Miron and Gilraen will both stay in camp this time. Besides Gilraen is still worried about Elfstan and has asked that Elrohir ride over to check on him.
As the party discusses what they are doing another Hobbit rides in and is created by Merimac Brandybuck. “Hail; cousin Rory, good to see you. You caught up fast.”
Falcon Master also greets Rorimac Brandybuck having helped to train him over 10 years ago.
Mulligan has met him at large parties but he is a generation older and so she barely knows him. He was in the battle of Sanford of course riding with his father Meriadoc.
Rorimac greets the Falcon Master enthusiastically, but with restraint. He looks around with curiosity at the group and plays with the clasp of his cloak self-consciously. “It’s good to see you too, cousin. What’s all this about?”
A Brandybuck, and a son of Meriadoc, no less! I’m surprised (but pleased) to see representatives of such old and venerable families of the Shire honoring our cause here at the Gate.
No spell changes today; I feel confident that I was able to be entirely effective yesterday.
Oh, and from the realm of the truly unavoidable…
Rodents Of Unusual Size? I didn’t think they existed!
Rory studies the young human with interest. “You wear no armor and carry no edged weapons. Are you then one of the Druids I’ve heard tell of, or a mage?”
Deor looks up from his texts. “No edged weapons? This staff has more to do with keeping me from falling over my own feet than any sort of martial purpose. Deor of the Rohirrim, and it’s good to make your acquaintance. Yes, I’m a mage, or at least a mage-in-training. If you’re interested in Druids, you might speak to the small man sitting over there with the dog, the wolf, and the owl.”
Mulligan checks with Gilraen as to how bad Elfstan is and then teases Thoroncir about jumping in front of things again.
Then she wanders across to the new arrival.
Greetings, Rorimac, I’m Mulligan and it’s a pleasure to see another hobbit out here lending a hand. There is going to be a goblin hunt soon, deep underground, would you care to join us.
Ghân looks up and smiles at Rory.
“Welcome - I am one of those Druids you’ve heard of. These are my animal friends (introduces his animals) and I can tell you that we Druids do carry Scimitars (though not swords) and can wear Leather or other light armour. Oh, and I am from the Druadan Forest - we Woses don’t get out much! (Wose joke)”
Rorimac dismounts and stretches his legs (as far as he can, anyway).
To Ghan: “Greetings. It’s a pleasure to meet one of you. And as for not getting out much, a Beorning once told me that a bear’s cave is his castle. Home is home, and no matter how much one travels, it always looks good. Do you think your people will ever spread to other forests, perhaps Greenwood?” He leans down and, with permission, pets the two canines.
To Mulligan: “How are you, young Took? I’d be very interested to join you in a bit of hunting. Underground is one place I’ve yet to be. And I agree, it’s good to have Hobbits around.”
To Bitur: “Well met. I am Rorimac, son of Meriadoc. I’ve met too few Dwarves yet, but all I’ve heard speaks to your people’s courage and skill. I’m sure this trip will be no diffirent.”
“Do we have time before our trip for me to look around and gather any local helpful herbs? I’m unsure of what to expect down below, and I’d like to be prepared.”
There is a goodly selection of healing herbs at the ready for you to take. Easily enough to handle dozens of wounds if you like. Gilraen will help you select the best mix for your skills and experience.
Gilraen is fairly short and very slim with long Raven hair and piercing green eyes. You are not sure if she is Elf or Human and she appears very young. She stands but 5’2" and looks more Noldo than Silven and if Noldo she would be the smallest of the breed so she is probably a human with some Elf ancestry. She is wearing a remarkable Elven Cloak and you hear purring from her shoulder but see no cat.
She says, “Hail Rorimac son of Meriadoc. It is a pleasure to meet you at last. Uncle Merry has told me much about you but we never had the chance to meet. I am Gilraen, daughter of Aragorn and Arwen of Imladris.”
Rory does his best attempt at a courtly bow and reddens slightly(you can take the Hobbit out of the Shire…).
“I am very pleased to meet someone who is both noble by birth as well as by the great deeds of your family. I thank you for your generous help in preparing for the journey ahead.” He can’t help but glance about furtively for the cat he can hear nearby.
He jumps slightly and then laughs. “I’ve known enough cats that I believe she will do it. Of course, then the mice will have to learn as well. If I may ask, how did such a varied group come to travel together?”
The newly-arrived Hobbit is approached by a tall, solid-looking young man who holds out his hand in friendship. “Hail, Rorimac son of Meriadoc, and well met! I am Thoroncir, a knight-errant of Gondor, at your service. There is always room for another gallant Hobbit in Gil-Gandel’s Band, and you are most welcome here. Most of us first met by happenstance at a tavern in Minas Tirith just four months ago, when we went as one to the aid of a family cruelly taken by orcs. We have been drawn ever more closely together through several shared adventures since then. Our common purpose is fighting the forces of evil and darkness wherever we may find them, and finding what glory and fortune we may in so doing. So again I say, welcome!”
You would not call Thoroncir handsome, as such, but he has a friendly, open face, brown eyes and a warm smile, with brownish-black hair and beard, both worn short. He is armored in the distinctive silvery-gray chainmail, breastplate, greaves, gauntlets and helm of the Sea-Knights of Linhir. (These look newly-cleaned, and you soon learn that he was badly wounded the day before but has now been almost entirely healed). The knight-errant also wears a clasp bearing what you know at once must be a leaf of the White Tree of Gondor. At his side hangs a longsword of ancient design, in a worn but apparently still serviceable scabbard; a small white silken cloth is tied around it, near his belt. You are not in camp long before you notice his attentiveness to the beautiful Gilraen, whose favor the cloth is.
“I thank you for your greeting and story, Sir. It makes me pleased to know that we have a trained and obviously battle-tested fighter here.” Rory grins and flexes the hand that Thoroncir clasped. “And I am glad that my hand is unbroken after that grip.”
Gwaelur looks the hobbit up and down then smiles. "Well if ever you wanted a chance to meet dwarves…We had about 50 of them with us in our last raiding party, not counting Bitur and myself.