028 - The last word of a warg.

November 15 FA 15 (1:30PM)

In the previous encounter, the company ran into a skirmish between three wargs and a winter drake hatchling. The company decided to evacuate the farm stead before taking on the pursuits of the dark creatures. Unfortunately, this delay in tracking the beasts meant that the snow slowly started to accumulate along the path. Luckily, the wargs left deep grooves into the snow, and the drake left in his wake countless splintered trees. The going was difficult for the hobbits and the dwarf, but simple for Nimrodel as elves are unencumbered by frost and snow. By the time that they reached a clearing and found the bruised carcass of one of the wargs, the three small folks were starting to bleed Fatigue points due to the strain of walking, and exposure to the cold. 

It was becoming more difficult to follow the trail. Nimrodel, noticing a lightening in the intensity of the storm, decided to climb the tallest tree to look around. Although an elf, he had never entertained the idea of climbing into trees. The attempt was successful, and soon he reached a vantage point with a view on the surrounding country. In and out of snow drifts, his elf eyesight could discern the signs of a battle. He climbed down to the smallfolks and explained that a skirmish was still ongoing some thousand paces to the North. 

It took more than half an hour for the small folks to progress this far. By then, the storm had died down.  A heavy snow was still falling. The wind still blew and howled into the bare trees above. The ground was covered with broken branches and twigs. The bodies of two wargs were lying in the snow. One of which, still breathing laboriously. 

The company walked to the surviving warg. Halin, taking stock of the beast, noticed that it was reeling from blunt trauma and dying. Blood was dripping from its mouth, and its breathing was difficult. He asked Nimrodel whether he could talk to the creature. Nimrodel, capable to speak in orc tongue to a limited extent, asked first the beast who it was. The beast, without opening its eyes, answered "Farathu". Nimrodel [rolling a check against Hidden Lore], told its companion that Farathu was more likely the name a drake than a warg. Nimrodel asked the beast if it was hunted. The beast took a long time to respond, and simply said that this territory belonged to Farathu. The warg was almost unconscious, bleeding from its side. Irina inspected the beast and successfully treated the shock [a difficult First-aid because the warg isn't anthropomorphic]. The warg held on to consciousness [these HT checks were lucky]. Nimrodel finally asked  the beast where it came from. In a last gasp, the warg replied the orc name for the Blue Mountains. It expired as its lungs filled with fluid. 

The smallfolks were slowly wearing down by the difficult hike in the snow, and the persistent cold. Irina lead the walk and certainly helped, but an extended walk to track a very fast foes would be dangerous and probably not successful. The company decided to turn around and recuperate, maybe simply to return tomorrow on horseback to follow the trail of damaged trees. 

Back in Michel Delving

It was just about time when the Slapfoot came in sight as the smallfolks were slowly giving in to exhaustion and exposure. They all agreed to NOT mentions the presence of the drake in the Shire. At least not at this time. When pressed by an excited crowd of hobbits for details. They specified that three wargs had died and, as far as they knew, all of the wargs were accounted for. The hobbits present took the news in stride and celebrated. The company members were pressed for more details. It became clear that there would be a chance that their individual stories wouldn't be adding up in the end. So Irina proposed to tell the tale of this dreadful day with a song [Song check passed]. She improvized a fine tall tale, where the wargs were valiantly slayed by the company members. It was a lie, but a melodic one. Most importantly, it was a lie to protect the Shire from a commotion that could have caused much damage. Irina's singing, and Finbert's carousing deflected the Shirefolks from the sinister truth.