Restless atop the Beacon Hills

[tomcat]

Grimbeorn marched from the flooded cellar towards the stairs that led down to an opening to the outside. The others quickly followed him and soon the Company found itself back in the forest, though it was thinner atop the hills.

Morirúsë flashed the lantern about in all directions to determine if any threat presented itself, but only the tress could be seen. A fog still lay at their knees, but it did not glow with the same unearthly light as it had in the ruined courtyard. Behind them, the dark maw of the lower cellar was open and the light of the torch and lamp could no longer penetrate.

Esgalwen turned to stare into the blackness, "We left them."

Her tired, melancholy voice caused the Elf to turn, "What?"

"We left them. The poor souls imprisoned under this ruin. They were Men and Women once. They were merely passing, or maybe lost...and now they live in a nightmare that will never end."

"They could not be saved," said the Elf very matter-of-fact.

Esgalwen turned her tired, pained eyes on him and disdain was there. "No, they could not be saved," she said, "but they could have been released from this pain." Her shoulders slumped and she looked to the other two Men, "We need to camp. Where shall it be?"
With the end of this night, the current chapter has taken 35 days since the departure from Rhosgobel at the beginning of October 2952 TA.

So it is the end of the first week of November when you guys come out of the cold wells.

[Eclecticon]

Exhausted as he is, Arbogast is yet a Woodman, wise to the sensations of the great forest.  Disregarding the speech of his companions, he listens for the night sounds, smells the odors of beast and mold, and feels the slight stirrings of the air on his face. 


He's using Natural Watchfulness to get an idea of the nearby terrain.  Rolling Explore:

1d12 : 4, total 4
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 6, 1, total 8

[Eclecticon]

But the mist lies heavy on the hills, and the lingering presence of the Shadow below makes animate things disdain the area. 

"The hills are silent to me," he says.  "Nor do we have the strength between us to venture far.  Fell things may yet seek us out, and I have little doubt that they will find us if they choose to do so, for we will need a fire if we are to recover any strength this night.  I would return to the tower and build our fire within its halls.  Perhaps that, and Dwarf-wrought walls, may keep our foes at bay. 

[tomcat]

Esgalwen nodded at her friend, "It is a wise choice."

She then looked at the other two for their thoughts.

[Telcontar]

The threat seemed to be past them but the burden of the place was still heavy on Morirúsë. The taint of it seemed like another bundle loaded to an already overloaded pack.

"You turn a condemning eye to me? I see that the lesson has been lost upon you Ranger of Gondor. For it was the decision of your companions to spare the vile creature in the court yard, not mine. All the burdens of this world I suppose still rest upon the shoulders of the Noldor, to be righted and their labours ceaseless for the making of the world for the second born, to offer counsel that is ignored and then besought to make things right. Ever has it been thus."

The dark nature of the elf was coming to the fore in this. He struggled against the darkness inherent in the tower, the weight of all the horrors he had already endured, and the sword itself. The blade sought to perform its intended purpose, to be drawn, to be wielded, to slay. It pushed him to do so, its long dormancy in Lindon had made it now hunger for use. And also he saw the horror of the creature and the cells fresh in is mind. In the deepest part of him that still existed it hurt him to the core to see the twisted work of evil. Part of him knew that this was the true intent of the enemy, to hurt the Eldar in the deep recesses of their being. For unlike Men they were not in Arda, but of Arda.

Thus the competing parts of the ancient elf called upon him to act and he was unable to resist.

Morirúsë, grim of face, handed the lamp to the Ranger and grabbed a simple torch. His voice was flat and quiet and spoke to no one in particular.

"The Wraiths will not long be overawed, but perhaps this one night we will be able to shelter in the tower, but it may be best to press on through the night away from here and find a place to rest for a day or two. These hills surely have caves that are dry, for I suspect few natural beast dwell here."

"If I do not return remember that the Beast of Mirkwood is the greatest foe of your folk and these others are but the lasting stain on the land."

Morirúsë shrugged off his pack and traveling gear. Esgalwen said nothing, the two men had not heard or comprehended the initial dialogue between the two, but watched the muscles of the elf tense, his face set, and his knuckles white upon the hilt of his drawn sword. As he walked back to the hall maybe it was the torch or maybe it was something else but the red flame seemed to dance and revel upon the keen edge of the ancient sword, anticipating the violence to come. He turned his head slightly to the side and spoke back to the three.

"I will free the tormented and punish the vile, or pass myself into the place appointed for me."
 

 

[tomcat]

The Noldo started to climb a thin set of stairs that were carved in the bare stone of the hill. The Dwarves had quarried the stone here for the keep above, and so, too, had they broken the earth with their mines. The companions could see evidence of the old mineshaft entrances further below.

Esgalwen sighed and looked to her boots. She did not intend to offend her companion - weariness and pain had made her act so. She returned her gaze to Arbogast and Grimbeorn, "Go back to the main hall. Find a suitable place to rest that is defensible and set camp. We shall return shortly. I cannot let him do this alone...I must make it right."

[Telcontar]

  doug. I did not intend to go into the cellar but the hall above and then to the dungeon. The cellar and up the rope to the cells is too fey even for me. Trying to avoid the spirits but killfiddlesnytch and the prisoners.

[tomcat]

Oh, okay...although i thought your post was pretty cool in that regard! 

I was wondering how you were going to push through with a Weary Elf. Okay - i will re-tool my post for Esgalwen and we will have it go from there.

Also, just so you all have a picture of terrain. The tower ruin is above everyone, essentially three-stories of hill. The Dwarves mined for tin here and you guys are now where they quarried stone for the Keep and bore down into the earth with their passages.

[Eclecticon]

Resignedly, Arbogast follows Esgalwen and Morirúsë up hill, grateful at least to have been spared their dolorous task. 

[tomcat]

They finished the climb to the hilltop proper and reentered the courtyard where they had fist encountered the old mage.  There the party split in two - Grimbeorn and Arbogast walking into the old hall and the woman and Elf going back down the stairs.

Esgalwen could feel the ice in the air, but it was not because the passage was cold. "Forgive me, Morirúsë. I did not mean to lay any blame. In truth, it is the exhaustion and pain that made me react so to your words. But I do not claim that any responsibility is with the Elves...these are the trials of Men and Men must take account of their parts. Still, I appreciate you doing this task with me. I do not feel I have the strength of will to do it alone."

They continued down into the cold wells and there they made use of their weapons. It was bitter work, even though the poor wretches did welcome the release. Only Fyndylsnitch begged for his life and only for him did Esgalwen have no trouble in her soul for his passing.
I know that the act you are doing is essentially good for the people who have suffered so lone, but still they are troubling to mind and soul. I am requiring another Corruption test by Esgalwen and Morirúsë:

TN 18 Wisdom by PC

Esgalwen 4d 1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 4d6 : 3, 4, 3, 3, total 13

Morirúsë 2d 1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 5, 5, total 10

[tomcat]

Man, Tom! This poor Elf.

• Esgalwen passed the test with a success

• Morirúsë fails the test with a 10 result and an ; he suffers 2 Shadow point gain and is now Miserable

[Telcontar]

  the dice have a story to tell! Its what I deserve for invoking Feanor and his sons.

[Eclecticon]

Man, Tom! This poor Elf.

Cry me a river.  Arbogast picked up a permanent Shadow point when he crit-failed a corruption test in a blighted area.  All Morirúsë has to do is sit around singing elf-songs for a bit and this will just be a bad memory.  Grumble grumble, moan moan. 

[Eclecticon]

Working together quickly and wordlessly, Grimbeorn and Arbogast shiver several broken chairs and an ancient table to firewood.  When their companions re-emerge from the cold wells, weary and wan-faced, they find a well-banked fire awaiting them. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

  That's all we need, another Dark Elf.