Fires Bright Dark Souls Take Flight!
Gandalf had been gone from Bree almost a day now. Like many travelers, the old conjurer had taken advantage of the ruins, which once was a grand Inn. Only a low wall and the chimney had survived, but it was enough to shelter a man or dwarf making their way to or from Breeland. The wizard watched the flames as they danced about before him. He was puffing on the pipe at his lips, enjoying the Old Toby within it when he sensed them approaching. Not dark creatures with the taint of Shadow then. No Gandalf would have detected that long ere now. Yet, they must be up to no good none the less. What decent folk would be out at this hour and not at a camp of their own making? Why would they approach without shouting greeting... or ask to share the fire while stalking like footpads in the night?
Gandalf laid aside his pipe and gathered his staff. His keen eyes darted side to side as those from without made to surround his camp and the old inn that concealed it. A low soft call of a bird made Gandalf sigh then chuckle. What bird would sing at this hour save an owl? Fools! Once they were within earshot and the wizard could be seen, Gandalf waved a beringed finger over the fire, causing the flames to rise and contort as a living thing. Sparks too advanced in the night sky and to fall like rain about the wizard's camp. The brightness of the fire, no doubt, temporarily blinded those who thought to catch him unawares.
Gandalf slow!ly rose but continued to grow even taller in stature as he did so. He was towering above the high flames before him. With a hushed word, the crystal in his staff lit, causing a bright light to mix with the fire's own. Gandalf cleared his throat and spoke with a booming voice that echoed off the ruins about him.
"Who Would Disturb The Rest Of GANDALF THE GRAY!" Shouted the wizard and drawing Glamdring as he did so! "FLY You FOOLS... while you may! A Wizard's Rest Is His OWN! Remember that and Me Well! BE OFF!"
Footfalls no longer silent as a half score men ran off into the darkness. Even their leader, a man with a great bow, dropped an arrow from nerveless fingers and backed away with a curse. Once Gandalf felt their presence no more, the fire and his own stature became normal once again. The old wizard sheathed his sword and laid his staff aside. The bright light within the crystal faded and flickered out. Gandalf sat, reaching for his pipe and chuckled as he did so.
"Hmm... you'd best change your trousers as well least I smell you before I see you." the chuckle became a soft laugh turned loud. The next morning Gandalf made two runes within the soot that covered the chimney. He knew Anunir would know the one and could only hope someone would garner the meaning of the other. The Old Conjuror was then off. Rivendell was still some distance off, and he hoped to make by nightfall or early morning at the latest...
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:16, Thu 11 June 2020.