Into Dol Guldur

[Bandobras]

  That should be five. What do we win Monty?
I marked another Shadow   

[Eclecticon]

Nice rolling, you two. 

[Telcontar]

Part 1

The companions parted in the macabre garden, some going further into the keep, while others remained on guard to prevent the Wizard from being blocked in the High Keep.

Grimbeorn and Rorin stood back to back scanning the garden. The eyes of the watchers still bored into them and the two felt uncomfortable and anxious standing in the open. At first the two watched as their companions entered into the maw of the high keep. When they had vanished the two unwillingly cast their eyes onto the stairs of woe that climbed higher into the hall of the necromancer. Both were glad that their errand did not force them in that direction, but the sooner their task was done the better it would be. As the wizard left their sight and company they felt as if Dol Guldur pressed even greater upon their bodies and hearts.

Radagast in the company of the other companions soon left the garden behind. Their footsteps echoed as they proceeded down the walkway of the high keep. As they entered the High Keep for a moment the companions were confused by what they saw. Instead of the dark horrors they expected instead they walked into a palace. While it was dirty, vacant, and abandoned the walls and niches were decorated by the pillaged treasures of lost kingdoms. The ranger of the south was not certain, but due to similarities in architecture and style she thought they belonged to the lost kingdom of Arnor.   Even the hobbit recognized some of the styles from the relics and mathoms that had come down to the shire from the north.

The Brown Wizard whispered, "this was the hall of our foes most trusted servants and spies, as well as the administrative center of his dark workings across the land. The Council of the wise searched this place quickly, most of the documents were already removed when we arrived. I'm afraid our assault was already known to the enemy when it came. Let us take a closer look and see what it is that we may find for ourselves."



As the companions spread out into the hall and noted the passages and side rooms the place the feeling of the place began to change. The initial feeling of being in a strange museum shifted, the companions now felt a malignant will set against them. Searching the High Keep became an exercise of supreme will. Stray thoughts began to interrupt the thought  process, dark thoughts or random ones that made concentration difficult.

Esgalwen was the first to call out to the companions and motioned them to come to her. As they arrived they saw slumped in the corner the dead remains of an orc. The marks on the floor showed that he had crawled from somewhere within the keep to die here in the hall. A blade protruded from the ribs of the brute, the flowing silver lines of its grip showed clearly that it was an elven blade of some kind. Orophin cried out when he spotted it and drew it from the beast examining the blade.

"This was made in my homeland to the north, they are sometimes traded or given as gifts to the men of Dale and Longlake."

Arbogast took a more patient approach to the examination of the dead orc. He prodded the beast and examined him, "this foul creature was not dead very long. Despite the proximity of the swamp he has not begun to corrupt. My guess is that he has only been dead a day or so, this fight occurred recently."

The ranger of the south quickly sought to trace where the creature had crawled from, but the trail went cold fairly quickly. The creature walked from somewhere and only began to leave a trail as it's life started to expire.

Again the companions fanned out through the hall. The elf Orophin, blade still clutched in his hand, wandered from the dead orc and began to examine the carving work of the pillars and the arches of the hall. As the group moved deeper into the keep Bandy noted the lagging elf and shepherded him further into the keep as they went deeper and away from the hall.

Esgalwen now stalked the halls of the keep. The blade of her friend gripped firmly in her hand as she plunged deeper into the depths of the keep. As the halls and stairs went deeper she peered into any adjoining rooms and marked the passages incase flight was necessary to the outside.

In time she came before an iron bound door that stood out from the others that she had passed and checked. This door had a large gouge in the iron plates as if a giant axe had been repeatedly smashed into it. The patient woodman was quickly be her side. "Bring the wizard, this door was not smashed open. Someone has picked the lock here, and recently." The woodman gripped his axe at the open door and waited for his comrades.

[tomcat]

Orophin knew he was being overwhelmed by the miasma of the fortress and he worried he might become a liability to his companions. The Hobbit had had to bring him back to the present - to where they were. What was happening to him?

The Elf tightened his grip on the ornate knife in his hand. He studied the architecture that had been wrought by skilled hands long ago. This was no work of the Shadow - no work done by orcs, crude and without beauty. No, this was a work done by the Elves of old...his folk.

Arbogast's cried words brought him back again to their current place. Orophin moved with the wizard to where the door stood closed and draped in sorcery. He slid the Elven knife into his belt and then drew his Mirkwood Bow. He quickly pulled an arrow and nocked it to string and drew back to his cheek. He waited as the door was opened, ready to fire if any threat revealed itself.
Tom, I am still waiting to know what the last I rolled for Orophin has caused, just so you know. He failed his Fear test TN 16 that you had requested, and I don't want to do something out of step if he is unable to.

[Telcontar]

I havent forgotten. I have been stuck down at Fort Bliss since last week so havent been able to type much, but the Eye result will come out in the next section. I havent forgotten.

[Eclecticon]

Yeesh, even I've heard of Fort Bliss.  My condolences, mate. 

[Telcontar]

Part Dos

The companions gathered in front of the iron banded door. Each of them had their own dark thoughts, hopes, and fears of what they would find behind it. The woodman, Arbogast, had heard nothing from the other side while he waited for his companions to assemble. Now that they were here he tightened his grip and nodded to the Halfling to throw open the door. Bandy nodded in return and stepped up to the great door, placed both hands upon its edge. The end of which was smooth and cold having stood closed and untouched by the elements until recently. The hobbit took a deep breath, looked at all of his companions again and gave a giant heave on the door.

Surprisingly the door swung open quickly and quietly and the Hobbit arced back against the wall with a thud. Beyond was only a corridor, lined with shelves and small chambers. Each one of the party members let out a breath that they didn't know they were holding until that moment.

"We have found the library," were the quiet words of Radagast breaking the silence.

It was apparent to the companions that the halls and rooms once contained a great many books and scrolls. From the state of things currently it looked as if someone had cleared out most of the items in a hurry. The discarded scraps and items that littered the corners and the lone pages that could been seen on the shelf were not left or discarded on purposes, but purely scattered about or lost due to haste.

"Come friends," said the wizard, "let us see what may learn here."

The companions spread out and began to explore the rooms and passages and gather up what they thought might be important for Radagast to assess. And so they proceeded, room to room, gathering up scraps of paper to bring to the wizard. He sat by the door, like a crane building a nest while the paper and detritus of the library collected and gathered around him. As the companions gathered up the documents they noted that they were in many and diverse languages, some wholly unknown to the adventurers. With each one Radagast would scan it quickly, make some comment and either toss it on the floor or occasionally fold it up. His comments were sparse and almost absent minded, 'this is elvish', 'ah Haradrim odd', 'blech black speech DO not read that aloud here'. Each document they brought no matter how strange the wizard seemed able to read and grasp in an instant.

From the documents that the companions scanned they quickly gleaned that the library contained the messages or reports of the spies that the Necromancer. Most alarming of all was both the depth of detail and the range in which his spies seemed to collect knowledge. Reports of missions into the Anduin Vales, scouts exploring and reporting on the conditions of roads, crop yields among the woodmen with some going back many years, names and places of people who no longer lived, and finally a report that outlined the military forces of Lake-town that may have been current as recently as last year.

A cry from Bandy broke the search of the others, peering into a room the hobbit spied a man. He was quick to nock an arrow, but soon realized that the man was unmoving and slain. Here in a corner room of the library lay a man from Lake-town. His clothes were well worn, and his cloak was covered in mud, muck, and blood. His staring eyes looked to the ceiling while his hand clasped a jagged wound in his gut, the ribbon of his entrails just beginning to protrude between his fingers.

The companions quickly gathered in the room and the shuffling sound of Radagast was heard as he made his way down the hall. Esgalwen spied the orc blade at his side, the instrument clearly had condemned the man to death. Arbogast looked at the man and the area around his feet.

"He was surprised and attacked from behind. There his empty shealth, it must be the mate to the blade you carry Orophin."

The man carried no gear and as the woodman examined the corpse he found also a pouch of silver lozenge shaped pennies. Spilling some of the sixty coins into his hand he examined them.

"Those are pennies from Thranduil's Hall," said Orophin. "We use them when trading with outsiders."

While the large folk examined the body of the man the hobbit continued to explore the room. He noticed that the man had crawled or stumbled to the position he was now in. Looking closely Bandy noticed a grate in the floor. Inching closer he spied a handful of papers jammed into the opening, some stained in blood.

His small hand reached easily into the grating and extracted the papers. He quickly unfolded them and smoothed them out from habit. The hobbit ordered them into uniform orientation and unfolded as if they were forgotten letters on his desk at home. While the others examined the body he quickly scanned the pages, noting that they were in the common speech and of a script that Bandy could read.

"Hi, this looks important," said the hobbit.

Bandy scanned quickly, "Orophin, this says the elves keep a watch of three companies upon some path, and deployed around a glade of some sort near..."

"IEEEE!" Came the high call from the elf as he snatched the papers from the Hobbit's hand. "Cease your tongue!"

Trembling the elf read the pages in his hand. The news struck the elf like a physical blow as his eyes rapidly scanned the pages. The elf moaned, tears sprung and fell from his eyes as if he had walked an hour in the rain. His lips quivered and his skin grey almost translucent pale.

The elf poured over the report on the defenses of his own home to the north. Each detail assaulted him like a knife wound. Each description a blade twist in his stomach. As he read his mind's eye conjured up a vision of the place as he had seen it last, but that image was then overrun by shadow and death as each one of his friends he knew there were cut down by shadow, fire, and blades. His mind and heart were assaulted by the knowledge that the enemy had such perfect knowledge of things even the Elf King considered secret. In a moment Orophin despaired, like the Noldo Kingdoms of old Beleriand his home would be raped and despoiled. Dropping the pages he ran screaming from the hall, the elf was undone. 

The companions watched, none had, nor would possibly ever, see the like of which again.

Radagast grabbed the papers and scanned quickly, "COME, there is nothing more to learn here that is more troubling than this." The wizard stood back from the door and ushered the others out. "Quickly, follow him. I know not what he might do."

Quickly the companions, with the wizard in the trail, fled the halls of the Necromancer.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast moves as quickly as he can, trying to keep Orophin within earshot.  The possibility that his friend may be lost to despair in these halls forever - or until the forces of the Shadow return to reclaim it - drives him on, though the elf's feet be fleet and his passage quiet. 


I suspect that this is once again the end of a scene, but I'll make an Athletics roll to catch up to Orophin in case you need it.

 

Rolled 2d6 : 5, 4, total 9
Rolled 1d12 : 10, total 10

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn grimaced as he reviewed what was gleaned about his people.  Most of it came from those that traveled through the land but plenty was gathered from the Misty Mountains to the west, Gundabad to the north, and even from Mirkwood.  "Even the spiders of the realm bow to his will," he thought.  His irritation with the rest of the group grows as they can't seem to keep themselves quiet as this was no place to be squeaking or squealing, so he continues his death grip on his cherished family heirloom.

[tomcat]

Orophin ran into the gloom outside the keep. His foot falls, light across the ground, did not sink into the deep morass. A rage was on him and he strove to regain his wits.

There is a spy in my home, he thought to himself. His mind raced through ideas as to what he should do. The Elf wanted to continue running - all the way to the Hall of his king to report this treachery. But he could not abandon his friends, could he? These people were now more than just acquaintances, more than people he had met at a gathering, they had shared bread together. They had bled together.

Grimbeorn grumbled at his passing and Orophin turned a wicked eye on the man. How dare he! It was not the house of Grimbeorn that was being betrayed, evidenced by the parchments found within this foul place!

Arbogast found Orophin panting and pulling at his hair. So far! He was so far away from his home. Even now the treachery could be poisoning his folk and the realm could be afire. The woodman spoke calmly and reassuringly to the Elf and Orophin allowed the words to ease his mind. These were friends and allies - and as he would do all that he could to not see their house burn, so he knew that they would, too.

It was as if an oppressive will suddenly released him and the Silvan Elf righted himself. He turned to Arbogast and gave a wan smile, "We must away from here lest this place takes us all." The woodman nodded his agreement and they turned back to see the others approaching.

Radagast led the way, his stride long and urgent. "We head home via the quickest route. Pull tight your belts and muster your strength - there will be no warm beds nor food until we reach Rhosgobel. Let us hope that nothing bars our way!"

The Company stepped up their pace to that of the Brown wizard's. They pushed through the inner gatehouse, to the large outer yard beyond leaving behind the Watchers and the dead Mallorns. They trodded the path as it weaved and wound through the orc warrens and terrible holes of the expansive yard. What this place had once been - a garden and arbor full of grapes and fruits - and what it was now began to once more erode the Elf's will. The party heard faint, far off cries, sad and forlorn. Maybe it was the land, or maybe there were still individuals trapped in the Necromancer's dungeons within the warrens crying out for a freedom that would never be theirs.

Still, as hoped by the wizard, nothing barred their way.

The outer gatehouse was before them and after would be the bridge over the moat, the moathouse, and then the Fenbridge. It seemed a daunting and unending path of danger and weariness, but Radagast did not break stride and his encouraged pace bolstered the Company. Their boots echoed through the hollow of the gatehouse and then the moat loomed, barring their way save for the thin span across it.

Eerie mists that glowed with unnatural light was animated above the water and along the bridge. When they had entered, the moat had been covered with the gruesome fog, but it had not grasped at the bridge as it did now. A low, fearful moan filled the air and panic welled within each of the companions -even the wizard took pause.

It seemed Radagast's hopes of a clear path were for naught.
I need ALL PC's to roll a Valour test TN 16. Any PC impeded by Fear within the fortress, and thus unable to use Hope, is freed from this grip.

[Eclecticon]

Here goes nothing -

Rolled 1d12 : 10, total 10
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 2, total 8

[tomcat]

Orophin

TN 16 Valour ♦♦

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 1, 5, total 6

[tomcat]

LOL! This damned Elf is doomed! A freaking !!

[GandalfOfBorg]

 

TN 16 Valour -  1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 3d6 : 5, 2, 4, total 11

[disench4nted]

  TN16 Valour

Rolled 1d12 : 11, total 11

Rolled 2d6 : 4, 1, total 5