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:ooc: First off, hello everyone! Welcome back to our Chronicles of the North game.

Even though Star Wars is still active and going into its fourth year, I have been wanting to get my other games moving again. So, LotR and Star Trek are going to start seeing some activity.

If any players are here that no longer want to play in either game, let me know. If any players are now back and want to have their PC's back in a game then let me know (i.e. Matt... although I have no idea of what to do with Darkan and how he would be back on board the Columbia.)

Anyway, here we go with getting back to the riders out of Amaran.

---

Dol Gormain was now two days behind the riders and the summer heat weighed heavy on man and horse alike, as they made the arduous trek across the En Udanoriath (S. "The No Man's Land"). Udanoriath was desolate, but not empty. The once fertile and well-settled regions of Northern Arnor, it was now a grassland that was dotted with old, broken towers and ruined towns, like those in Dol Gormain. Arethedain kept a contingent of soldiers along the North Road and into Udanoriath, but had too few Men to hold it, and the Witch-king lacked the strength to permanently conquer it.

The grass on the plain grew to the length of the horses' knees and it had taken on an amber color, dried as it was under the summer sun. It looked as if little rain had fallen here in a while, dust devils spinning up whenever the winds would blow. Dirnhael lifted his hand to shade his eyes so that he could gaze out across the distance. Edrahil, his trusted companion, rode up to where he stood, "There is nothing there, Dirnhael, lest your eyes can now see further than mine."

Behind the two, Fengel, Ginnar, Madoc, and Celdrahil brought their own horses to a stop. The Éothraim withdrew his waterskin and took a good pull from it. He grimaced at the warmth of the fluid, wishing instead for the clear cool streams that he now enjoyed in his lands down south. He called out, "Dirnhael, shouldn't we be seeing some, if not all, of Camentir's host?"

The commander of the King's Third Host was a good friend and ally. He and his force were stationed along the Angmar frontier, though they had no permanent settlement, instead using guerilla tactics to harry the enemy. But Fengel was right, Dirnhael knew that the road to Eldanar should have brought them to Camentir at some point. He continued to stare out into the distance.

 :ooc: So excited to be back!

Quote from: tomcat on Feb 24, 2012, 09:06 PM

Dirnhael lifted his hand to shade his eyes so that he could gaze out across the distance. Edrahil, his trusted companion, rode up to where he stood, "There is nothing there, Dirnhael, lest your eyes can now see further than mine."

"How I wish it," he said with a smile.

Quote from: tomcat on Feb 24, 2012, 09:06 PM
Behind the two, Fengel... called out, "Dirnhael, shouldn't we be seeing some, if not all, of Camentir's host?"

The commander of the King's Third Host was a good friend and ally. He and his force were stationed along the Angmar frontier, though they had no permanent settlement, instead using guerilla tactics to harry the enemy. But Fengel was right, Dirnhael knew that the road to Eldanar should have brought them to Camentir at some point. He continued to stare out into the distance.

"Indeed," he replied, filled with a sudden unease. Camentir's men were hardy, loyal, and large in number. He doubted that they could be completely overrun without some word reaching outposts further south. But they could, perhaps, be drawn away...

"Where are they?" he said to no one in particular. He raised his voice. "We ride, until either shelter or allies present themselves."
He turned to Edrahil and spoke quietly. "We should be wary of the road as we proceed."

Madoc's expression was grim. The others' words worried him, but he would go with them until the threat he had witnessed was taken care of.

"Aye, Lord Dirnhael," he replied to the Dunadan's words. "I just dearly hope one of them shows up soon," he added, more to himself than the others.

:ooc: Ditto on the excitement! ;D

The Gondorian sat high and proud upon his mount, his eyes always alert for surprise or ambush.

"Lord Camentir is a good man, and a solid commander. Let us not doubt him out of our own anxieties. He is where he needs to be. I wish we had a falcon though, I bet this open area is teaming with game."

Quote from: Telcontar on Feb 27, 2012, 04:48 AM
"Lord Camentir is a good man, and a solid commander. Let us not doubt him out of our own anxieties. He is where he needs to be. I wish we had a falcon though, I bet this open area is teaming with game."

"Certainly better than the spider-lands," Dirnhael admitted, happy to be past them. "There, the game was us."

The conversation continued on a lighter note for the rest of the day. Slowly the sun made its way behind the Company and began to cast an orange light over the horizon. It became cooler now that the day was fading and spirits became lighter still. This journey was unlike the one that the men had made almost two years past - then it had been cold and the fear of sickness and the Witch-king weighed heavy on them all. Now though the Lord of the Iron Lands was still a very real threat, his presence seemed diminished by the light of the sun.

Fengel began to look for adequate folds in the land where they might make a camp for the night, and in which their fire could be built. The light of a fire could be a beacon to both friend and foe, and so the companions preferred to maintain some bit of stealth. While the Éothraim seached, the two Dúnedain spoke to themselves and the Dwarf cursed his small pony for its uneven gait. Madoc rode along in silence behind the Company and Edrahil rode at its fore. The Sindar had also been keeping his gaze peeled to the horizon and had seen naught for the day, but that changed as the sun began to lower below the distant western horizon.

He held up his hand to gain his friends attention, and then spoke softly, "Harken! There is movement before us. Horses... though I do not perceive any riders."

Celdrahil upon seeing the elf raise his hand brought his shield around to its proper fighting position while his spear remained up as it had so far on the journey. The small green pinion stirred as he readied himself. The Gondorian Knight took few chances, it was always better to look prepared and armed even if one was meeting friends or allies.

Dirnhael put his hand upon Vorandur, and whispered to Edrahil.
"Can your eyes see if they are saddled?"

This was not Fengel's land; on occasion, packs of horses roamed free here.
But he doubted it was the case on this night, not with Camentir's men away.

With any luck, the horses' masters were of Camentir's host.
If not... Dirnhael began to think of all the ways that he could make the riders tell him where Camentir went, and gripped his sword a bit tighter.

Madoc quickly strung his bow as Dirnhael and Edrahil conversed and Celdrahil brought his shield to bear. His grim mood from earlier in the day returned, and any sign of movement struck him as hostile in this land. At least the grassland allowed plenty of open space for his bow to do its work.

Edrahil spoke to Dirnhael, "Some of the animals do appear to be saddled, though they look in disarray. Bridles hang from bits and one horse looks to have its saddlebag pulled from its flank, though it still drags it behind. Also, Dirnhael, these are not horses of the Éothraim, which are strong and tall; nor are they of the Elves, which also tend to be tall, but more slender. These appear to be the shaggy ponies of the northern marches of Arnor, which generally roam along the feet of the Misty Mountains - the Hillmen of the north take these animals as mounts. This said, I can be most certain that this was no rank of Camentir's host."


The animals in the distance just moved amongst themselves, occassionaly lowering their heads to crop the grass - no men moved amongst them. The wind blew the grass as the shadows from the companions began to grow longer with the setting sun. The Sindar looked to each of them, "I see no apparent threat, but be on your guard."

---

:ooc: Do you all approach?

Dirnhael relayed the information to his fellows, and gripped his sword.
"It is unlikely that we will find friends here. The horses appear as if they fled - or were abandoned - after a battle."
He paused, knowing what he was asking.
"There is no way to discover anything further from here; I suggest we search the horses' saddlebags and the area for further information regarding Camentir or his mens' whereabouts."

"Indeed. Let us clos the distance, then Madoc and I will approach. He can cover me with his bow while I check for an ambush, then call the others up to secure and search the area."

Quote from: Telcontar on Mar 05, 2012, 05:52 PM
"Indeed. Let us clos the distance, then Madoc and I will approach. He can cover me with his bow while I check for an ambush, then call the others up to secure and search the area."

"Very well," Dirnhael replied. He wasn't the type to ask anyone to do what he would not. "I shall join you while Edrahil watches for signs of movement."

Madoc nodded at Celdrahil's suggestion. "Aye, I'll cover you, but if this is an ambush, there are liable to be as many men as there are horses, and I don't like those odds. Neverless, Dirnhael is right, we need to find out what we can."

"I'll approach only close enough to see that what we see from here is accurate and there is no trap."

 :ooc: Tomcat - I love the picture you posted. It really sets the scene nicely.

Feeling the ill-ease in his pony made Ginnar even more unsettled. Having little skill in riding, the dwarf tried to calm the both of them, but his voice was gruff, "Easy now. Easy."

Speaking to himself mostly, Ginnar mumbled, "I'd almost welcome a fight... anything to get me out of the blasted saddle."

Celdrahil spurred his horse onwards with Dirnhael in close proximity. The two Dúnedain were flanked at a distance by Madoc and Fengel who both were now armed with bow and arrow, while behind them the Sindar and Dwarf sat still upon their horses - Edrahil's eyes scanning the horizon for any new threat and Ginnar tensely flexing his fingers on his axe haft.

The wild horses skittered at the men's approach, trotting off a ways from them. Dirnhael looked around him now that he stood amidst the animals. He could see no sign of an encounter. The grasses were bent and broken in places where the horses had stood or moved about, but there was no characteristic evidence of an engagement. Nor was there any sign of bodies... or was there?

Celdrahil pointed and Dirnhael looked to see a figure sitting down in the tall grass, his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. Madoc and Fengel also began to move themselves in towards their companions and both could now see him, as well. He was untidy in simple clothes and skins and looked as if he hadn't bathed in weeks. The man paid no attention to the companions as they approached, he only rocked back in forth in some sort of stupor.

Edrahil and Ginnar let their curiosity take hold and they clicked their horses forward.

"Hail, friend," Dirnhael said gently as he approached. "Are you injured? Can we help you?"
He waited for a response before asking any more questions - the man had obviously seen something.

The reaction to Dirnhael's approach was a mixture of terror, confusion, and then relief. The Dúnadan could see by the man's facial features he was of the northmen stock that resided along the mountains and into Angmar - he was not one of Camentir's soldiers.

When Dirnhael spoke, the man had turned of a sudden at the sound and crab-walked backwards with his hands, a terrible dread upon his face. The dread slowly resolved itself into a look of surprise and then a smile cracked his parched lips. He stood up, looking around as he did at the Company, pointing at them as if reassuring himself that they were real.

"Are you injured? Can we help you?" Dirnhael asked again. The Northman gave a slight giggle and then said, "We must hide... the dead walk the Udanoriath!"

Edrahil could see immediately that the stranger suffered from the sun and dehydration. He dismounted and drew his waterskin off of his saddlehorn. "He needs water, Celdrahil." At the sight of the Sindar, the man's face changed once more to one of fear and he began to meekly hunker back down into the grass, mumbling as he did.

"I have heard no report of wights or their ilk of late," Dirnhael said to the rest. "But I have faced them before in unexpected places. It is possible that may be what he referred to."
Deep down, Dirnhael hoped so, at least. Anything that could be confused for the dead - but wasn't - sounded even more terrifying.

"Edrahil," he asked softly, "see what you can learn from him. In the meantime, we will be on our guard. Though I would like to keep moving, it is not right to leave this man, and since the horses still graze, this area may be safe - at least for one night."

Fengel looked the man up and down, "Dirnhael, he is an enemy of your land. Afraid or no, a dagger in the night can end this quest real quickly."

Not waiting for an answer, the Éothraim began to move again on his horse, clicking with his mouth as he did in a soothing manner. He approached the first pony and took up its reins, 'Madoc! See if you can gather those horses over there and we can make move them away from our camp. We do not want to be stepped on by these stout animals."

The Sindar spoke next, "Fengel we will not be so careless as to let him go unguarded."

The Elf approached the man with hands outstretched and open, the waterskin hanging there at easy reach. "Come, man... embolden your heart. You have nothing to fear from us lest you bring it upon yourself. Here, take this water and slake your thirst."

The Northman reached out a quivering hand and slowly took the offered water. He pulled the corked seal and took a long draw from it. Once done, he looked to them all, "The night moves with the ghosts of men... and they suffer none to stand before them. Before all is a dark rider that sits atop a huge mount that has no eyes. You must make your way from here... the Witch-king has brought down his wrath on us all for disobedience! He draws now upon the dead to serve him instead of the living! In my camp, the sick and dying rise in the night and are gone with the dawn. They bolster this terrible captain's ranks!"

Again the man's face blanched from memories of what he had seen. The companions all knew that the Plague still raged through the north, even though a treatment had been found. It was mainly serving the city of Fornost and small towns, while all outlying areas and simple homesteads still suffered the illness.

"Aye," Madoc replied to Fengel. "I for one wouldn't much care to sleep in their dung, either," he added, trying to lighten the mood, though his mind rested on the resemblance between the shadows he had seen and this man's statement that the dead fought for the Witch-king.

The Northman rode up to Dirnhael and spoke to him in a lowered voice. "Dirnhael, might these dead with their dark captain be the danger Gandalf sent me to warn you of? I know not what the shadows were that attacked the pair of us, but the spirits of the dead seems as likely an explanation as any."

Quote from: Nolmir on Mar 14, 2012, 06:35 AM

The Northman rode up to Dirnhael and spoke to him in a lowered voice. "Dirnhael, might these dead with their dark captain be the danger Gandalf sent me to warn you of? I know not what the shadows were that attacked the pair of us, but the spirits of the dead seems as likely an explanation as any."

"Such spectres would be well-enough reason for warning," he nodded. "We shall be vigilant."
He planned to consult with Edrahil; hoping the centuries-older and wiser elf might have some insight into what they might be facing.

With the horses now gathered and moved a distance away, the companions began to search the area for any signs of their captive's companions, Camentir's people, or any evidence of the roaming dead. There was plenty of trampling of the ground but there was nothing to show that any men died here, save the horses that were in disarray and riderless.

The sun lay on the horizon at their backs and so Fengel and Madoc made themselves busy with a preparation of camp. They found a defilade, which would allow shelter of the light from their fire, and cleared a ring of grass so that one could be safely built. Gear was retrieved from the flanks of their mounts and things were slowly made ready. All the while, Edrahil stood and watched the northern and southern horizons for any sign of men... or anything. But only the natural wildlife of the plain was visible - hawks that floated in lazy circles over the prairie, only to pitch down into dives that either ended with some unseen prey, or a miss.

Soon a crackling fire was glowing and the companions began to gather. The northman had been bound to assure that no daggers in the night would end this troupe, and also to keep him from running away. The Sindar sat next to the fire, while Ginnar constructed a small metal support that he carried on his pony, on which he hung a cooking pot. He smiled up at Edrahil, "When Madoc and Fengel return, I will show you how good a cook a dwarf can be. A couple stewed coneys will make for a happy belly!" The Elf smiled in agreement, "I look forward to tasting your stew, Ginnar."

Dirnhael and Celdrahil had been keeping watch, but soon made their way to the fire ring. If anything was coming, they had plenty of time to make decisions, as there was nothing to be seen in any direction. Besides, though the day had been quite warm, the endless plain quickly chilled without the sun. The breeze stirred and rustled the grasslands as it blew cool air out of Angmar. They were three days ride now to Eldanar and their first intended goal given to them by Gandalf the Gray.

"We ride in the morning," Dirnhael said. "I see no reason to tarry here."
He looked back to the rattled man within their camp.

"We cannot simply leave him to his fate, troubled as he is." he suggested. "But I am at a loss in deciding what is to be done with him."

Celdrahil studied the terrain a bit and looked at the places where the natural line of drift would funnel anyone approaching the camp. The draw would hide their fire smoke, but the depressions in the terrain would also tend to channel someone into their campsite as the easiest path for anyone mounted or on foot. The Dunédain checked on his horse and began working the harness of his horse. He worked the silver bells of the horses harness and blanket off. What at first seemed to be superfluous aristocratic ornament soon revealed itself as a detachable object. In his hand he now held a tightly woven silken thread from which silver bells hung. Taking the line he went off again into the dark towards one of the paths that led into the camp. In a few short minutes Celdrahil had tied the rope off between some scrub brush about six inches off of the ground, effectively setting up a trip wire to alert the camp if anyone tried to cross it in the dark.

Returning to the campfire the warrior next removed his bow from his traveling gear and strung it, placing several arrows in the ground by the bow and the place he would soon be sleeping in. Sitting down he caught the last comments made about the prisoner.

"The northern men are not so sundered from the Elendili in speech that we have forgotten our ancient kinship. Let us give the man a horse, some water, and send him on his way. After all he is a northman, not an easterling or other swarthy servant of the shadow."

Dirnhael nodded in agreement. "So be it. Sleep lightly tonight, my friends. In the morn, we will send him on his way."

"There are plenty of horses to give the man, to be sure," Madoc said. The northman stood and paced. "But you all saw how he was when we found him. Do you really think he will be able to survive on his own in the wild?" He paused. "I don't know what else to do with him, though.

"Still, my mum used to say, 'If you want a friend, be a friend.' Who knows, this man may be able to tell us more, once he's calmed down some." He returned to sitting by the fire. "But if I'm the only one who feels that way, then so be it."

Quote from: Nolmir on Mar 20, 2012, 04:35 AM
"There are plenty of horses to give the man, to be sure," Madoc said. The northman stood and paced. "But you all saw how he was when we found him. Do you really think he will be able to survive on his own in the wild?" He paused. "I don't know what else to do with him, though.

"Still, my mum used to say, 'If you want a friend, be a friend.' Who knows, this man may be able to tell us more, once he's calmed down some." He returned to sitting by the fire. "But if I'm the only one who feels that way, then so be it."

"We shall attempt to speak to him further before he send him on his way - and make sure he has recovered well enough to ride," Dirnhael noted with an appreciative nod. "But we cannot linger, especially if something walks these plains."

:ooc: I will update this story, but first I need to get your dialogue with the prisoner if you are going to talk to him.

"Celdrahil," Dirnhael said that morning, "your tongue is far more silvered than my own. Would you please see what you can glean from our guest before we send him on his way?"

"I am not an interrogator of prisoners, ones with broken minds least of all."

Celdrahil cut the man loose from his bonds. The dagger was still in his hands however as he spoke to the man upon the ground.

"Your life such as it is shall be spared. If you follow or hinder us the black shadow you fled from will be a welcome haven compared to our wrath at a betrayal by you. Now tell me of these walking dead as payment for your freedom and a mount to carry you."

:ooc: I am going to try and counter intimidate him. I figure this guys mind is mostly toast already so instead of trying to piece him together I am going to try and use his fear to get what he knows out of him by providing a more immediate threat.

Intimidate (Power)+3 (+2 specilaty?) = 5

Quote from: Telcontar on Apr 05, 2012, 06:30 AM
:ooc: I am going to try and counter intimidate him. I figure this guys mind is mostly toast already so instead of trying to piece him together I am going to try and use his fear to get what he knows out of him by providing a more immediate threat.

"I am not an interrogator of prisoners, ones with broken minds least of all."

:ooc: Oh, no. Not you...  ;)

Celdrahil was a typical Dúnadan - tall in stature and bearing. Once stern, his face could bend the will of lesser men, even those who did not recognize the nobility that ran through his bloodline. The north man prisoner was calmer now then when they had found him. The Dúnadan's approach started him and Celdrahil's tone caused him to begin to shift from one foot to the next. It made the noble change his mood, "Calm boy! Just speak what you know."

The young warrior looked up and met Celdrahil's eyes, "In my home village of Caer Beldwyn it came ten seasons past... a fire in the sky. It shone in the sky brighter than the moon and even in the light of day was it seen. It hung there for six days and then burst into a flare of smoke and fire on the seventh, falling from the heavens.

"We feared the return of dragons, for surely only the beasts of legend could create such fire, smoke and fear. Our Elders had private council and much tribute was prepared to be sent to Angmar to appease the Dark Lord there, so as not to bring this wrath down upon us. On the seventh day, the fire fell across the horizon and thunder boomed over the world. Then it was gone.

"Soon after, the fevers came into our village. Traders from the east came and some were taken with this fever. Some were choked with coughing and vomit. The Elders turned them away, but it made no difference - the evil they carried with them was left in Caer Beldwyn. Our old began to die first, along with the children. Only the strong lived and most did that by separating those with the Coughing Death from the rest of us. Bodies were burnt to cleanse them and to again offer them up to the Witch-king.

"Caer Beldwyn was no longer the strong rampart it had been. The Ashaktur continued to send his commanders to conscript all able-bodied men into the armies of Angmar. I was taken a year ago on my Age Day. Soon, there were no more men to take. The villages of the North have been hit hard by the Choking Death that came from the sky.

"Then the Shadows came. We in the army began to see dark movements across the plain. Dark shades that did not have body, led by a gruesome figure atop a black horse. We feared them, but the Ashaktur ordered all living ranks to keep file with our commanders and to heed this dark figure. It is said he sits atop the old throne of Eldanar, though that castle is in ruin."

Celdrahil listened to the man's tale, all too familiar to the description of the plague.

"Very well you have ransomed yourself with the truth of your story. The north has not been the only lands afflicted with such pestilence. In the lands of the south, it has come as well and devastated whole cities. Reject and forget your service to these dark powers and walk in the light of the Lords of the West, their dominion consist of caretaking and support and is not forced.

"So, where are you bound and where will you go? Times are perilous and danger grows all around. If you make it as far as Fornost tell the stable master there that Lord Celdrahil sent you to him and he may find something for you. Or, since it appears you have some military training, and you think that your courage can hold, you can accompany me as a squire, and in some small way gain revenge against the oppression of your people while fighting our common enemy."

Madoc nodded approvingly at Celdrahil's reply to their prisoner. He felt compassion, even empathy, for the man, seeing as how both of their homes and lives had been destroyed by the Enemy's machinations.

"It is true what Celdrahil says. You are far better off in the service of the Dunedain lords - though they be, on occasion, arrogant, you will be treated far more kindly than as a pawn of Angmar. I will not lie - danger lies in whatever direction you choose for yourself, so will you help the enemies of the Shadow that destroyed your village? Or will you aid your old masters, even if by doing nothing?"

The man looked at Madoc, "Long have we lived in fear of the Men of the West. From the old tales of their coming and claiming the lands of those that had lived here for many lives of fathers, to now with their constant raids into Angmar. Life here is hard enough and it is only through the protection of the Witch-king that we maintain any strength... I will give my answer with the morning light. Surely then signs will present themselves and the gods will speak to me through wind and soil." He then looked at Celdrahil, "Do you speak truths? Will I really have a horse and a free road, if that be my choice?"

The Dúnadan felt a flare of temper rise with the question but he silently suppressed it, "The road will be yours." He then stood and left Madoc and the Angmarim to themselves and strode to where Edrahil, Fengel and Dirnhael sat by the fire. The Elf looked at him, "So, nothing new that we did not know already, eh? Well the one thing that is revealed is that whatever it is that walks the Earth when it should be sleeping in the Halls of Mandos, is that it does not make ally of anyone."

Madoc and the stranger soon joined the others around the fire and slowly the companions found sleep, only one keeping watch. The night passed.

The morning did come with a change - a lone rider came from the south along the road that they had journeyed. The traveler came upon them urgently and alarmingly, but soon the keen eyes of Edrahil quelled this fear. It only took a short while before the Lord Durgil of Dorthad trotted his horse to a stop on the outskirt of the Company's camp. He smiled down at this brother-in-law, Dirnhael, "You know I can't let you have all the fun."

Dismounting, the two men locked their arms in greeting and soon they were all once more around the fire. Edrahil spoke, "So this Dark Rider sits upon the throne of Eldanar. That ruined castle is two days ride from here. What is our plan, Dirnhael? Since we have not yet seen him, I do not believe that the Lord Camentir and his Host will be along this road."

---

:ooc: Feel free to add any dialogue you want prior to the new morning, but I am going to be moving the game along... seeing as I have dragged it to a screeching halt due to all of my travels!  ;)

Dirnhael greeted Durgil with a hearty embrace. "A welcome surprise," he said. "Better than the one that may await us, I fear."
He explained the disappearance of Camentir's host and what their 'guest' has said they may have faced.

At Edrahil's question, Dirnhael waited only a moment before replying.
"We continue along our own road; more wary than before. Let us endeavor to remain unseen along it for as long as we can. The only thing that has been made clear thus far is that our goals may be even more important than expected."

 :ooc: stock answer! Brilliant!  ;D

Celdrahil went through is usual ritual of preparing his gear and his mount for the days ride ahead. When we was done he prepared a mount for the northern man as well. One of the swords that they had found earlier hung from the pommel.

"So northerner do you ride with us or away?"

"You haven't happened upon Camentir?  Sore news indeed.  In Fornost I presented the message of Mithrandir to the king and petitioned for the assistance our friend, the captain, but no direct order was given -- he left it to the discretion of Lord Camentir," he heavied a sigh out of breath and frustration.  "I have ridden far and hard to catch up to you though.  Ioreth and Gleowyn felt that I would be remiss in my duty if neither of you returned so I have come thusly to ensure your safety," said the young noble in jest.  At saying her name though, Durgil took a moment, reminded of his farewell to his love.

Celdrahil assembled with the other Dunedain and reverted to the old speech.

"Mithrandir knows what he is about. His further involvement in this enterprise underscores its greater importance. He is a man of many burdens, and when his whole attention is fixed on one you can be sure that it is full of great danger.

"I do not know the workings of the northern army, but with much transpiring it may have been led away. We must trust to the skill and devotion of its commander and focus on the tasks before us. When we come to this keep what is our course of action. My normal approach is to hit it with a sword, but if its already dead I doubt that will help. Edrahil, have you any knowledge or thoughts on this matter? Though I am loath to say it, our mission here may be one in which we focus on information gathering and not confrontation."

Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on Apr 15, 2012, 07:40 PM
"I have ridden far and hard to catch up to you though.  Ioreth and Gleowyn felt that I would be remiss in my duty if neither of you returned so I have come thusly to ensure your safety," said the young noble in jest.  At saying her name though, Durgil took a moment, reminded of his farewell to his love.

Dirnhael laughed and nodded. "I know better than to question the wisdom of your sister."

Quote from: Telcontar on Apr 16, 2012, 10:24 AM
Celdrahil assembled with the other Dunedain and reverted to the old speech.

"Mithrandir knows what he is about. His further involvement in this enterprise underscores its greater importance. He is a man of many burdens, and when his whole attention is fixed on one you can be sure that it is full of great danger.

"I do not know the workings of the northern army, but with much transpiring it may have been led away. We must trust to the skill and devotion of its commander and focus on the tasks before us. When we come to this keep what is our course of action. My normal approach is to hit it with a sword, but if its already dead I doubt that will help. Edrahil, have you any knowledge or thoughts on this matter? Though I am loath to say it, our mission here may be one in which we focus on information gathering and not confrontation."

"I am inclined to agree," Dirnhael said. "It seems that we may be facing something greater than what our party could overcome. Though I would also prefer not to, the wiser course of of action may be to observe - if we fall, there would be no one left to warn the southlands."

"Then the best course of action might not be to ride so openly. Perhaps we can scrounge enough cloaks and blankets from the Northmen site to disguise ourselves. The ruse would not work up close, but from a distance we may be mistaken for simple soldiers, or a lost and wandering patrol. I doubt our foe moves much during the full light of day, but I am sure that their spies are about, as we draw closer they will guard their lair in some manner.

"Mayhaps it would do for a bit of surveillance ahead of our own before we move out from here to get the lay of the land, diffuse any traps, or at least identify any that would spy a troop but let a single man go unnoticed," mused Durgil.  It has been awhile since he stretched legs like this and he was anxious to be out again.  He dared not speak that aloud for reproach would come ever so swiftly but never so elegantly and forcefully just as his brother in law knows all too well.

Quote from: Telcontar on Apr 16, 2012, 05:04 PM
"Then the best course of action might not be to ride so openly. Perhaps we can scrounge enough cloaks and blankets from the Northmen site to disguise ourselves. The ruse would not work up close, but from a distance we may be mistaken for simple soldiers, or a lost and wandering patrol. I doubt our foe moves much during the full light of day, but I am sure that their spies are about, as we draw closer they will guard their lair in some manner.

"A sensible precaution," Dirnhael said with a nod.

Celdrahil set about disguising his equipment and concealing the make up of the party. He spied the northman again, "So your still here. Have you taken the auguries and decided on a course of action?"

Madoc cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I do not know the high speech of your kind. Would someone be so kind as to tell me what is going on?" His polite speech emphasized the daggers his glare shot at Celdrahil.

"As soon as our guest who has served in the ranks of the Witch King's Army makes his allegiance known I'd be happy to relate our battle plans in the common speech."

:ooc: LOL! Tom, Celdrahil loves to make the relationship between himself and Madoc an icy one!  ;)

---

Fengel watched from across the circle as Celdrahil and Madoc shared barbs. He then spoke, "Fear not Madoc... I do not know this old tongue either, but these men have never kept any secrets from me. I will say in regards to your plan, Celdrahil, that we would need to do more than disguise our mounts. The Angmarim do not ride horses," he gestured, "rather those shaggy dogs over there. I call them dogs for surely they are not the noble steeds upon which we, or my people, would ride." It could be heard in the Éothraim's voice the actual contempt for the animals. The ponies of the north were short and shaggy, but very strong. They were not great in number like the beasts of Rhovanion, and so to have such a herd was to say something for the scouting party that had ridden them.

Edrahil looked to the Angmarim, "You spoke earlier of your camp being filled with the sick and the dying and the undead taking them. Did you mean this company of horsemen? This camp, or Caer Beldwyn?" The northman bit at his lip, "I spoke of my home village... the dead rose from where they had been laid." The Sindar pressed further, "If these shades are allies of the Witch-king, why was your company overtaken and routed?" The question brought all the others up to look... none had asked this. The Angmarim scout answered, "We were overtaken by the Shades... but only after we had been waylaid by horsemen of the South. My companions were slain... all save me and one other. Before we were all killed, the dusk turned darker with fell voices and a death chill that went to the bone. The South Lords were driven back by these shades and then they too retreated back north and east. My companion was no where to be found and the dead had followed the darkness. Twas but me and all of the panicked horses that milled about."

"So Camentir's Third Host was about and have engaged this nightmare," said the Éothraim. The Elf spoke next, "Per Madoc's message form Mithrandir, the dark Lord within the castle Eldanar carries upon him a talisman that would end this dead rising. It seems that our errand may require more than reconnaissance."

"Your questions were pointed and deft Edrahil, I did not think to dissect the story further."

"Well nothing more can be done here, we must push on to Eldanar. I am loath to leave my mount here, and I doubt Fengel will consent to ride the northern ponies either. Then is it to be plan A? Ride in open might to Eldanar, storm the castle, stick a sword into something that is already dead, rob it, and ride south into great glory."

The Gondorian smiled.

"I like this plan, its simple and my sword Herth-hathol has been anxious to be drawn again."

Celdrahil tossed the reigns to the Angmarim, "Your road is before you, you should get going before we change our mind and treat you as an enemy patrol upon a contested border as we should have."

To emphasize his point an inch of steel was bared from the scabbard of the warrior.

"Temperance, my friend," soothed Durgil, laying a hand upon the shoulder of Celdrahil.  "I still believe there is information to be gleaned of the road ahead regardless where our path takes us.  I submit that Madoc and I range ahead on foot while the rest ready yourselves and maybe give a little more time for planning.  I am still a scout says my training and mind, whatever the ring upon my finger may say."

"Indeed," Dirnhael said, nodding to Durgil. "While I prefer to face my enemies directly, riding openly into Barad Eldanar would be suicide. We must be discrete - whatever bauble the dark forces hold must be taken and destroyed. Stealth will be our greatest weapon."

Madoc nodded in agreement with Durgil's suggestion. "Aye, I imagine two men on foot would draw far less attention than the whole lot of us on horseback."

And, anything to get a moment's peace from that stuck up Dunadan, he added silently to himself.

"I was looking forward to thundering across the plain spear leveled, but so be it. Perhaps knowing more of what occured Fengel and I can find some more information about these shades at the place the Angmarim encountered them. Then we can mount up and follow you two."