) Daughter/Oldest Child - Elanor Millwind (14y/o) - Child of the 7th Age

2.) Son/Older Twin – Eli Ross Millwind (6y/o) - ArwenBaggins

3.) Son/Younger Twin – Eric Roland Millwind (6y/o) - Regin Hardhammer

~*~

Whitfield Family

Parents

1. Father (Willow Millwind's brother/Arinn Millwind's brother-in-law) - STILL NEEDED

2. Mother - STILL NEEDED

~*~

Children

1.) Daisy Whitfield - 8y/o girl - Nurumaiel

2.) Elian Whitfiled - 14y/o boy - Carry along character ONLY; may be used by other players as needed.

~*~

Dragon

1. Smaug – Kransha

[piosenniel]

Dedicated Character

Profile for Kransha’s character:

NAME: Smaug the Golden, the Dreadful, the Tremendous, the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities, the Mighty, the Impenetrable, and the Magnificent. (Note: Called Tragu in the language of Dale)

AGE: Unknown (presumably bred in Angband)

RACE: Dragon (Fire-drake)

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Naught but his teeth, claws, tails, and fiery breath.

APPEARANCE: Smaug is a great dragon, red-gold in color. He bears a pair of large, leathery wings as well. He has many hard, jagged, golden scales covering him like armor for protection, but a pale underbelly which is encrusted with sparkling gems lies below. There is, of course, a bare patch in the hollow of his left breast, but he doesn’t know that.

PERSONALITY: One of the many intelligent dragons, Smaug is fluent in the common tongue and very cunning. His powerful gaze can cast dragon-spells upon those who look upon it, and he can compel those to do his bidding, whatever it may be. He is particularly fond of riddling and is often lulled into conversation with his prey, but only a clever few have managed to escape his fiery wroth when it comes. Though he is mostly as cunning and intellectual as he thinks himself to be, he sometimes gets caught up in that, as well as thoughts of himself. As grand as he appears to others, he is at least twice as grand to himself, his only arrogant flaw.

HISTORY: Little or nothing is known of Smaug the Magnificent before he arrived from the northern regions in the year 2770 of the Third Age. He was presumably bred with the other dragons of Melkor in the pits of Angband, but this is an unknown fact. He is one of the last, possibly the last, of the Fire-drakes, and the greatest dragon of his day. Whatever secrets he knows of his past before his descent upon Erebor and Dale he plans to (and eventually did) take to his grave.

~*~

Kransha’s post - Smaug

The eyes of the dragon, keen and sharp with malevolent pupils focused intently upon the lands that stretched far a wide beneath his soaring bulk, blinked together in an eerily rhythmic succession as the monstrous creature, the golden being lurching along through the river of the sky, neared his goal. Vague, pulsating embers lurked beneath the cold orbs set into his dragon skull and wafting plumes of smoke curled from the narrow gaps between his jagged fangs, jutting out from a pair of thick, muscular jaws that snapped together in anticipation. In the distance, not far beneath the red-gold form, there sat a single mountain rising out of the flat plane of the earth. The flat length of land around its sloping sides were dotted with some isolated tree groves and a minute stretch of woodland. Rising and dipping from the protuberant southern spur of was a thin line of water, a running river that looped gracefully around the crags of mountainous rock. At one end of the structure that was carefully laced into the mountain face, there were stairs and the indication of a modest gate, which presumably led in somewhere, the goal of Smaug. Therein, he knew, lay heaps of fantastic trinkets, baubles, bangles, precious stones, and a vast mélange of glittering objects that the excitedly vigorous dragon could assimilate into his hoard.

Smaug the Magnificent had not descended from his perch in the north for longer than even he, the mighty dragon himself, could recall accurately. His grounds for ‘nesting’ as the chattering aviary creatures around him dubbed it, where now vacant, probably inhabited by some unworthy band of thieving birds who had alighted there unknowingly. But, he would soon find a new lair, a place to lay his weary head in times of weariness that was no longer bleak and dreary, but altogether magnificent, decked in full with the spoils that Smaug would collect from each and every wretched mortal in these lands who had a particle of necessary wealth upon it.

As a sinister grin peeled across Smaug’s scaly lips, the dragon’s wings turned up with drastic force, causing his bulk to arch forward and veer down, honing in on the rough mountaintop. He soared, with as much grace as was possibly for a being of his tremendous size, down through the last thin, shriveled wisps of ivory cloud. He wheeled about through the air, watching with narrowing eyes, glowing with faint and gleeful fury, as the lonely cone of rock, worn away by years of wind, rose up to meet him while he fell, stretching his arms and legs out to each side with talons ready and eager, wings flapping madly against any meek gust that tried to stand in his way.

His mouth, the whole gaping maw of it, suddenly opened, each monumental jaw stretching with his glinting teeth pulled back into his ferocious face and a great and terrible light, brilliant red with orange fringes that flickered outward like feathery capes, began to well up in the pit of his throat. Soon, the building surplus of flame began to billow out like foamy waves which worked their way out from the gates formed by Smaug’s daggers of fangs. As his throat swelled, pulling in a gargantuan gust of air that filled his innards to the brim, he let loose the breath. From Smaug came a searing, blinding pillar of fire that spiraled down and stretched out like two giant hands and countless jagged talons that wrapped around the side of the mountain, burning away the rock itself. The dragon wasted no time in propelling himself from side to side through the sky’s ocean, zigzagging madly about as murderous gusts of fire bubbled up from him and poured out onto to the mountain. He burst out column after column of the searing red, its fringed edges lapping at the rocks and the force of each blast sending up a spray of dust, rock, and rubble from each point of impact. The mountain began to feel the sting of his mighty attacks, by now checkered with blotches of ashen rock that had been charred into disintegrating rubble by the intense heat of the dragon’s breath. As he continued his maniacal assault, his fiery eyes turned up, away from the current target of his incendiary strategy, and looked off into the distance, towards the cleansing river and south.

He saw a new goal. He would certainly return to this mountain, try to get inside and claim his wealth, but he had to eliminate the scent of man and dwarf from these lands as best as he could. Beneath him once again was a city, or town, or some gathering glade of houses and structures that dotted the southern slopes of the Lonely Mountain, looking with a calmed serenity out onto the looping river that ran down from its source in the mountain’s side. A more narrow, almost voracious grin began to grow on Smaug’s face as he turned around the mountain, still spouting flame bursts every few seconds as he turned, extending his magnificent wings perpendicular to the plain below and turning his glittering, gem encrusted underbelly towards the ruined, crumbling side of the mountain.

Slowly, holding in his breath as he dipped again, Smaug the Golden headed towards Dale…

[piosenniel]

ArwenBaggins, the game owner will play 2 characters:

1.) NAME: Arinn Elden Millwind

AGE: 39

RACE: Mortal of Dale

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Arinn, though a farmer, has a sword with him at all times. He has a good arm, and will hurl rocks when he feels like it.

APPEARANCE: Arinn Millwind is tall and lean- farming leaves no time to gain weight and his height helps him in his job. His eyes are dim blue-gray like the sky in the shadow of the mountains. His hair is deep mahogany falls in waves to Arinn's mid-shoulders. He has a five o' clock shadow, outlining his angular chin. His skin is slightly tanned from his hard work in the sun.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Arinn has a serious demeanor, especially when farming or making important decisions. While not a harsh father, he makes sure that his children obey the rules. He does let a little white lie or rock thrown slip through every once and a while, but makes sure he doesn't hear about it again. He believes in strong family ties and telling the truth. Arinn loves the peace the early morning and late evening bring; after his day working, he will sit with his wife and children and watch the sunset behind the mountains.

HISTORY: Arinn Elden Millwind is the second of six children. His oldest sister lives with a respectable warrior in Rohan. The other four children (three brothers and two sisters) live scattered across Dale and Gondor.

At age 23, Arinn married (name of wife undecided) Whitfield, the daughter of a local merchant. They have a daughter, and two twin six-year-old boys, born in 2764.

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2.) NAME: Eli Ross Millwind

AGE: 6

RACE: Mortal

GENDER: Male - twin

WEAPONS: Eli carries only a few rocks in his pocket for protection.

APPEARANCE: Eli is taller than most six-year-olds, but not by much. He has tanned skin and is usually sunburned on his frequently bared feet because his skin is very tender and sunburns easily. His eyes are the main focal point of this young boy- the left is a bright sea green, the other a bright gray, giving him a fey and whimsical look. They are always wide, looking for new places to explore. His hair is dangling uneven about his ears, light and sandy brown in color. He was a sickly baby, and gets sick very easily.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Eli is a quiet boy, like his father. He likes to explore and "be a big boy", trying to help his father whenever he can. While he isn't extremely vulnerable in the sun because of his sickness, shade is a preferred sanctuary when romping and playing. He often gets in trouble for wandering off; his mother is over-protective. Eli can not be trusted with secrets- they will slip out before you can tell the whole secret. His brother is his best friend- they love sneaking off and switching places.

HISTORY: Eli is the second child of Arinn and (name not known) Millwind, the oldest of a set of twins. He and his family are close, and family values are important.

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ArwenBaggins’ post FIRST FOR GAME AFTER SMAUG

"Eli, hand me a stake," Arinn Millwind was kneeling in a garden amongst growing corn and okra. A young boy, straddling a row of green beans, walked quickly toward his father with a sharp wooden stake in his small, tanned hand.

He dropped to his knees and handed his father the piece of wood, wiping a large pearly bead of sweat from his forehead. "Here ya go Papa… whatcha plantin' now?" Eli picked up a handful of dark brown soil, a worm wriggling up his short finger.

Arinn took the stake and nodded in thanks and used the pole to straighten a feeble tomato seedling. He then mopped his forehead and held the small of his back, standing slowly. The sun blazed down upon the farm in Dale, the workplace of the Millwind family. "Come on in with me Eli; 'tis probably time for lunch… where's your brother?" Eli stood as well, shrugging and running off toward the house about half a mile away. "I wish he'd slow down once and a while! He will overheat!" he shook his head, laughing slightly at his energetic son, and walked briskly toward his home.

His wife met them on the porch. "Lunch is ready, my big men!" she kissed Arinn and rubbed Eli's messy waves of dust-color. After the boy dashed into the open door and skidded to a stop in the kitchen with his older sister and younger brother, the woman leaned in close to her husband and pushed a lock of sweaty chestnut hair from his ear, whispering: "How was he today? You did not have him sit in the sun too long, did you?"

"No dear. He sat under the dogwood tree most of the time- he came out for naught of five minutes to hand me a stake and hurry home. Do not worry," He kissed her forehead and entered their home.

Arinn sat at the table, between his daughter and his youngest child, a son. "Gimme my rock back!" Eli kicked the other twin in the shins underneath the table, trying to choke back tears. "Papa! Mama! He won' gimme my rock back!" Arinn cast a swift, austere look to the boy, who immediately dropped the shiny, polished, gray rock. Eli smiled weakly and sat back in his chair, dropping the rock in his pocket. It was a rock given to the boy by his father, a precious gift that he treasured with all his heart.

It's normal… Arinn forced himself to think. Fighting was a normal part of having children. He didn't like it, but it was normal.

*****
Only roughly a dozen miles away, a large, ominous shadow flew over Erebor, the very edge of the dark silhouette growing dangerously closer to Dale. Arinn was again outside, working without rest on the planting of the season. Eli, seemingly unseperable from his father, sat in the cool shade beneath the dogwood tree, the smooth gray stone lying in his hands.

Suddenly, a loud but distant screech was heard, and Arinn looked up instantaneously toward the shadow. "A dragon…!" He muttered under his breath in disbelieve. "Eli! A dragon! We need to get home and warn everyone. ELI?" Arinn pulled himself from the ground and looked around frenetically, calling his son's name.

Eli had already taken off. He heard his father yelling behind him, but he would catch up, wouldn't he? He would suspect that Eli was a smart enough boy to run home, wouldn't he? "Papa! I'm over here!" a rising wind and the rustling of field grass soon drowned his voice out.

His legs were growing weak; he wasn't used to running this long and far. He stopped for a moment and twirled frantically, looking and yelling for his father without answer. Deciding that it was absolutely necessary that he got home, he continued running, running, toward the seemingly-safe confines of his home.

"Eli! Eli? Where are you?" Arinn cast another quickly glance toward the north, but then turned his eyes back to the land in front of him. Where was his son?

Eli could not run any longer. With one last scream, he collapsed amidst the tall millet. His breath came slow and he moaned like a small wounded animal. Arinn found him five minutes later, lying sprawled on his stomach in the dirt. Muttering his son's name, he tried to crack a smile as he lifted him from the ground and cradled him like an even younger child.

The boy cracked open his dreamlike eyes, struggling to get a good hold on his father's loose shirt. "Papa, I'm sorry dat I ran. I'm just real scared of dragons. An' I wanted ta be tha big boy, warnin' everyone 'bout it. I'm sorry," his bottom lip puckered and a single tear dropped down his cheek onto his heaving chest.

While he wanted to express how serious what he had done was, Arinn couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. Instead, he hugged Eli close and shook his head, kept walking fleetly, and said, "Do not worry. We will go home and tell Mama, and then I will go out and tell everyone else around here."

"Okay Papa. But… but d'you think dat I could come with you?" Eli's breathing came a little slower now, nearing its normal rate.

Arinn sighed. He could not let Eli find that he was scared as well. "We will just have to see."

[piosenniel]

CHARACTERS NEEDED LIST

Millwind Family

Parents

• 1. Father - Arinn Elden Millwind - ArwenBaggins
• 2. Mother – PLAYER NEEDED

Children

• 1. Daughter/Oldest Child - no older than 14 year – PLAYER NEEDED
• 2. Son/Older Twin – Eli Ross Millwind (6y/o) - ArwenBaggins
• 3. Son/Younger Twin – 6y/o) – PLAYER NEEDED

~*~

Whitfield Family

Parent

• 1. Father (Arinn's brother-in-law) - PLAYER NEEDED
• 2. Mother -PLAYER NEEDED

NOTE: The Whitfield children will be Carry-along characters. No one will play them in particular; they can be used by anyone who needs them.

They are two children: Daisy and Elian, ages 8 and 14.

The Whitfields live next door to the Millwinds.

~*~

Additional Child

• There is another child who has some 'difficulty' reaching home. Regin Hardhammer

~*~

Dragon

• Smaug – Kransha