Defend Your Herd: a forest game

For Fangorn is old, old even as the Elves would reckon it.
Afird Splitax
Afird Splitax
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Rowantine - 114 Rowan

Having washed her hands in a shallow flowing creek, after the battle, the tears, the laying of her love ones to rest, Rowantine had made her way to her abode for a refreshing Ent-draught. She still had work to do with the herd, but refreshment was need to get the job done. On her way to her Ent-house ( 'a simple flat stone surrounded by rowan trees') she met another Entwife. They shared their stories of the day. This took the better half of a week to do, Rowantine's story causing both of them distress. Always kind to each other, Rowantine's companion offer her 19 saplings that she had, explaining that she had to many to take care of at this time. Happy to accept was Rowantine with a promise to help likewise if anything should ever happen to her friends herd. Happy too were Oyo and Goa, as they flew and sang around the Entwives heads.
And so it was with a glad heart that she went for her draught, finally. Tomorrow she would plant the saplings in the turned earth where she had removed the fallen and watch and wait as the seasons turned and the trees grew.

Loremaster of the Herd
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I’d make you all winners if I could because I truly enjoyed reading each of your lovely forest/orchard/desert/island descriptions as well as your Tree-herding characters! However, there can only be one Ultimate Middle-earth Tree-Shepherd and that honor goes to...

@drifa as Rowantine (with feathered friends Oyo and Goa) for growing a herd of 132 rowan trees!
:clap: well done, drifa!

Feel free to play out your final scenario or not (or declare war on a fellow Ent?)! All I ask is that you have fun. Do what you want and thanks for playing!

@Lirimaer / Lya - You have done an admirable job of herding your orchard in spite of some challenges along the way. The brambles will likely keep out some dangers in the future though it won’t help against another drought. Your grief is felt so keenly, a gentle and steady rain begins to fall and with it comes new life. 15 new trees sprout and spread their leaves among your orchard. (+15) 97 trees

@drifa / Rowantine - When you return to your herd again after a nice rest, a wind rustles the leaves and brings a Lorien-blessed soil akin to what Samwise Gamgee was gifted by the Lady herself. You are lucky indeed! 8 new trees sprout to life among your herd and they make nice perches for Oyo and Goa. You are a very fine Tree-herder and you should be proud! I hope you spread your wisdom to others for the benefit of all. (+8) 132 trees

@Moriel / Old Man Saguaro - I am sad to say living dangerously has not done you any favors. Your cacti may be fire-resistant, but they are not used to the cold. A cold front moves in, which brings a rare blizzard of torrential snow and ice down on your cacti. Fortunately it extinguishes any last flames but it’s hard for you to see through the blinding white, stay warm and protect your herd. After the worst passes, you find 17 cacti were lost to the cold. (-17) 73 cacti

(OOC: Since you wound up with a cold front, I took the liberty of fixing your fire for you but feel free to react to both scenarios if you want! :smile: )

@Vampire Bob / Thornspawn - You seem to have some luck on your side (you actually rolled a bonus this time - what are the chances? :googly: ). Amidst your planning for world domination, 8 new trees reach out their branches; perhaps they share in your ambition to cover the world in golden locusts.
Treebeard sends you a shipment of his special Ent-draught and it helps you grow twice as many new trees! Word of your plans must have spread. Seems like he’s on board with it but all he may have heard was “trees” and “world domination.” (+8 x 2) 118 trees

But that’s not all that is in store for you (carryover your extra roll)! Things couldn’t stay good forever, could they? No, no. A few pesky orcs pass by and take a few swipes at your trees. 4 are killed leaving you with 114 trees. (-4)

@Zôrzimril / Pinecrown - Perhaps the orcs were in search of a Yuletide tree - who knew they celebrated holidays? You were too slow to save those 13 trees but you are victorious in saving those that remain! A Great Eagle witnessed your battle from lofty heights. He is duly impressed with your might and drops a heap of pine cones to you. Inside those cones, 20 seeds germinate and spring to life. (+20) 130 trees

@Menolly / Needlecrown - After a lot of waving your branches, you manage to shoo the woodpecker off to a tree that was already dead and save the rest of your trees. Good for you! Uh oh...what’s that? An errant dwarf appears. What a dwarf is doing in Eryn Vorn is a mystery, but she happens to be a lumberjack and goes where the trees are...and unfortunately she cuts down 7 of yours. (-7) 98 trees

@Aerlinn / Mekaru, gecko-friend - You and the gecko’s harmonies help heal the land. Soon a storm of dark clouds approach and empty themselves upon your island. Too bad it didn’t rain a little earlier and save some of your trees! At least 18 new trees spring up. Somehow your island is doing better than it was when you started. (+18) 127 trees

@Taethowen / Wildlimb - The loss of your nineteen trees is devastating. But you are right - new life can rise anew from the old. The lost trees allow more sunlight to reach what remains of your herd without having to do any thinning yourself. The seeds you planted sprout into 2 new trees. While it doesn’t replace all that was lost, it is a start and that’s something. (+2) 112 trees

@Androthelm / Quagomar - It is never easy to lose a tree no matter how strong and stern you are. Do not be ashamed of your tears, Quagomar, but you may have a few more to scared away the dwarves and now a howling wind comes rushing in! Branches fly and the trees groan and creak and your crows hunker down for safety. Miraculously, the storm is short-lived and you only lose 1 tree. (-1) 71 trees

@corlisswyn / Kulunin - Bob, the last new tree, giggles - his chin is particularly ticklish! All of your trees rustle fondly at you, their caretaker. Such cozy sweaters you make them! But sweaters will not help them now. Rain has not fallen in months and the ground is dry and cracked. Leaves begin to wither and fall and 7 trees die of thirst. (-7) 94 trees

@Giliathriel / Mosshollow - It seems like you have some miscommunication ongoing with your herd. Or maybe they are all just rebellious teenage trees! You tell them to move and they stay still. Tell them to stay still, and they move. Worse, you just don’t have any luck lately. A swarm of beetles arrives and begin to munch greedily on their leaves; these beetles really love that sweet, sweet maple! All the leaves of 10 trees are eaten bare and do not survive. (-10) 68 trees

Loremaster of the Herd
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It came to my attention I left off an important '1' not once but twice -- @drifa actually rolled +18 not +8 (its in my spreadsheet if you don't believe me, I transposed it wrong) in Round Four, thus 114 + 18 does in fact equal a game-winning 132! I won't edit it just to save confusion for now.

I did warn you I'd get math/numbers wrong at some point, didn't I? Thank you to the detail-oriented person who pointed this out. You're a star.

Afird Splitax
Afird Splitax
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Rowantine - 132 Rowan
Rowantine stooped to look closer, still amazed. Having returned with 19 new saplings to her herd, she planted them in the soil and watered them with an earthenware vessel she had with her. That was her blessing to them. The elements would have to provide the water henceforth. As she made her way through the herd, hruming, hooming, soft murmured greetings, she notice a patch amongst the trees that appeared to have more sunlight in it than its surroundings. Striding towards it, she arrived to find more saplings sprouting from the earth. She waved her hands up in the air with delight, attracting Oyo and Goa's attention. The finches flew about the sunlit patch, singing their tin trumpet song. Taking all that was left of the morning to count, Rowantine now had eighteen more samplings to care for and to watch grow. The earth giveth and the earth taketh; then it gives it back again.

Thanks for a great game, Lail!
'I would not have you go without seeing Kheled-zâram.'

Ent Ancient
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Quagomar - 71 Trees

It was a small loss, another tree -- but only one, and better that a tree should fall to the wind and to the rain than to the sharp axes of wood-damned-bearded-folk. Death was a part of the natural cycle, and loss... But today's losses had been grim, and Crowhome thought that he would rest for a while, and let the trees govern themselves. Perhaps once he'd had a rest, he would guide his herd to somewhere safer, somewhere... deeper in the wood. But first, a long slumber.

Thank you for an excellent (if unlucky :cry: ) game!
In the deeps of Time, amidst the Innumerable Stars

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Needlecrown, 98 trees

The woodpecker flew off in a flash of red and black while Needlecrown stood still, limbs at the ready to drive it away again. They could hear the tap tap tapping, but Needlecrown listened intently and knew the woodpecker wasn't harming a living tree. A relief, certainly.

Another sound drifted in on the breeze, steady heavy footsteps following by a rhythmic clunk-thunk sort of noise. Somewhere beyond the range of hearing for most creatures, Needlecrown heard a tree cry out in agony. What new threat was this? A small creature, smaller than most men, and covered in a great deal of hair. It wielded a sharp blade that rose and fell, bringing Needlecrown's charges to their knees. No. This could not be allowed. Needlecrown shook their roots and all but ran to the dwarf, swinging their branches low to knock the foul interloper to the ground and stop it from cutting any more trees.

Thanks for a fun game, Lail! I really enjoyed stretching my RP skills a bit.
she/her/actual hobbit in search of a merrier world

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Pinecrown, 130 trees

There was nothing she could do to salvage the trees the orcs had felled or maimed, and so she set about to cleaning up the grove. "Brum, boom!" Pinecrown mumbled, kicking the orc's corpse away from the precious roots of her tree, nudging it off the edge of a nearby cliff and not bothering to linger to watch it fall. Who knew she was capable of such ire!

Just as she was getting ready to let out a mighty roar of rage, a shadow passed over her. She craned her rather inflexible neck up and saw several small objects tumbling out of the sky toward her as a great eagle passed by with a resounding cry. "Ohhh!" she exclaimed as pinecones tumbled and rolled on the ground around her and, as if they were in a hurry to do several years' worth of growing in moments, sprouted seedlings before her very eyes. Pinecrown beamed. "Ahhh! What a lovely, lovely sight!"

(OOC: Thanks for a super fun game, @Lail! :smooch:)
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Thain of The Mark
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Wildlimb the Weeping Willow
Entwife of Dale
112 trees (hawthorn, elder, apple)

Some years were harder than others, and the very nature of trees meant that years of effort could be ended with a single blow. Yet Wildlimb still rejoiced when she saw the two newest additions from the seeds she'd saved from the downed trees. She knew that some other form of devastation may roll through at any time, but trees were strong, and she would continue to guard them well.

OOC @Lail - this was a simply marvelous, laid-back game, and I'm a bit sad that it's over already! Good job, dear! :smooch:

New Soul
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Kulunin the Tangerine
94 Grape Vine Trees

"Hydrate, Hydrate, Hydrate! How many times have I told you all you need to carry your Orthanc branded water bottles with you!" Kulunin cried in frustration as seven grape trees died on him. "Drink up, everyone, we've got to go back to Isengard and open up a sweater shop!"

Newborn of Imladris
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Image Lya, 97 fruit and nut trees

Kementari must have heard her cry, she thought, gazing in mute admiration at the little saplings which which had grown in the recent rainy season. Little orange trees, growing in a little grove all their own, their voices were high and joyous, filled with vitality. She rejoiced to hear their sweet piquant tones, and if she plunged her hands deep into their soil, drawing deep to bring water and nutrients to bear, who shall blame her?

The thicket of brambles was encouraged to develop, spreading thicker until the promise of laden fruit trees in their midst was lost to sight, and would hopefully soon be lost to memory. Lya began to get wise, fearing another drought, she began to be intimate with the watercourses underground, diverting them to her cause and creating little pools of life under the eaves of little pockets of her beautiful herd, which sweetly sang their thanks in harmonious melodies which soothed her spirit, and if she did not quite forget those trees she had lost, then perhaps their memory was not quite so desperately raw.

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