At the end of Blotmath 1344 our group of hobbits (minus Gorboduc) received a polite summons from Mayor Diggins, who wanted a quick word. “Welcome all. First off: I want to thank’ee for sorting out that Wooperton business. Fine piece of work that. A cockatrice I hear? Nasty critters. Well done all! Now happens there’s another piece of Farthing business to be done and I thought of you lot straight away. The tithing needs to be taken north and distributed properly. I hear you have a friend in those parts who can help with sorting it all out. And the town council will supply all the kit that you need. What do you say?” They willingly agreed to help. Armed with letters of request from the council they hurried around gathering sleds, ponies, extra winter kit and a bag of post before making their way to the tithe barn to load up. Word spread and soon the generous hobbits of Kings Worthy were donating extra toys, gifts and Yuletide hampers to the undertaking.
They set off late next morning to take advantage of a break in winter weather and came to the village of Darrowby long before dusk. They’d taken a leisurely first day to get to know their ponies and how the sleds handled, but it proved to be their overnight stay at the Barley Mow Inn which was most awkward. Their host, Goodman Longfoot, had had plenty of time to ponder Mungo’s insulting review of his ale from their last visit and had not taken it well. This time food, beer and rooms were all inferior. Mungo resolved to update his travel notes to ‘camping would be preferable to staying here’. The chums departed as soon as possible after first breakfast.
They headed out for a very long winter’s day journey and, thanks to outstanding travel skills from Falco, managed to pull into Cawland village just before freezing fog rolled in at twilight. Most places were shuttered tight against the cold, but a lamp was still burning outside The Burnt Bacon tavern. They made themselves and their mission known to innkeeper Luffa Emmett, who promptly ushered them inside where they courteously introduced themselves to the common room occupants. Villagers hurried to stable their ponies and throw tarps over the sleds while the gang warmed up. Once fed and enjoying tankards of interesting, slightly smokey ale they began to relax and enjoy the entertainment. Edgar treated the locals to a splendid rendition of his ‘Wedding Disaster’ song, now with extra verses. Young Biffo Knaggs introduced Edgar to a ‘crowther’ for the first time: a simple lap harp which was bowed. Edgar gave it a try and got a very pleasing tune out of it.
The next morning they made a late start for the short trip to Gogglegard smial but were repeatedly disoriented by lingering icy mists. It took longer than they liked before they found their way into the right dale and pulled up to Gogglegard where Gorboduc was waiting for them with hugs, hot tisanes and big armchairs in front of a roaring fire. Edgar fell instantly asleep. Everyone else was introduced to baby Iris and happily renewed their acquintanceship with the rest of the large Shelltoe family. Over a hearty dinner the hobbits shared much gossip and caught up with family news. Gorboduc shared the contents of a letter from Mayor Diggins which had briefed him on the mission and their likely arrival. Mungo noted that it was down to Gorby to give a favourable report of their efforts. Marroc asked to go up the famous Gogglegard viewing tower but alas it was still unsafe and closed. Instead, he negotiated a pleasing exchange of cold remedies with Mistress Mirabella.
After second breakfast the hobbits returned to Cawland with roughly 2/3 of the tithing to distribute. By daylight they could see that, in addition to a tavern, the village boasted a Meeting Hall {location of the post office, kinship archives and tea rooms (afternoons only)}, a dame school (mornings only), a hardware store, a grocery and a bakery. A trio of goodwives from the influential Cawland Spinners and Knitting Circle had already arrived to open the Meeting Hall and set up trestle tables. So they set up tithing distribution in there. As news travelled around the smials, more and more hobbits turned up to collect their household share. Their efforts hit an early snag when Mungo returned from the hall’s cellar archives seething at the moldy state of their kinship records. Fortunately the most recent tome was still perfectly legible but they made sure to keep the irked hobbit away from front trestles. Falco and Edgar took front of house duties which they accomplished with vast charm and humour. Halfred and Marroc cross-checked weather reports and houshold changes to be sure that everyone received a fair portion. Isenbold and Gorboduc checked local knowledge and recent gossip to ensure that every smial with extra needs got some additional supplies. Mungo made sure it was all properly recorded and everyone was satisfied that a full and fair accounting was made.
All in all, it took a full week to complete and make sure that the furthest smials had enough time to hear of the tithe distribution and send folk to collect. Daytime was spent at Cawland village and nighttimes being spoiled at Gogglegard — which was not that far away with Gorboduc keeping them on the right track. They had plenty of time to explore Cawland village and visit the tumbledown tower (now mostly rubble); a local landmark said to date “from the time of the men from across the sea”. Marroc received a letter from Miss Estella which made him sigh. Mungo confiscated most of the village archives ‘for restoration’ and deciphered one scrap of soggy parchment which revealed the original name of the tavern as The Bird & Beacon. Edgar befriended a bunch of gaffers at the vegetable allotments and was invited inside their scaul (tool store and workshop) for a session of smoky pipes and even smokier liqueur. Isenbold overheard complaints about Molly Binns and Duddel Potts who has scandelously eloped. While he tried to calm the irate familes this was the cue for the rest of the town hobbits to tease Falco. Falco just smiled smugly and went shopping for his wife and daughter. Later, all of them tried their hand at the game of careen in the tavern (a cross between shuffleboard and billiards for four players) but were not much good. At the villagers’ pot-luck supper to say goodbye, Mungo gave an entertaining speech of thanks.
Back at Gogglegard they loaded up the last third of the tithe onto sleds to take across-country to Gurndell. Isenbold carefully surveyed the clouds but declared that it should be safe enough to travel. It was a tricky route, but with Gorboduc to guide them they made no wrong turns and were soon heading down to the next village. They drew to a brief halt when their ears poped and a patch of shimmering air appeared just off the road to their left. Before Marroc or Halfred could call a warning, Mungo had leapt off to investigate and, sure enough, ran knee deep into a sucking bog. They threw a rope and managed to pull him out before he sank too much further, but his trousers were ruined. He wrapped a blanket around his chilled nethers.
They arrived in Gurndell mid-afternoon: a village rather smaller than Cawland. Gurndell had a tavern called The Whistlin Fool, a large hall with ‘The Ancient and Honourable Guild of Peat Cutters’ carved along its eaves, a single general store, and remarkably a smithy. They headed to the smithy first on the unassailable grounds that it would be warm. There they met a brawny hobbit lass by the name of Angelica Swayle who greeted Gorby warmly but was otherwise a bit terse since she had red hot iron to keep an eye on. Marroc fetched some beer from the tavern to warm at the forge while Falco went over to investigate the Guildhall. Here he found Master Jessop overseeing stacking of turves out back and Delwynn Jessop was pleased to offer the hall for tithing distribution. Edgar bought new trousers for Mungo at the general store.
While word of the titheshare went out, visiting hobbits rented rooms and settled into the tavern where Goodman Harkness served smooth, malty stout with oaky undertones. Most importantly they were sniffed at and approved by his champion sheepdog Moss. Moss was famous in the dales for his intelligence and known to overawe a bellwether at 300 paces. This tavern too had a careen table in constant use with its players bemoaning that ol’ Dunstan Hardacre hadn’t turned up to play for some days. It occurred to them that the careen table resembled the sigil in Grandpa Hackenbottom’s old letter. Edgar attempted to provide musical entertainment but went awry when the smoky atmosphere spoiled his voice. A local band called ‘Deaf Shepherd’ took up the tune with an unusual combination of shawn, bodhran and crowther. This produced its very own brand of dissonance which left Edgar wondering if they were trying to make him feel better, or were taking the mick, or really were just that bad. Halfred stayed in the snug where locals persuaded him that a storm giant had been spotted playing 9-pins with boulders up on the moors.
The following days were busy with tithe distribution where the hobbits divided duties between them in the same way as before. Falco and Edgar discovered that Gurndell villagers were less susceptible to charm than expected, and Gorboduc realised that they were also more proud and likely to ask for less than their due. Isenbold made sure the few smials with tweens got plenty. Marroc and Halfred noticed that there were more elderly householders who had no family to network into and drew up a list of those who would need house calls later. Mungo was relieved to find the village records in the Guildhall were well preserved, if a little pungent from the smoke.
The records mentioned a nearby place called Lockmarr Hall: an old smial of the long-vanished Clutterbuck clan. During a break they walked uphill to investigate it and were disappointed to see that only rectangular stone foundations remained in the turf. Mungo speculated on ‘mathom claimant’ rights but everyone agreed that it was too much of a doer-upper. Gorboduc spotted a pile of black and white tesserea amongst rabbit spoor which inspired several of them to fetch shovels and do a little digging. Alas, a combination of hobbit enthusiasm for digging, along with a lack of comprehension, resulted in many shovelfuls of dislodged tesserae being tossed aside before Gorboduc called a halt. Only he had managed to strip off a horizontal layer to reveal a small section of the (now mostly destroyed) triskelion mosaic. Marroc noted a passing similarity to some of the swirls on the Four Farthing Stone, although this mosaic was certainly neater and more stylised.
They completed their difficult but successful share to Gurndell households over the next few days. Only the more remote smials remained which they set out to visit, leaving the isolated Hardacres of Bizzle Burn to last. Approaching over the icy moors they could see a gable end of Bizzle Burn smial, but as they got closer they were dismayed to discover that the rest of the farmhouse had slid down into a large sinkhole — called ‘pots’ in that part of the shire. These opened up whenever waterflow caused an underground cave to collapse. The hobbits stood on the edge of the crater and called down but received no reply. Most of them remembered Gurndell careen players saying that old Dunstan was only a few days overdue, so they reckoned this collapse was fairly recent. They resolved to search for survivors.
Gorboduc and Isenbold climbed carefully down the steep slope fastening a safety rope as they went. Mungo, Marroc and Halfred followed. Edgar and Falco stayed at the top, belaying their friends carefully down to the ruins. Those inside the crater started a grim search and noticed some cottony bundles further in, but fortunately both Marroc and Mungo were alert enough to keep looking around — they were not surprised by the sudden appearance of four Attercop spiders. Aware of their lack of fighting skills, and recalling their previous, mostly disasterous battle with geese, those five exposed hobbits formed a defensive line with their staves ready and hoped that the two archers above would have enough time to shoot. The archers’ opening volley gave mixed results: Falco missed but Edgar landed a solid arrow in the first spider, clearly causing it serious grief.
The attercops closed with their victims. Gorboduc landed an effective blow on the already injured spider, causing to to curl up and die. Mungo flailed uselessly at a second spider which fortunately (for Mungo) aimed a sticky spit at Halfred. Halfred also failed to land a hit with his stave and was engulfed in a cocooning web; most unluckily it covered his face and he also began to suffocate. Marroc wielded his stave inexpertly but by sheer good fortune still managed to impale the third spider through its eye, killing it instantly. Isenbold fought the fourth spider, competently landing a solid hit with his spear which unfortunately skidded off hard carapace. He parried its return attack. More arrows whistled in with Falco’s arrow dealing enough bruising damage to make Isenbold’s spider look very sick. Edgar achieved an extraordinary shot which went between the second spider’s hard plates to kill it. Only one spider still stood, but four more skittered out of the pit.
Marroc, who was by now starting to feel “peeved”, rushed forward to attack the spider menacing Isenbold. In an epic maneuvre he landed a massive blow which failed to pierce the spider’s carapace but crushed it dead anyway. Gorboduc targetted one of the new spiders, landing a bruising blow and dodging its return attack. Mungo again flailed ineffectively at an incoming spider, but at least managed to fend it off before it could bite him. Halfred managed to tear away enough cocoon to breath but not move and remained stuck as another spider skittered towards him. Fortunately Isenbold, freed up by Marroc’s successful charge, moved in to intercept; he landed a very heavy blow to kill it. More arrows came past, Edgar adding enough to kill the bruised spider but Falco made an epic shot to kill the eighth spider outright before it could even close.
With just one spider remaining all the hobbits piled in for a kill. Mungo rushed forward most recklessly and got painfully bitten for his troubles. However, retribution was swift and the spider disintegrated under a flurry of stave blows. Everyone drew breath and paused to scan for more incoming attackers, but none appeared. After a while they cautiously investigated the cocoons already inside this sinkhole. They carefully cut these open and were delighted to rescue not only elderly Gertie and Dunstan Hardacre alive, but also youngsters Molly Binns and Duddel Potts and a very weak Trapper Targ. They took time to carefully guide them out of the crater and onto the now empty delivery sleds. During this a few of them noticed dim golden glints coming from a pit further below. Marroc, Isenbold, Mungo and Gorbaduc eagerly investigated as soon as their rescuees were out of sight above.
They followed a short limestone shelf which sloped gently down to more subsidence that had broken open a crack. Crawling inside with a lantern they discovered a small room entirely panelled in carved amber. The amber varied from dark reds over the floor, grading through oranges and saffrons up the walls, to palest yellow covering its ceiling, all carved at angles to catch and scatter light. Under the wavering illumination of their lantern it looked like they were standing within a blazing fire. At the very centre of this room was a single small tomb of carved amber slabs with filigree gold inlay. The workmanship was everywhere excellent but these angular decorations were extraordinarily restrained and elegant. On one side of the tomb were inlaid some old dwarvish runes:
Isenbold still carried in his backback a primer on runes given to him by Bifog and Bifin, so he settled down to translate with Mungo’s help. Marroc went around the room meticulously tapping and scanning for the proper entrance, as clearly the crack from subsidence wasn’t its original entryway. He found no clue, perhaps unsurprising if the dwarven makers had intended to seal this tomb for good. Maybe it would be more visible from the other side, but that raised the question of where it might be accessed from. Gorboduc had been trying to recall all his local and dwarven lore, but there was no knowledge of any dwarven workings in the Shire at all other than the Great Eastern Road. Nearby, the painstaking translation work revealed the inlay as:
There was a general reaction of “oh my word” when they got to the ‘line of Durin’ section. But who Dethra was, or what was survived, the hobbits had no idea. They decided that they ought to be very careful indeed who they told about this tomb. Mungo was strongly against including Bilbo Baggins and suggested more research. Once Edgar, Falco and Halfred had taken their turn at climbing down and looking around, the most sneaky hobbits expertly covered and concealed the tomb’s entrance.
The group took the rescuees and themselves back to Gogglegard for medical attention and hot meals. The titheshare had gone very well, all things considered, so they hoped that their reputations in North Farthing would continue to improve. Some hobbits decided to stay on at Gogglegard for Yuletide but most opted to return home to their families. With famine in the northern villages averted, a very merry Yule was had by one and all.
