The stream runs cold and clear beneath a pale northern sky, but the bank ahead is ruined. A cow lies butchered in the reeds, and dark mud is trampled flat by hobnailed boots.
Boffo Hardbottle kneels near the prints. Orc tracks, plain as day, and fresh enough to still hold water in their cleats.
Boffo Hardbottle
Fresh tracks. Heading north.
A scrap of hide flutters on a thorn, and the wind carries the stink of iron from the carcass. Beyond the stream, the land climbs toward the desolate North Moors.
The Wounded Drover
Bounder! Over here, if you please, before the light fails completely.
A lean hobbit woman staggers from behind a tangle of alder roots, one hand pressed to a torn sleeve. Fear and urgency sharpen her face.
The Wounded Drover
I saw them, three or more, dragging off toward the moors. If you run to Greenfields, I can point the Shirriff to this place. If you go after them now, you may catch them before they scatter.
The tracks split the mud like a road of doom, one line leading north, the other back toward the Shire and home.
✓ Quest Accepted
Tend to the wound
“"First, let me see that wound."”
FAILURE (Mediocre Healing, rolled -1)
Boffo leans in, trying to part the torn cloth with careful fingers. The drover jerks at the touch, and he pulls back before he can do more than glimpse the bloodied edge beneath her sleeve.
The Wounded Drover
Easy, Bounder. It stings like nettles gone bad.
She braces herself against the alder roots, breathing hard, and turns her arm just enough to hide the worst of it.
The Wounded Drover
I am no nurse’s patient, but I can walk if I must. Just not fast.
Boffo Hardbottle
The cloth is too torn to draw cleanly aside.
The Wounded Drover
If you mean to help, then tell me plain. Do you fetch the Shirriff, or do you stay with me a moment longer?
Her gaze flicks once toward the northbound tracks, then back to Boffo, waiting while the stream hurries cold between the reeds.
“"There is nothing for you to do here, and you are in danger. If you need help, I will take you to Greenfields. If not, just go there and tell the Shirriff what happened. I want to find out what these orcs are up to."”
SUCCESS (Fair Diplomacy, rolled +1)
Boffo Hardbottle
There is nothing for you to do here. You are in danger. If you need help, I will take you to Greenfields. If not, go there and tell the Shirriff what happened. I want to find out what these orcs are up to.
The Wounded Drover
You speak plain, Bounder. Better than most.
The Wounded Drover
Greenfields it is, if my legs hold. If they do not, I will take your arm and make it worth your while.
She gives a tight, grateful nod and lets her injured arm relax at last. Boffo gets a better look, enough to bind it before the blood runs much farther.
The cloth comes free with a soft, wet tug. It is already stained through, and Boffo spends his spare strip of linen wrapping it fast against her sleeve.
The Wounded Drover
Hush, that bites. Still, I will not faint on you.
When he cinches the knot, the drover steadies herself and looks north once more, jaw set. The cost is plain, his hands red to the knuckles, and the orc trail remains stamped hard in the mud.
The Wounded Drover
Go on, then. I will start for Greenfields. When you learn what they meant, come back alive and tell me.
Quest Complete
Tend to the wound
Skill Upgrade: Diplomacy Fair→Good