The One Ring, Strider Mode: Episode 6

Ûrdis and Bella will take another Prolonged Rest that night, letting Ûrdis drop another point of Fatigue. I also realize that I have not been awarding Ûrdis Skill points other than Adventure points for Milestones. I’ll give her 2 Skill points for completing the journey to Tharbad, and another for facing the possessed bandits on the Greenway, giving her a total of 4.

That night at the Bridge Inn, Bella is an incandescent ball of fury. “That bloated, self-satisfied, bearded old toad! Keeping Brandy locked up in a musty old library, and for what? Just to stroke his ego, I’ll wager. Why if my mum heard of this she’d whip him into next Tuesday!”
Ûrdis is not much happier. “He is a small Man, and small Men always push others lower to feel strong. But he is smart enough to know when he has something other people want.”
Bella jumps up onto the bed, getting right into Ûrdis’s face. “He thinks he can steal Brandy? Well then, let’s steal him right back! Grab him from that library and get out.”
Ûrdis had considered his course of action herself. “We could try, but he will have your friend watched now. And this is the only safe city for leagues in any direction; earning its master’s disfavor would be… problematic.”
Bella pouts and sits back. “So what’s the alternative? Hunting down this ‘Ghost Bird’ through a massive bog?”
“Actually, it’s a marsh.”
“I will slap you, elf-magic be damned.”

How much does Ûrdis know about the Swanfleet? It’s close to home, but she hasn’t been back here in a long time. I make a Lore roll and get a Gandalf rune on the Feat die. Thanks to Skill of the Eldar, that makes it an automatic magical success. How does Ûrdis’s “elf-magic” come into play here?

Ûrdis casts her mind back an entire Age, when the river Glanduin flowed past the shining city of Ost-in-Edhil, before spreading out into the vast marshes that she knew then as Nîn-in-Eilph. It is no longer simply a memory; she is there, in spirit. The scent of the very air is different, as if less spoiled by the ravages of time. The water and grasses spread around her in every direction, the sky a vast azure bowl under which she stands.

What helpful information should Ûrdis glean from this vision? I’ll roll on the Lore table, Favoured. Aspect: Wild. Focus: Refuge. I look through Ruins of the Lost Realm, and find an interesting Landmark.

Ûrdis wheels about, and sees a beautiful elven woman, walking barefoot across the marshes. At her feet slithers a serpent. Ûrdis goes to warn the woman, but no sound comes to her lips. She can only watch as the serpent sinks its fangs into the maiden’s ankle, and she falls to the ground, her face a rictus of agony—

Ûrdis awakens at Bella’s insistent hands shaking her shoulders. “Ûrdis? Ûrdis! Where’d you go just now?”
Ûrdis blinks her eyes, her body sore as if her muscles had been tight all day. “Did I say anything?”
Bella leans back and sighs in exasperation, or relief. “You just kept saying something. A name, I think. Nethig.”
Nethig. Ûrdis remembers her. A student of Celebrimbor, a colleague of her own parents. A tragedy.
“I knew her once, long ago. She loved the Swanfleet, and would wander it on her own. Then, one day, she received a poisoned wound, that would never heal. Some say the Enemy himself gave it to her. Rather than sail to the Undying Lands, or allow her body to perish, Nethig crafted herself a ring that would save her from the ravages of time, until a cure could be found. She was buried, sleeping eternally, in the land she so loved. Mayhap she waits there still.”
Bella blinks a bit, her eyes watery. “That’s sad… but what does she have to do with any of this? If she’s still alive, could she help us find this Ghost Bird? Or rescue Brandy?”
Ûrdis closes her eyes in thought. This vision of Nethig did not come to her for no reason. “I do not know. But I believe that the answers we seek lie within her tomb, if it still exists. That will be our destination.”

After purchasing more food and clothing suitable for traveling the marshland, Ûrdis and Bella take the first ferry across the Greyflood river, landing in the southern half of the city. This half of Tharbad is even more poorly maintained than the Northern side. The only intact building of note is a huge one of stone, capped by two large domes; the Library. Ûrdis places a hand on Bella’s shoulder to steady her as they walk past it and towards the tollhouse.
Gwilleth is there waiting for them, smoking a pipe thoughtfully. “Captain Gurnow thought it prudent I share our observations of the Ghost Bird with you,” she says as they approach, her eyes darting to the other guards within earshot. The Ranger leads them out onto the causeway beyond the city, and leans in close.
“We know precious little about it, to be honest. Not even I have seen it myself, but it is no wraith or wight. It leaves tracks, in the pattern of a Man’s. That makes it no less deadly though. Seek out Swantown, on the Western edge of the marshes; beware, for the folk there do not trust in outsiders.”
Ûrdis clasps Gwilleth’s hand in thanks, before turning off the road and walking Westward into the fog.

The approximate location of Swantown is only three hexes away, but it is through a Perilous area. According to the Journey rules, before moving at all we must face a number of Events equal to the Peril rating, which is in this case 1. The Swanfleet is a Dark Land, so I’ll be rolling Ill-favored on the Events table. I get a 4; a Mishap, specifically Wandering Enemies. I must make an Awareness roll to sense their coming, or gain an additional Fatigue point and add a day to the Journey. Luckily I pass the check, so only gain 2 Fatigue.

The walk through the Swanfleet begins almost pleasantly, at least for Ûrdis. The land is crossed by many streams, and the tall grass is a welcome change from the flat gray of Tharbad. Bella has considerably more trouble crossing the channels, and can barely see over the grasses.
After almost a day of walking, Ûrdis holds up a hand for silence, and listens. She hears the sound of many feet, splashing through water, and pulls Bella off into a particularly thick clump of grass. They wait there for a long time, before the party leaves. “Orcs,” Ûrdis explains. “Probably out hunting for a meal.”
“You know, I’ve never seen an orc before,” Bella muses as they begin walking again.
“I pray you never have to.”

Now to make a Travel roll as normal. It barely passes, allowing them to cross the rest of the Swanfleet unimpeded. Now they have to find Swantown. I’ll have Ûrdis make an Explore roll, which is a Favored skill, with one extra dice thanks to her maps. It’s an easy success, with two Tengwars as well. I’ll spend one to do it quickly, and save the other to add extra dice on my next roll.

Now that they know to be on the watch for orcs, Ûrdis is able to guide them quickly through the Swanfleet. They see the huge swans that give the marsh its name, gliding serenely on the water. The weather holds, and they begin to reach the approximate area of Swantown, according to Gwilleth. After consulting her maps, Ûrdis makes a few educated guesses, and before long they spy some buildings in the mist.
Swantown, as it turns out, is little more than a collection of buildings, some built on stilts and others built on crannogs. As they approach, a pair of marsh-folk emerge from the waters on either side of them, holding fishing spears and staring them down with silent determination.

I’ll make a Persuade roll to talk them down, adding 1 dice from the previous success. I’ll spend a Hope to add another. I roll another Gandalf rune, which makes this an automatic and magical success.

Ûrdis meets the eye of one of these hunters. He is a small man, unconcerned about the mud he is caked in. Ûrdis takes him in, and is about to speak when his gaze flicks to Bella. He points at her, his face suddenly cracked by a huge smile. “Stoor! Stoor!”
Bella looks as flabbergasted as Ûrdis feels. “How do you know that word?” she asks.
The hunter puts his arrow away and stomps over to look Bella over with open delight. “The little folk lived here, long ago!” His accent is strange to Ûrdis, almost musical. “They are good luck. Welcome!” Bella shrugs at Ûrdis as they are led through several winding paths to reach the village itself.
“Stoors are a sort of ethnicity among Hobbits,” Bella explains. “Not that anybody really pays attention to that sort of thing anymore. My mother’s grandfather was a Stoor, if I’m not mistaken. He even wore boots! I’d no idea they ever lived around here.”
Swantown itself is an odd assortment of buildings and homes, with no plan or organization to it. The people themselves are an odd mixture; some of them are dressed in the practical garb that their escort wore, while others wore clothing that would not be out of place in Tharbad. The first group are all as delighted to see Bella as the hunters had been, but all look at Ûrdis with a mixture of awe and mistrust.
One particularly tall Man, with a dour face, approaches Ûrdis while the other marsh-folk pepper Bella with questions. “An odd pair, to be sure,” he says. “Hugh Blackbriar. Folk around here call me Master of Swantown.”

Ûrdis shakes his hand and introduces herself. “Thank you for your hospitality, Master Blackbriar.”
“That remains to be seen, depending on your business here. We know you come by way of Tharbad, and none here wish to live under the boot of Gurnow any longer. Do you come at his bidding?”
Ûrdis shrugs her shoulders in exasperation. “Yes and no. He holds a friend of my companion captive, and has demanded the head of a beast called the Ghost Bird by way of ransom.”
As soon as she finishes speaking, the entire town goes silent, every eye on Ûrdis. Master Blackbriar speaks softly to her. “If you’re after the Ghost Bird, you’ll find no help here. It is the protector of these lands. If you hunt it, you’ll find nothing but death.”
Ûrdis had not expected the people to take this so seriously. She assumed that the Ghost Bird was a myth of some kind, but it was clearly more than that to these people.
Bella speaks up then, her voice carrying past the ring of people crowded about her. “We certainly don’t want to kill it, or anything like that! We’re here looking for help. And an elf-lady!”
Ûrdis nods and continues. “Do you know of an old legend, about an elven woman, trapped in eternal slumber? I have reason to believe that it holds the secret to helping her friend, and my own business as well. We mean neither you, nor this Ghost Bird harm.”

I’ll make another Persuade check for this. I’ll add a die for Bella’s affinity for the marsh-folk, and pass!

After a few tense moments, Blackbriar relaxes. “I believe you. If it’s lore you’re after, you’ll find precious little here. For that, you’ll have to visit the House of Patient Women. If anybody knows of this legend, it’ll be them.”
Ûrdis nods. “We cannot thank you enough. Where is this House?”
“There I can’t help you. But I know someone who can.”
He steps aside, and trundling up to them from the water is a large river otter, with a necklace of shells wrapped about its long, sleek body. “The name’s Billigan,” the otter says. “Wotcher.”