The One Ring, Strider Mode: Episode 3

Now we begin playing in earnest. Going forward, out of character writing will be in italics.

We open at the Grey Havens, the place where elves depart Middle-Earth. What is life like for Ûrdis at the Grey Havens? Strider Mode offers several tables to answer this kind of question. I will roll on the Lore Table for an Aspect and a Focus. Aspect: Faded. Focus: Weapon

The sea calls to Ûrdis, literally and spiritually. The cry of gulls, the splash of waves against the eponymous stone of the Grey Havens. But above that, or perhaps below it, is the beckoning to go West, into Aman to join her kin.
Once, the joy Ûrdis took in Middle-Earth seemed never-ending; not even an immortal life offered enough time to see everything. Then the wonder began to fade, bit by bit. Once, it could be measured in decades, but now each day seems duller than the last.
As is her custom, she sits on the dock overlooking the sea, and polishes the blade of Namárië. She needn’t bother; it is of dwarfish-make, and mountains would crumble before it tarnished. Its maker, the smith Demben, would have scolded her for fretting so over his work. Demben, of course, is long dead, perished even before Khazad-Dûm fell.
“Another ship left this morning,” says a voice behind Ûrdis. It is Círdan the Shipwright, his voice strong and steady despite his great age. The afternoon sun glints off the silver of his beard. “And once again, you did not board it.”

They have done this dance many times. “Nor did you, Old One.” Ûrdis has known the Master of the Grey Havens for centuries, but has only lately been his guest.
Círdan smiles indulgently. “My time has not yet come. When I disembark, it will be on the last ship to leave these shores.”
Ûrdis stands and sheathes Namárië on her back. “Then perhaps I will be on that ship with you. You wont be rid of me so easily.”
Círdan places one hand on Ûrdis’s shoulder. His hands are strong and calloused; he is not one to let his age or status keep him from manual labor. “I doubt it, old friend. No sorrow has held your wanderlust in check for long.”
With a laugh that does not reach her eyes, Ûrdis agrees. Truth be told, the Grey Havens are as dull as they are beautiful. And the sight of each ship departing Middle-Earth reminds her of the first one she saw, the one that took her away.
Círdan’s expression grows serious. “I actually require your aid today, Ûrdis. On a matter of grave import.”

Cirdan serves as Ûrdis's patron, a questgiver. What is the quest? Rolling on the Patron Quests table. “An artifact of great importance to the Elves is carried by a servant of the Enemy. Who is this creature, and why do they covet the artifact?”Who indeed? I roll on the Lore Table for an Action, Aspect, and Focus. Action: Trap. Aspect: Desolate. Focus: Nature. The aspect and focus remind me of how Trolls are said to have been created as “mockeries” of Ents. Made of stone rather than wood, despoilers of nature rather than protectors. Most trolls in Middle-Earth are not very intelligent, but there are always exceptions, particularly the Olog-hai. I find a name I like for a general of the Enemy: Rakdo of Morgul. As for the action, I’ll keep it in mind as we go. As for what the artifact is, I’m not sure, but I can think of a good way to get Ûrdis’s attention.

Ûrdis looks into Círdan’s piercing eyes; in all the time she has sojourned in his home, he has not asked anything of her. “What is it?”
Somehow, Círdan manages to look uncomfortable, a sight Ûrdis has never witnessed before. “As you know, when Eregion fell, the wealth of Ost-in-Edhil fell into the Enemy’s hands.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Shipwright. I was there.”
“Indeed. It is thought that the great treasury of Ost-in-Edhil was destroyed by Celebrimbor before the Enemy could claim the treasures within.”
Ûrdis’s brow furrows as she begins to see what Círdan is getting at. “However?”
“However, word has reached our ears that at least one item survived the city’s destruction, and is now in the hand of a creature known as Rakdo of Morgul. We believe this artifact to be Dagorcalma.”
Ûrdis’s blood runs cold at the mention of that name. “Dagorcalma is a legend. A story. It was never made!”
“Ûrdis, you said yourself that you had not returned to Ost-in-Edhil for years before it fell.” Círdan’s voice is calm, irritatingly so. “Could the story not have been made true in that time?”
“Yes, it could have. But he didn’t… he wouldn’t!” She glances down at the ring upon her finger, her father’s final gift to her. “I will not believe it.”
Círdan lifts a single hand. “Perhaps you are right, and it is no more than a tall-tale. But the important thing is that the servants of the Enemy believe they have it. Emboldened so, who knows what they might do?”
She wants to argue, but in her heart she knows that the Shipwright is correct. “Very well. Whatever this Rakdo holds, I will see to it that it is returned to us.”

Let’s narrow down just how far away Ûrdis needs to go. The Telling Table allows us to divine the answers to yes or no questions. First question: is it West of the Misty Mountains? Answer is yes. Next question: is it to the South of the Shire? Yes. That narrows it down, now let’s check the Lore Table for inspiration. Aspect: Broken. Focus: Council.

“Thank you, old friend. Our scouts last saw them at the ruins of Tharbad.” Just a short journey to where Ost-in-Edhil once stood.
“You know, old friend,” Ûrdis says as she begins to walk towards her quarters to begin preparations, “sometimes I think you enjoy tormenting me.”

Ûrdis receives one Adventure Point for undertaking this quest. Looking at the map of Eriador, the best path for Ûrdis to take to reach Tharbad is East into the Shire, then Southeast to Sarn Ford. After crossing the Baranduin, she can follow the Greenway into Tharbad. This should be a journey of about 24 days. I imagine the trip between the Grey Havens and Michel Delving is not particularly dangerous, so I’ll make a simple Travel roll. I get a 9 on the Feat Die, and a 5 and a 6 on the Success Dice, for a total of 20: a Great Success! I’ll spend that special success to make haste.

Ûrdis travels swiftly through Emyn Beriad, utilizing old trails and shortcuts that she remembers like the back of her hand. The white spike of Elostirion rises to the South, but she puts it from her mind. The last thing she needs is to gaze into Valinor when she has a mission.
The weather continues to cooperate as she reaches the Far Downs, the Western border of the land hobbits call The Shire. A journey that might have taken 5 days takes less than 3. Ûrdis thanks the stars, but knows her luck will not hold forever.
Over the next hill lays the town of Michel Delving, the largest halfling settlement in the Shire. She has not had much traffic with the little folk, but going out her way to avoid the town will cost her a day at least of travel, when she can simply enter the town and be on the road.

What sort of reception does Ûrdis receive in Michel Delving? I’ll roll for an Aspect. I get Isolated.

Michel Delving is small in every way; the lintels of the doors hardly reach Ûrdis’s shoulders. Ûrdis did not know what to expect, as she no doubt seems as strange to the halflings as they do to her. What she certainly had not expected was chilly indifference. Each of these prosperous hobbits looked down their noses at her, despite the height difference. To be fair, she is a heavily-armed stranger come in from out of the hills in dusty traveling clothes. She purchases some provisions and begins to swiftly make her way onto the Great East Road.
Ûrdis barely makes it clear of town before she hears a voice behind her. “Oy! Elf!” She turns about and sees nothing, before remembering to direct her gaze lower. Glaring up at her is a hobbit with dark brown skin and long black hair, her eyes and lips painted with dark makeup.

Ûrdis suppresses a laugh at the hobbit’s self-serious expression. “Can I help you, young mistress?”
“Which way are you headed? East or South?”
Normally Ûrdis would not countenance such rudeness from anybody, but her boldness catches her quite off guard. “Southeast, actually. I make for the Sarn Ford, and from there into Arnor.”
The hobbit pauses to consider this. “Them dwarves said they were headed for Arnor too…”
“Dwarves?”
“That settles it. You’ll take me with you!”
It takes a lot to shock Ûrdis, but the brashness of this hobbit has her sputtering. “Excuse me? I do not know you, mistress halfling. And even if I did, this is no journey for one such as you.”
The hobbit reaches out one little hand. “First part is easily solved. I’m Corabel Clayfoot, but my friends call me Bella.”
Ûrdis took the hand in hers. “Ûrdis. Again, my road is not one for a halfling. Go home, Mistress Clayfoot.” With that, she begins walking down the road, but is immediately distracted by the sound of bare feet on cobblestone.
“Listen,” says Corabel, panting a bit at the effort of catching up with Ûrdis’s long strides, “I’ve got important business down that way too. Like it or not, we’re following the same road. Let’s at least travel together as far as the Brandywine River, and see how you feel then.”
Ûrdis sighs, and considers her options. She could easily outrun the hobbit, but she’d rather not have a straggler dogging her steps. And Corabel no doubt knows the lay of the land better than Ûrdis does, though this leg of the journey is not one she is much worried about.
“Very well. As far as the river, and then we part ways. And do not slow me down.”
Corabel sniffs and begins walking ahead of Ûrdis. “I was about the same thing to you, Ûrdis.”

With new companion in tow, let’s roll do a real Journey roll. This next phase is from Michel Delving to Sarn Ford, a journey of about a week. First is a Travel roll. The result is a 14: exactly a success. The pair travel for 3 hexes before an event happens. Next I roll for a Journey event. Since this is a Free Land, I roll it Favored. I get the Gandalf rune: a Joyful Sight. I gain no Fatigue point, and roll a d6 to see what the nature of the event is. I get Abundant foraging, which requires a Hunting roll. Unfortunately I do not succeed the Hunting roll, and get no Hope points.

The walk from Michel Delving onto the road is pleasant, and the two make good time. Clorabel spends the journey chattering about her life, in particular her good friend Hildibrand. Apparently they took a journey Westward together, where “Brandy” fell in with a particularly friendly group of dwarves who inducted him into their company. Clorabel had returned to Michel Delving to get supplies and help to go find him, and had happened to run into Ûrdis instead.
At one point Clorabel stopped their progress to note a field of particularly delicious-looking crops. Despite Ûrdis’s protestations, Clorabel led them in to gather some supplies, explaining that she “used to take from Farmer Longhole’s fields all the time.” Before they could take much, they heard the baying of dogs, and fled back onto the road, both laughing.

Time for another Travel roll. Only a 6; an abject failure, so the next event happens 2 hexes away. Once again rolling the Journey Events with Favor. 9: a Short Cut. I gain 1 fatigue point, and roll to see what kind of check to make to shorten the journey. 3: Helpful Tracks, with an Awareness roll to follow them. Another failure.

At one point, Ûrdis finds deer tracks, to what she believes will be a shortcut across the hills of the Shire. As it turns out, the tracks immediately return to the Road, leaving them no further than they began.

Travel roll time. Another failure, which gets us an event just before the Ford. The result is once again a Short Cut. This time the event is a Secluded Path, which requires an Explore roll. This time the roll is a success. I still gain 1 fatigue, but lower the length of the journey by 1.

As they stop to make camp, Bella notices Ûrdis examining her maps. “Just how old is this thing anyway?”
Ûrdis grins. “Older than you, I expect. Why?”
Bella points to their approximate location. “It mentions a path I’ve never heard of. But it says it cuts through the woods and gets us right to the Ford.”
“Hm. Perhaps it has been grown over since this map was penned. How about we look for it, and see if it is still usable?”
After a bit of rooting around, they do in fact find the road, an old hunter’s path that has since been mostly reclaimed by the forest, but is still usable with little issue. Before long they can hear the sound of water on stone, the swiftly moving Baranduin growing shallow at this point.