It was a normal day like any other in the Shire. The sun was shining, the trees swayed in the wind, and the ever rolling green continued in peace. The familiar and often dreaded pointed grey hat of a certain wizard seen in Hobbiton was often the sign of great and unwanted adventures in the region. Where nothing of the sort was approved and no self-respecting hobbit would be see consulting with such odd fellows of dubious character.
Caradoc Brandybuck attended to his everyday chores like any other day. Maintaining his little hobbit hole in hobbiton is studious precision if only cause nothing else would fill the time of day. Plates were properly cleaned and stacked. The larder was regularly well maintained and even Caradoc's little collection of nicknacks was dusted from time to time during days like this. It wasn't that Caradoc didn't have friends of course, but more of Caradoc had always been somewhat free spirited and aloof with his dealings of other people, even fellow hobbits. Although he did have fine relations with his extended family, like with Leofric next door. A fine lad but one one Caradoc wanted to spend extended time with. Then of course one day Caradoc Brandybuck heard an unexpected knock at his door.
"Hello?" Caradoc asked while gently opening his door with the slightest gap to peer at his visitor.
"Hello to you." A aged voiced replied with some spirit.
Caradoc stared ahead at the waistline of a grey robed man. He tilted his head up towards the man's face with some caution like one would look at the sun in mid day.
"Can... can I help you?" Caradoc asked with some trepidation.
"Well, that remains to be seen." Replied the man with a wry smile. Almost betraying an all too familiar routine.
Caradoc felt oh so slightly disturbed by the man's erratic behavior. No doubt the old man leaned on such of large walking stick due to his frazzled nerves and empty mind.
"How can I um... help you mister?"
"Mister? I have not walked countless years in Middle Earth to be called Mister young master Bradybuck!"
"Oh, d...de...dear... What should I address you as then sir?"
"Hmm" the old man calmed himself, "Gandalf will do just fine thank you."
Caradoc's ears peaked with recognition at the name and the terrible danger he was now in.
"Oh... oh no... not the Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey?"
"Yes, for Gandalf is... well... me."
"The same Gandalf who abducted Bilbo Baggins just six years ago?"
"Oh..." Gandalf's expression turned to curious concern as his face puckered, "I wouldn't call it an abduction... I just helped him out of the door a little."
"NO SIR!" Caradoc's face suddenly turned a beet red. "I DO NOT WANT IT!"
"Want what young master Brandybuck?"
"I DON'T KNOW AND I DO NOT CARE TO KNOW! BUT I DO NOT WANT ANY OF IT! NOW GOOD DAY SIR!"
Caradoc immediately retreated into his hobbit hole with a great slam of his oak door.
Gandalf peered through the rounded windows of Caradoc's home only to be met with the closing of blinds.
"Go bother my cousin Leofric next door if you must! Boy could use the fresh air, just leave me alone!" Caradoc's voice muffled voice said.
Gandalf retreated from the home of Caradoc with an audible "hmph" and moved onto to next hobbit home but a few short strides down the path next door.
A meticulously laid out herb garden was laid out in front of this home and an oak door of a similar manner laid before him.
Gandalf carefully angle his staff and knocked it against the wood door.
"C... C... Coming! Is that you cousin Caradoc?" Leofric's voice was of a light tone that reflected his rather overly polite demeanor.
The door opened to reveal a rather young hobbit with soft brown curls and large blue eyes that betrayed an intrinsic natural curiosity found in all hobbits.
"Oh... Oh my..." Leofric sheepishly said as his eyes glanced away almost in embarrassment.
"You must be Leofric Brandybuck. Your cousin next door has told me much about you. Very, very much indeed..." Gandalf tapped his staff against the cobblestone steps that led up to Leofric's door.
"Oh that's awfully nice of cousin Caradoc to mention me. He didn't have to do that, I know how much he values his time."
"Ahem," Gandalf raised his hand stopping Leofric before he go could on any further, "I am here to see you young master Brandybuck."
"M..Me...?"
"Yes, you. I am looking for something of a traveling companion and your cousin has given me a good word that you may be just who I am looking for to share in an adventure?"
Gandalf titled his pale blue hat at Leofric's direction in a knowing manner.
"Oh... an adventure?" Leofric's eyes lit up as soon as the words passed Gandalf's lips.
Gandalf smiled in recognition, "to trade a walking stick instead for a sword and to see what lies beyond the hills of the shire?"
"Oh ye..." Leofric paused, "oh I couldn't mister, I have so many responsibilities here. I mean no one is around to look after the garden and cousin Caradoc too. There's just so much to do, I really would love to." Leofric's mind seem to be drifting away as he mumbled a list of half excuses.
"Hmmph," Gandalf stroked his beard. "I have decided. It will be good for you and doubly amusing for Radagast."
"Who is that sir?"
"Do not worry yourself. Now pack your things, I will ensure that your garden and cousin are well taken care of along with any other concerns."
"R... really?" Leofric beemed a smile.
"Yes, yes. Now hurry up and pack. We are wasting precious daylight for an experience you won't soon forget master hobbit."
"Well... well if everything is taken care of. Then I suppose a quick little adventure wouldn't hurt at all! What do I call you sir?"
"You may call me Gandalf young master hobbit. Gandalf the Grey..."
The folk moot of the Woodmen was set to begin that spring, they only waited for key members to arrive. Radagast the Brown had made it clear he was expecting Gandalf the Grey to visit and observe the events with a keen eye. What he was not expecting was for Gandalf to bring a Hobbit from the Shire and to place his extended care to Radagast's and the company that had made its home with Radagast over the previous year.
"I must leave you for a time Leofric, my cousin Radagast will keep an eye out for you." the parting was rather unexpected but not surprising considering the patterned history of the Grey Pilgrim.
The winter had been a surprisingly easy one that previous year, strangers from all over the Mirkwood and beyond seemed to make their home close to the Woodmen that year.
Eobrand had established a small inn where far travelers could gather in the shade of Rhosgobel. Many of the Woodmen did not yet trust these outsiders and few came to visit, but the ones who did found curious company and tales from outside their realms that only men of the far south could provide. Deeper understanding too could be gleamed from their mysterious elven compatriots Algarwen and Peregorn who would deem the inn worthy to visit on occasion during the off season. Although these elves would often be the only ones seen visiting of their people and even though only on some occasion as some great event spirited them away to the woodland realm more often than not.
However for the season's meeting only Ciron, Peregorn, and Eobrand were present to meet Leofric at the Folk moot of the Woodmen.
Ingomer wisest leader of the most prominent Woodmen village hosted the folk moot that year and every visitor he would personally greet, espousing tolerance even for their unexpected far flung guests. An outsider's view of events offers a unique gift of perspective that no invested Woodmen could claim.
"Friends, family, and honored foreign guests," he announced, "we gather here today because the fate of our people is changing. New times befall us all and with it great change to the Mirkwood that concerns everyone gathered here." Ingomer's voice swelled with pride, "yet I feel that the time of the Mirkwood may soon end with the combined efforts of all men, elves, dwarfs, and all free peoples of Middle Earth. The Greenwood will return with our efforts."
Caewin the "generous" had representatives of his eastern settlement talk around the crowd, distributing fresh fruit on golden trays before he entered the center of the circle.
"My fellow kin!" he began, "long have your people dwelled here in the shadow of the Mirkwood. We are recent arrivals to the area known as the East Bight and have come bearing the gifts of our labors there. There is blood shared between us however distant and so we have come asking to be admitted as one of you. To recognize us as fellow woodmen and kin."
"We are not so easily swayed by physical trinkets, Caewin." Ingomer objected.
"I mean no disrespect, only that we wish to share our prosperity with our neighbors so that we may grow stronger together."
"A fool's paltry gift and a fool's price!" a deep scathing voice emerged from the back from a tall dark figure clad in black armor. Surrounding the figure were accompanying armed men of the Tyrant's Hill.
"Who are you, to be so bold as to treat with us?" Ingomer said, undaunted by the figure.
The figure stepped down from his horse and stepped into the circle his imposing presence shadowing Caewin. Flanking the figure were two of the Tyrant's Hill men carrying large sacks.
"I am known as Mogdred. Years ago your son was presumed lost to the shadow of Dol Galdur. Your scouts were both right and wrong." the figure took off his enclosed blacken helmet to reveal a fair face.
Gasps were heard from the crowd as the physical resemblance to Ingomer was undeniable.
"I was tortured in the dungeons of that place for many a year until I took what power I could scavenge and survived. The Tyrant's Hill are my people and in some ways they are your people too..." Mogdred shot a look of contempt towards Caewin.
"Where Caewin would offer you but trinkets of the land for his entrance into the Woodmen tribes. I would offer you something more tangible."
He signaled to his two followers to emptied the sacks into the circle. Countless severed orc heads came tumbling out of them onto the dirt ground.
"This is what I offer! For years my people, my kind have bled for yours fighting in the shadow of Dol Galdur!" Mogdred slammed his fist against his chest.
"For this insult and others, I demand that tribute be made and I swear in return we will protect your villages from far worse."
The crowd nearly erupted into chaos, only the silent raised hand of Ingomer kept them steady.
"We will consider your request." Ingomer's flat tone betrayed none of his thoughts. It had almost seemed like Mogdred's presence was not even a surprise to him.
"You sir, are a coward!" Ciron suddenly yelled from the sidelines as he stepped forward. "A true friend of the Woodman would not make such ungainly demands. Long have my people of Gondor spilled its blood holding back the tainted land of Mordor. Yet even we do not make such demands from our allies as you would."
Mogdred sneered with a dismissive glare, "you would let a foreigner speak on your behalf? You are weaker than I first thought. Begone with such rabble!"
Ciron moved closer towards the circle ready to draw his weapon, until Peregorn grasped his shoulder stopping him, "you are not from the Wilderland, this is not for you to decide. They must reject him on their own terms."
Ciron's expression of rage played across his face as he relented.
Peregorn began to hum a soft Elven tune that seemed to put everyone at ease and tensions simmered down from the escalation.
"We have a saying in the Shire." Leofric suddenly pipped up, "If you have a bad house guest, it's better to make them leave sooner rather than later."
The crowd began to murmur in agreement.
"I see that your villagers now take advice from foreigners and half wits. No wonder the time of the Woodmen grow perilous." Mogdred said as he placed his helmet back on.
"I'm afraid... my son" Ingomer said, "we cannot accept your terms."
"Then we are enemies. A foolish choice father," Mogdred mounted his horse and signaled for his troops to leave "for the Black Tarn has far more enemies than you know..."
When Mogdred left the folk-moot was left with dead silence. Everyone present was unsure if the right decision had been made, but the results were now clear. The Woodmen village of Black Tarn and all associated with the Woodmen would now be considered enemies of the men of the Tyrant's Hill.
Even Radagast the Brown offered no words of succor.
"I fear for the fate of all men here should Mogdred not be crushed now." Ciron mumbled.
"I fear for all the Mirkwood that such evil still lies within the heart of all men." Peregorn replied.
A follow up vote was quickly taken in favor of accepting Caewin's people to the Woodmen and expanding the Woodmen's holdings to the west.
Notes for the year:
Mogdred was made an enemy of the Woodmen
Caewin and Amaleoda's proposals for the integration of the East Bight and expansion of the Black Tarn's lake settlement are accepted.
Algarwen returned to the northern Woodland realm of the Mirkwood Forest to handle personal family business, whilst planning on returning the following season.