[OOC Note: This adventure was for a version of Fenley, Fenley Brittleleaf, created for an RP situation that never came to pass. I am rebooting the character for a new RP opportunity. Thus, the following writing does not apply to the current Fenley Plumwood. It is preserved for historical purposes only. After all, there could be two people with the name Fenley in Bree-land!]
Even Master Greenlake had noticed how Fenley was far more quiet than usual, far less his usual heedless, high-spirited self, cheery with disregard for his work. In fact, though he seemed often distracted, he'd gotten more done than usual. The timbers had arrived for the roof and slowly the planks were beginning to straddle the trusses. But even as he walked along the beams high above the ground, Fenley sometimes seemed distracted, his gaze towards the distant woods to the north, in the hills beyond the wolf hollow. Even now as he stood near the peak, thoughtlessly balanced on narrow joists, his gaze was locked on those distant trees.
In the little room he slept in, in the hayloft of the old barn, next to his locker of clothes and personal effects, there hung a broken length of heavy chain, and at its end, a shattered ankle-cuff, spattered with spots of dried blood. His thoughts lingered on it now, as they had so many times. He'd found it in those woods a week ago, but hadn't had a chance to look for the person who must have desperately broken free of it. A goblin had appeared, and he'd only been able to make a clean escape thanks to Jake's vigilant barking. Since then, his thoughts had kept going back to that moment, and the question of who'd worn that cuff, and what had come of them.
He'd shown the chain to Master Greenlake, who had nothing to say save that it wasn't any of Fenley's business, and that the goblin was all the more reason why he shouldn't go wandering into the woods and hills alone. In fact that's what everyone said. His father, of course. The other tradesmen at the work site. After a few days he'd even found a reason to go into Bree and asked one of the Watch, though he hadn't brought the chain with him. Perhaps it would have been taken more seriously if he had. But the guard only said he had nothing to go on, to start from, and suggested Fenley keep out of those woods. "Anyhow, the poor fellow" -- he didn't actually say "fellow," but Fenley wasn't fond of the word he did say -- "is probably far beyond help by now, so best to put it out of your head."
If only he'd explained how to put it out of your head. Maybe that's the sort of thing that masters of the Watch taught their apprentices, while Fenley was busy learning joinery and miter cuts. He tried, goodness knows he tried, but nothing seemed to do the trick. His work could only occupy his mind so much. The usual merriments and diversions seemed somehow inappropriate, and anyhow, there hadn't been anyone near the work site to be distracted with. Hikes in the woods were his sure standby, but for this, what could possibly remind him more of what he was trying to put out of his head? Even though he went to different hillsides, free of goblins, he kept finding himself imagining another chain in the last remnants of snowfall, or seeing fallen bodies in the shapes of hills, or hearing goblin rustling in every breeze that shook leaves and branches.
He set his hammer back into the iron loop on his belt and put his hands on his hips. He was not the person to do something about this, but something had to be done. There might be someone lost in those woods, starving, hurt maybe, running from his captors, needing help. Was there someone who was the right person to search for him, someone who could defend himself against goblins and find the trails of people in need; and how could Fenley find that someone? Or must he go into those woods himself, quiet as he could, perhaps without Jake -- since the dog was loud and hard to control and would be too noisy when Fenley would need to be as quiet as a mouse at midsummer, and… and...
..and he had to admit, because he didn't want to endanger Jake, and there's no question that going into those woods would be way too dangerous for a simple journeyman carpenter, let alone his playful dog.
But as sure as he was that he couldn't go into those woods, every day that passed made him doubt whether he could not go into them.
((OOC: I have no particular plans for this storyline. If you'd like to be involved, let me know! Perhaps your character was the one in that chain, or someone looking for that person?))
