The One Ring, Strider Mode: Episode 7

Bella takes Billigan’s proffered paw. “Bella Clayfoot, at your service.” She passes a questioning glance at Ûrdis, who can only shrug in confusion. This is new to her too.
Billigan begins pacing back and forth before them. “So, you want to get to Medcaute, eh? It ain’t an easy frog, but ol’ Billigan knows these marshes like his own tail. I’ll get you there, for the right honey.”
Ûrdis recovers enough of herself to respond. “Yes, certainly. And you take payment in…”
“Gold and silver’ll do.” He pats an oilskin purse tied to a rope about his waist, which jingles faintly.”
“Of course.” They haggle briefly, and Ûrdis gets the impression that the otter has taken her for a ride, but they have a destination and a guide.

I’ll have them sleep overnight in the small inn at Swantown, allowing Ûrdis to clear a Fatigue.
I think we don’t have to have an entire Travel sequence for this since we’re staying in the same general geographic region. Instead I’ll bring it down to one Explore roll, with an extra die for Billigan’s guidance. Since it is a Favored skill and I get a lot of dice, I succeed easily.

The unlikely trio leave Swantown early the next morning, with several children from the town following for a while to see Bella off. True to his word, Billigan is intimately familiar with the trails of the marshland, and is able to guide them over relatively dry land.
“Billigan,” Ûrdis says, as she climbs over a fallen tree, “what can you tell us of these Patient Women?”
The otter turns over his shoulder, and bears his sharp teeth in what Ûrdis has come to recognize as a smile. “They’re a canny lot, make no mistake. Can weave all kinds of tricks and illusions, and they don’t suffer a bottle. Medcaute is sacred ground about here, so don’t go selling them porkies.”
Bella leans touches Ûrdis’s wrist to indicate a need for her to lean in close. “I swear, I think I’m only getting every other word here.”
After most of a day, their path leads them to another collection of crannogs, one of which is home to a large dwelling of woven branches. Unlike Swantown, Medcaute is populated entirely by the rough-clad marsh-folk, and the reception is much chillier than before.
“Let me do the talking,” whispers Billigan, but before he can say anything, the oldest-looking woman Ûrdis has ever seen walks towards them through the crowd. Her face is a map of wrinkles, and she is stooped over like a weeping willow.
Despite her advanced age, the woman’s voice easily carries over the crowd of marsh-folk. “Your coming was foreseen, Ûrdis Flamebride. As was yours, Corabel Clayfoot of the Shire.”

It is clear that they are meeting a woman of great wisdom, and Ûrdis kneels to show proper respect. “You honor us, elder one,” she says. She imagines that she hears Bella giggle a bit at the irony of it, but thankfully she says nothing.
“Rise,” says the woman. “I am Mother Wendreth. Be welcome in Medcaute.” Without another word, Wendreth hobbles into the largest dwelling, with the clear expectation that they follow. Billigan sketches a salute to them as they walk, and begins to chat with one of the marsh-folk there he seems friendly with.

The House of Patient Women is indeed filled with women, most of whom are nearly as aged as Wendreth. They sit about a great fire, whose smoke leaves through a hole in the woven roof. Ûrdis and Bella take a seat between two elders, and wait for Wendreth to return to her place.
It takes some time, but she eventually sits back down with a great sigh of relief. After a long period of time, during which Bella is clearly vibrating with impatience, Mother Wendreth speaks. “You seek the Hill of the Sleeper,” she says. It is a statement, not a question.
“We do,” says Ûrdis. “I received a vision of the one who slumbers there. We believe that we may find answers there.”
Mother Wendreth seems to almost taste Ûrdis’s words before replying. “So you say. I see that you are seeking something, old one, and perhaps the Sleeper holds the knowledge you need.” She turns to Bella then. “But you? I do not know how the secrets of the hill may aid one of the little-folk.”
Bella shifts uncomfortably in her seat, looking smaller than usual in the large, dark room. “The master of Tharbad holds my friend captive,” she says. “He says that he’ll only release him if I bring him the head of the Ghost Bird.”
The elders whisper among another at that, some of their voices rising enough to show their shock and dismay. Mother Wendreth calms them with a wave of her hand. “By your tone, I can tell that you have no wish to slay our protector, even if you could. The Ghost Bird does indeed dwell at the Hill of the Sleeper. Should you meet him, what will you do?”
Bella examines her nails, deep in thought. “I—I don’t know,” she admits. “I’m no assassin. But Ûrdis hasn’t steered me wrong yet. If that’s where her road leads, then I think it’s where I need to be as well.”
Mother Wendreth’s face remains unreadable, but she seems satisfied with the answer. “Very well. We will take you to the hill, but only if you drink this first.” She picks up a wooden bowl and passes it to the woman to her left, who then brings it to Ûrdis and Bella. “It will confound your senses, so that you will not know the Hill’s location. Do you agree to these terms?”
Ûrdis glances at Bella, who meets her gaze evenly. She hopes that the hobbit knows how grateful she is for what she said. “I do,” says Ûrdis, before taking a sip of acrid-tasting liquid and passing it to Bella.
The drug works quickly, and soon her vision of the fire and the room begin to swirl, and she finds herself struggling to keep her balance. Two of the younger Patient Women help Ûrdis and Bella to their feet, and guide them out of the room.

What does Ûrdis experience during this journey? I roll on the Lore table. Aspect: Sombre. Focus: Death.

As they march through the marshes, Ûrdis thinks she hears a familiar voice calling her name, echoing through the mists. Not calling her Ûrdis, but Halda, the name her mother gave her long ago.
“Halda,” the voice calls again, closer this time. Ûrdis turns about to find the source, almost forgetting the firm hands guiding her steps.
“Who calls me?”
Ahead of her she sees two figures, slender and still, dressed in regal clothing. She recognizes them; her parents. Her father, Draugnir, his hands calloused and his eyes kind. Her mother, Mereneth, resplendent and stern.
“Mother? Father?”

They reach their hands out to her, beckoning her forward. Behind them she sees other faces, her friends and family she thought lost in the fall of Eregion. Acharil, the friend of her heart. Demben, his smile hiding laughter. Even Celebrimbor, her lord and teacher, his face a mask of regret. She makes to follow them, but the strong hands on her arms and shoulders hold her back.
When it becomes clear that she cannot follow, the assembly turns their heads sadly. “Don’t go! Please! Don’t leave me again!”

I think that deserves a Shadow test. I’d call this a harrowing experience, so I’ll have her roll Valour to resist taking 3 points of Shadow. Luckily I roll a success, with one tengwar, so I reduce the incoming points to 1. This puts her at 2 shadow points in total.
Will the Ghost Bird be there waiting for them? I’ll say it’s Doubtful (that might be anticlimactic) and roll for it. I roll a Gandalf rune, which means “Always yes, with an extreme result or twist.” Fun!

Ûrdis comes to on her back, lying in the grass. It appears to be night-time now. Up above her head are countless stars, their radiance only slightly dimmed by the crescent moon. Her head aches like she’s had too much wine. She feels something warm in her hand, and realizes that it’s Bella’s hand. The hobbit is still unconscious and murmuring to herself; the drug must have been more potent in her small body.
With a groan, Ûrdis pulls herself to her feet and looks around. They are, indeed, on a hill rising above the marshy landscape. Behind them is a stone tower, in old dwarven style. Another, mostly crumbled toward, lies ahead of them.

I’m going to have Ûrdis roll a Battle check for reasons that will become apparent. I get an Eye of Sauron, which counts as a 0, making the check a failure.
The Ghost Bird makes an attack, which is always Favored while in the Hill of the Sleeper. They get an Eye of Sauron, which for an adversary is a Piercing blow, and also gets two Tengwars. Ouch! Ûrdis must roll a Feat Die + the protection value of her armor, which is 4. The injury rating is 18. Ûrdis gets a total of 19, just barely avoiding a life-threatening wound. However, the Ghost Bird will spend a Tengwar to make it a Heavy Blow, and another to Fend Off. The first makes the attack do 2 extra points of Endurance damage, and the second raises their parry rating by 3 for the round. Ûrdis takes 8 points of Endurance damage, which also makes her Weary. Damn!

Ûrdis cannot help but scream as a sharp blade pierces slams against her chest with enough force to make her stagger backwards. Her coat of mail holds, but her breath is still knocked from her lungs. To her side she sees what can only be the Ghost Bird, a massive, white shape in the night, its limbs long and spindly, and a wickedly sharp spear held in a single hand.
Ûrdis spits, and draws Namárië. It appears she may have to take the Ghost Bird’s head after all, if it doesn’t take hers first.