Will soon get some info' up to run a bit of RP for coming to Bree for Theorondil & Orondil.
To RP the backstory, the trip... and get into the game.

It is already dark, for, though Winter is ending, the days are still short.
Theorondil and Orondil have started the evening fire, at their small campsite, in the very North of the Weather Hills.
This is their second day, waiting for Haleth, and the two get ready for spending another night here.
You know not what your fellow Ranger wants with you, but answered her request for meeting here.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:04, Sun 05 Dec 2021.

Orodil stoops and puts an armful of firewood down, then throws a few dry branches onto the small fire and looks as sparks fly into the darkening sky. He starts to prepare the evening meal and hums as he works, old tunes from the lands of Rhudaur. When the food is ready he takes a plate, leans back and looks over at Theorondil. "So what do you think Haleth wants this time?" he asks the other ranger.

As Orodil tosses the dry branches in, you see the sparks illuminate a figure in a grey cloak, walking up to you.
You recognize Haleth, a fellow Dúnadan, famed for her skill with the sword.
She is the one you are expecting.
Though, as Orondil asked Theorondil: what does she want?
For you know her usual haunts are far to the East.
You know she guards secret Rivendell and the valley of the Greyflood from Orcs and Trolls.

Stepping into the firelight, Haleth removes her cloak hood, revealing the hilt of the long-sword she carries on her back.
She shrugs:
"It does not matter what I want, you always cook the same meal."
But you hear she is ever so gently humming your old tune from Rhudaur.

"Just in time, Haleth." Orodil looks down on the plate of potato stew. "Nothing wrong with potatoes, it is a very versatile vegetable," he grins and offers a plate. "Come, you must be hungry."

Haleth kneels down, and takes the plate, nodding her head in thanks-- and shows a faint smile:
"Taters... goes well with a brace of rabbits."

"A rabbit would have been good," Orodil nods in agreement, "but something is scaring the game away. Might be wolves around. Or something else." He glances at Haleth but makes no further comment. After the meal he cleans his plate, stuffs his pipe and watches in contented silence as the weed glows softly in the dim evening light. He puffs on the pipe and hums softly the same tunes as before, content to wait for Haleth to tell them her business in her own time.

A faint buzzing sound is suddenly heard, over the crackling of the fire.

Orodil's hand goes to his weapon-- before realizing it is Theorondil, who has dozed off, overcome by fatigue: he is snoring, happy and warm in front of the fire.

Orodil and Haleth exchange the briefest glance.

"I know not what might be scaring the game away, but, yes, times do seem to be growing darker. To the East, along the Loudwater, river Bruinen, we... there are goblins, but seemingly organized, like scouting-parties. Not just there to pillage."
She leans forward, stirring the fire.
"Anyhow. I came to tell you that if you two had time for this, our brother Mallor is asking for some aid."
Mallor, you think-- a Ranger, one who spends a lot of time with Men, and travelers, mingling. Not so much out in the wild.
Haleht looks at you:
"He is in Bree. I imagine to spend time at the Festival. They have a Fair. To celebrate Spring... if you can go, you will find him there.
Oh, for Men, he goes by the name Tarry-Mack."

Haleth remains silent for a bit, as she eats her dish, and then takes more.
Though she does not say much other than: "Good, good...", it is obvious she likes the food, and is happy to share a meal with you.

After, she pulls out a little leaf-wrapped package from her pack, and, unfolding it, offers it to her two fellow rangers... it is a fresh honeycomb, with nice dark honey, rich and sweet.

"So, do you have time - and the inclination - to travel down to Bree?"

Orodil blinks and looks up from the glow of the pipe, having been lost in thought. He looks at Haleth, takes the package and nods. "Yes, we must do all we can to help each other in these times. There are too few of us as it is. We'll set off at first light." He moves the package in his hands closer to his face and inhales the delicious scent from the honeycomb with a smile. "Thank you Haleth, I haven't had honey in years, I think."

"Then I am happy for you two", she nods to Theorondil, "to have this. It is fresh, and strong flavored, yet delicate... the flowers of Rivendell are well kept.
Thank you for your help. I will head back East at first light, then."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:41, Fri 10 Dec 2021.

In the morning Orodil packs his few possessions, says his goodbyes to Haleth and sets off for Bree and whatever awaits beyond.

After a brief morning breakfast, Haleth bids Orondil and Theorondil "safe travels, brothers!", before the part ways, she heading due-East.

From up North of the Weather Hills, the journey is not that far to Bree.
South-west go Orodil and Theorondil, soon leaving the long northward undulating ridge, and crossing the plains, with the rough grass coming up afresh, a sign the Rangers appreciate: however harsh and bleak the winter, life will be reborn...

A few days, skirting the forest until you reach the North-Greenway, the old road now mainly made of mud and remnants of cobblestones.
Then a few more days due South down the road-- crossing some people, from the scarce farmsteads, who are on their way to the Fair.

Soon you see Chetwood-- and Bree lies just beyond.
Time to enter the town...