Ectheow and Silvarin were not the only two who were restless.
Ryle turned over yet again on his cot, and sighed. Nearby, Rorin was snoring so loudly that Ryle was amazed the others around him were able to sleep at all. Perhaps they were simply as exhausted as Duinihir, who had quite literally collapsed in exhaustion before fellow ranger Durail had rolled him onto a blanket for at least SOME protection from the cold tile floor. The Men of Rohan snoozed around him, seemingly unaware of the loud rumbling coming from Ryle's Dwarven companion.
But Rorin's thunderous breathing wasn't the only thing keeping the young Ortan awake. Ryle's mind refused to rest as the rest of him screamed to do.
"He's nothing to worry about, lad," Rorin had said, describing the
Dark Lord himself.
"He has not succeeded before, and he won't now."Ryle could not help but wonder at that. Yes, Sauron had never been able to destroy His enemies. Not fully, anyway. But....
"I may not make it, or you might not, or NONE of us may live to see victory."It was these words that chilled Ryle more than any others.
The fact that they had all survived the quest in the northern realms and destroyed the Iceblade was quite miraculous. The fact that Helm's Deep had stood the test and none of Ryle's friends had fallen there or at the Fords was perhaps even more astounding. But how long could they cheat death?
Ryle had always been lucky. Rorin's timely interference was the only reason he had survived his first encounter with the Orcs of Gundabad. Several times in the northern wastes it had only been Aeglirnen's arrival with a fresh kill that had enabled him to survive long treks in the endless woodlands, long after his own food had run out. His encounters with Wargs on the quest for the Iceblade had been won more by timely interference from others or happenstance than skill of his own. How long could that last?
His thoughts were interrupted by whispering in the darkness.
"What are you doing?" said the voice. "Pippin! Pippin?" It sounded like one of the Halflings that had been dancing merrily in the hall earlier.
Ryle now clearly heard feet shuffling, and the sound of some object being lifted from the floor.
"Pippin? What, are you mad?" the voice said with some alarm.
Ryle quietly lifted his head, more than mildly interested now, and saw it was indeed the two Hobbits making the commotion. One was kneeling in front of Gandalf, who had recently returned from the hall. What he had been doing up this late, Ryle wasn't sure he wanted or needed to know. The other Hobbit was sitting on his cot, pleading with the other about...something. Ryle squinted to see the one known as Pippin moving a vase up towards Gandalf's face. What in the...?
"I just want to look at it. Just one more time," Pippin said.
‘Look at what?' Ryle wondered, straining to see.
"Put it back!" the other Hobbit demanded.
The other ignored him, snagging some object from Gandalf's cot and seemingly substituting it with the vase. What happened next changed the course of the evening significantly.
The object—a sphere of some kind—began to glow, softly at first, but then bright enough to light up the room. Pippin's illuminated smile quickly changed to a frown, then a look of pain. A deep, menacing voice whispered:
"I see you....""Pippin! Help!" the other Hobbit shouted. "Gandalf, help! Someone help him!"
Ryle sprang from his bed just as Gandalf did the same. In burst the Chieftain of the Dúnedain Ryle had seen earlier, along with the Elvish prince from Mirkwood. The ranger scooped up the object and Gandalf flung a cloak over it. "
Fool of a Took!" he exclaimed, before noticing that Pippin was not moving. He bent down to attend to him as Ryle and others gathered around them.
"Look at me," Gandalf said.
"Gandalf, forgive me," Pippin said, shaking uncontrollably.
"
Look at me," Gandalf demanded again. "What did you see?"
"A tree. There was a white tree. In a courtyard of stone." Pippin gasped. "It was dead. The city was burning."
"Minas Tirith?" Gandalf thought aloud, then turned his attention back. "Is that what you saw?"
"I saw...I saw...
him!" Pippin exclaimed.
‘The
Dark Lord,' Ryle thought with great trepidation. ‘He was...here?!'
"I can hear his voice in my head," Pippin continued.
"And what did you tell him?" Gandalf asked, his brow furrowed. "Speak!"
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"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes.
A fool, but an honest fool he remains," Gandalf said. Dwan was now breaking, and the Istar had gathered a small group in the
Golden Hall to discuss Pippin's run-in with Sauron. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli stood together near King Théoden. Pippin and Merry sat nearby, and off to the other side Curubethion listened intently. Aragorn had made sure his old friend was present for this as a mediator to the group of nine that would soon depart for Mirkwood. Curubethion, in turn, had invited Dirthon and Silvarin, both of which Gandalf had approved of.
"He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring," Gandalf continued, drawing relieved sighs from many of the gathered. "We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the palantír a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the Heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men."
"And as you know," he said, turning his gaze briefly to Curubethion before sweeping his eyes back across the rest, "his reach is much longer than the lands of Man. He fears the Elves, and he fears the Dwarves, and he fears all other Free Peoples that might oppose him. Gondor and Rohan are not the only two nations that may unite to stand against him. He seeks to
sow terror into all lands, and to spread our forces thin that we might not have the chance to rise together. With the king's blessing," he motioned to Théoden, "some of our friends will ride to Mirkwood, the woodlands of the north, which Sauron seeks to isolate from the rest of the war. He may succeed in that, but the realm of the Elves must not fall."
Curubethion nodded once. They understood.
"Even as they depart, things must be prepared here. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."
The king simply nodded, grimly.
Gandalf looked each of them in the eye as he finished. "Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith. And I won't be going alone," he said, turning his gaze towards the Hobbits.
"Uh-oh," Dirthon said softly, chuckling.
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"I don't understand," Ryle said, walking out into the crisp dawn air. "How could you sleep through that?"
"We Dwarves are known for more than our skill with our hands," Rorin replied with a wide smile. "Our sleeping habits are legendary." He winked and then turned serious. "So the poor little lad got burned or something?"
"Not exactly, but close enough," Ryle said, staring down at the bustling villagers and soldiers from the top of the
Golden Hall's stairway. "It was frightening, Rorin. It was like the
Dark Lord was right there in the room, looking around and surveying his enemies."
"Us," Rorin said. "He was looking at us."
Ryle shook his head clear of the memory and turned to humor for a brief
escape. "I imagine your snoring may have made even him think twice about sending any forces to Edoras. You may have ensured Rohan's safety singlehandedly!"
Not missing a beat, Rorin jutted his chest out proudly. "I told you, lad.
Legendary."
Suddenly, from the hall behind them, came Gandalf, followed closely by the two Hobbits.
"Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took," Gandalf said in exasperation, "you are the worst! Hurry, hurry!"
"Pe-peregrin?" Rorin said, stumbling over the name. "You all right, laddie?"
The Hobbits both gave him a funny look. "Fine, just fine, thank you," they said before hurrying on. "Where are we going?" Pippin asked his companion as they hurried to catch
the White Wizard.
"Strange little people, those Hobbits are," Rorin murmured.
"But hardy, believe you me," said Dirthon, sauntering out of the hall as well, Silvarin at his side. "Hobbits have more gumption than most in Middle-earth...yourself included, my friend."
"I...I have plenty of ‘gumption', Master Ranger," Rorin huffed. "I cannot believe you--!"
"Easy there, Rorin," Dirthon said with a laugh. "I meant no offense." He turned to watch the Hobbits as they ducked through the crowd and disappeared into the
stables. "We certainly have a part to play yet in this war, but I think the Halflings' part may be just beginning."
Rorin gave him an odd glare. "You've been talking to Curubathien too much," he snorted.
"What was that, Rorin?" Curubethion said as he strode from the hall.
"By Durin's beard, how many of you were in there?" Rorin exclaimed, turning to look at the open doors. "Who's coming out next?"
"What news?" Ryle asked the trio that had counseled with Gandalf and Théoden.
"Nothing I did not already know," Curubethion said. "Théoden and his people ride to Gondor. We may make our way there eventually as well, should it still stand." Dirthon frowned a bit, casting a wary eye to the east.
"For now," Curubethion continued, "we ride north, as planned, to Mirkwood." He gazed at Silvarin. "I would advise that you find Tuilin and Legoles. The Rohirrim are busy preparing to depart. We should do the same." He turned his eye to the north, where Mirkwood could not be seen, but the faint storm clouds above
Dol Guldur were just within view. "I fear we may have lingered too long already."
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Gandalf had already departed, taking one of the Hobbits with him. Around the heroes, the Rohirrim they had spent the better part of the last few days with were busy sharpening their swords, checking their horses, or otherwise preparing either to ride to war or say goodbye to their loved ones that were doing so.
Ryle had never felt so out of place. But he was proud of what they were about to do as well.
Aeglirnen had finally found his way to Rohan, an astounding feat, but one that Ryle had expected. The eagle had followed him wherever he had roamed for years, and while Ryle had never ventured this far south, it was no surprise at all that his companion had chosen to do the same.
How was a question probably better left unasked. He had fashioned a small attachment to his harness that allowed Aeglirnen to perch and ride along. The rest of his gear was packed and ready to go.
The others were pretty much ready to depart as well. As promised, Théoden had ensured those without horses had been provided them from the king's own
stables; while most still had the steeds they had ridden to the
Fords of Isen, not all had been fortunate enough to live through the battles there and at Helm's Deep.
The Elves, looking quite eager, had been the first to join Ryle, Tuilin and Legoles already mounted and looking longingly to the north.
The trio of rangers were similarly prepared, though only Duinihir was in the saddle, presumably to relieve his still aching limbs from standing around. His hawk and Aeglirnen had "met", meaning they had already squabbled over the nearest field mice as they passed the time by hunting.
Rorin, as usual, wanted no part of his horse, but nonetheless had his things in saddlebags, putting off actually mounting the beast until the last possible moment.
That left only Ectheow. No one had seen him since the night prior, though the king assured them he was still joining them for their quest. Curubethion was about to go seek him when he suddenly emerged from the
stables on that accursed dark steed of his.
But Beow was the only thing around the adventurous minstrel that could be described as "dark". His worn armor had been polished to a bright sheen, as had his axe Wulfsvín, sharpened as it had not been for many years. His harp had been repaired, and even his wooden shield seemed to have had the dents and gouges from its many battles mended. As he approached his friends, head held high as it had not been since before his
exile, he looked every bit the part of Rohirrim royalty riding to lead his people into battle.
"Well well well," Rorin said as the rest continued to gape. "Don't you shine up like a new gold coin?"
"Ahhhh," Ectheow said, somewhat sheepishly. "King Théoden insisted on it. Had his own armor-bearer shine everything up. I just wanted to get going, but...." He shrugged.
"Speaking of which," Silvarin said, somewhat impatiently. "Are we ready, then?"
The others nodded, taking a final look around at Edoras. Ectheow took an especially long time taking it all in. He noticed the king coming down from the
Golden Hall to meet them, with Éomer and
Grimbold by his side.
"Rohan is in your debt," Théoden said. "Ride forth with our blessing, and if all goes well, perhaps we shall meet again. Maybe even on the field of battle." He smiled, looking them each in the eye before settling on Ectheow. Having said his piece to his former minstrel already, he simply smiled, nodded, and clapped his hand to his chest, a gesture Éomer and
Grimbold followed. Visibly moved at the honorable sign, Ectheow composed himself and did the same.
"Ride," Théoden said, talking to the entire group but not taking his eyes off Ectheow. "And may the blessing of all Men go with you."
As a group, the heroes turned their horses and rode towards the gate. Ectheow stole one final glance over his shoulder, catching a last look at his king, prouder and nobler than ever, as the massive doors closed behind them.
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~~ Site 4 ~~ The Wold Plains. River.At the start of the regroup phase, the first Shadow player may exert X roaming minions to exert X unbound companions.
~~~~~~~~~~The company passed through the Entwade fords over the River Entwash (which Silvarin had called "Onodlo"), leading to the rolling plains of the Eastemnet. Normally these lands were populated by nomadic farmers and herders, but the War's effects were apparent even here, as the company rode for many days without seeing another soul. The time allowed their wounds and sores to heal, especially Duinihir, who after a few days felt better than he had in weeks. It was not until March 12th, nearly a week since departing Edoras, that they came across other beings...and none of them were expected.
The company was now in the Wold, the rolling grasslands at Rohan's far northern borders, rapidly approaching the great
Anduin River at its
North Undeep, where the River Limlight met it from Lothlórien.
Ahead were Orcs.
Silvarin and Tuilin recognized them at once—they had certainly encountered plenty of their kind before—as Orcs from Sauron's old fortress of
Dol Guldur. Their ragged armor and crude axes made that abundantly clear. But what were they doing in Rohan?
The even more unexpected forces battling them at least somewhat answered that question. Elves of Lothlórien and, of all creatures,
Ents were heavily engaged in combat with the Orcs. Ectheow was reminded of one of his flashes earlier: Ents at Isengard, tearing down Saruman's dam. Could that have some sort of connection with this...? He could only wonder.
In any event, it appeared the servants of
Dol Guldur were attempting an organized retreat, which the Elves and Ents were not exactly anxious to allow.
The heroes looked at each other, and though all greatly puzzled, no words were really necessary. With a simultaneous
battle cry, they turned their steeds towards the battle. Answers to their questions would have to wait, for now.
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~~ Challenge: Slay The Orcs! ~~The following follower is played during the fellowship phase:
•
Aeglirnen, Eagle of the North Follower
Strength +1
Resistance +1
To play, spot Ryle.
Aid – .
Each time you transfer Aeglirnen to a ranger at a forest, river, or mountain site, you may heal that ranger.
Skirmish: If bearer is a
companion, transfer Aeglirnen to your support area to exert a minion skirmishing him or her (or wound that minion if bearer is Ryle).
"‘Hello, old friend....'"And the following minions and possessions are all played during the Shadow phase:
2x
(1 bearing Dol Guldur Bow):
Mirkwood Skulker Minion • Orc
Strength: 8
Vitality: 2
Site: 7
Tracker. Hunter 3."...fell beasts came hunting...."2x
(1 bearing Mirkwood Axe):
Dol Guldur Assailant Minion • Orc
Strength: 10
Vitality: 2
Site: 7
Tracker. Fierce. Hunter 1.To play, spot a
minion.
"‘The dark things which were driven out in the year of the Dragon's fall have returned in greater numbers....'"3x
(1 bearing Mirkwood Axe, 1 bearing Dol Guldur Bow):
Dol Guldur Tracker Minion • Orc
Strength: 6
Vitality: 2
Site: 6
Tracker. To play, spot a
Orc.
While at a forest, mountain, or plains site, this minion is strength +3.
"‘...the spies of the Enemy are many.'"3x
(2 bearing Mirkwood Axe, 1 bearing Dol Guldur Bow):
Dol Guldur Servant Minion • Orc
Strength: 4
Vitality: 2
Site: 7
For each other
Orc you can spot, this minion is strength +1.
"Far within he could hear the voices of Orcs clamoring...."4x:
Mirkwood Axe Possession • Hand Weapon
Strength +2
Bearer must be a
Orc.
Skirmish: Exert bearer to make bearer
damage +1.
Often used for keeping the woods around Amon Lanc under control, the axes of Dol Guldur were just as effective at hewing their enemies.3x:
Dol Guldur Bow Possession • Ranged Weapon
To play, spot a
Orc.
Bearer must be an Orc. Bearer gains
hunter 1. You may exert bearer only once each turn.
Archery: Exert bearer to add 1 to the minion archery total.
Skirmish: Exert bearer to make bearer strength +1.
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Not quite what you expected, I'll bet. That's okay...it's not what
I originally planned, either. But this is based on an actual event during the War of the Ring. On March 11, 3019, Orcs from
Dol Guldur invaded Lorien, and were driven out by the Elves into the Wold in northern Rohan. Treebeard heard about it and led several Ents to help, and the combined forces drove the Orcs into the Anduin during the 12th, pretty much wiping them out. This was rather important, as it turns out, because the Orcs' backup plan (which they were trying to execute after the failed invasion of the Golden Wood) was to disrupt Theoden's forces and delay their trek to Gondor. Had they been successful in that, and the Rohirrim not arrived at Minas Tirith when they did...well, I think we all know how THAT would have turned out.
Anyway, since our party was traveling through that same area at about that same time anyway, I figured it made for a fun little detour, giving us a chance to meet yet MORE heroes of the war (Treebeard and a few of the Lorien Elves like Orophin and Rumil and probably Celeborn and Galadriel). Don't worry...Mirkwood is still shortly after this, and we'll be there in time to chip in on the action there.
I still need to create a DC for Rorin, though I'll probably not bother for Curubethion and I'll give AP the opportunity to make one for Dirthon, if he wants. If not, I'll do one for him as well.
I will ALSO allow the creation of one more DC at this site. I would presume you want an event, but it's up to you. Just remember that we're starting with the maneuver phase, so anything that plays only during the fellowship phase (most possessions, conditions, etc.) is out. Oh, and keep it at
or less. Nothing crazy here, guys.
Just have fun with a relatively simple Orc battle before the REAL fun begins.
If all goes well, we can get moving again before Christmas.