The Hills of Evendim RPG

[Nurumaiel]

Anson cringed as the arrow buried itself in the hunter's chest and hid his eyes so he did not have to see the man topple over, his eyes staring in cold death. Gorby's arm slipped about Anson's shoulders and stayed there, silently comforting his friend.

"Perhaps," Anson murmured in as loud a voice as he dared, "it would be better if I did die on this mad quest."

"Oh no, certainly not," said Gorby briskly, trying to hide the concern that flickered in his eyes. A terrible thought hovered on the edge of his mind. Was Anson despairing?

"I've no doubt that my family will miss me," Anson continued as though he hadn't heard. "But the fact is my father won't miss me. He doesn't care for me very much, you know. I'm always so timid and weak except when it concerns my father. It isn't his fault. 'Tis mine. I argue against everything he says, even when he's right. I set a bad example for my brothers and sisters. And so maybe it would be better if I died."

"I guess it wouldn't!" Gorby cried hotly. "Indeed, Anson, your whole family loves you and sometimes you even amuse your father by your insistance on arguing with him. I've seen it before. Your mother would die of a broken heart, anyway."

Anson's eyes looked tortured. "I guess he isn't dead, but he's gone far off somewhere, and I loved my pony," he murmured. A silence fell as the three of them pondered this. They had all lost their steeds, and so in battle the first of their friends had fallen, animals though they might be.

More of their hunters drew near, and the hobbits held their breath and each other's hands, their wide, trustful eyes turned to Lira, who placed another arrow to her bow.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco overheard Thoronmir's exchange with yet another Ranger. He rolled his eyes. More big trouble.

"A Ranger who can't make a decision in battle to save his own hide, much less his party's, ought not to be leader, that's what I say. You don't seem half the leader you make yourself out to be, Master Thoronmir."

The Ranger looked at Falco, standing there with his chest thrust out. The Ranger raised his brow. This hobbit had a tongue in him!

"Oh? And who would you see as leader instead, Master Falco Boffin?"

"Someone who can keep his head about him enough to know when to call for a retreat! You were mighty lucky back there, not losing a one of us."

"You are referring to yourself as someone who can - ah - keep his head about him?"

"I don't go around blowing my own horn, unlike most big folk I know, but now that you've said it, who was it that found this place and brought all the men to save your skin? And you talk about this place as if you know it. I don't think you knew it was here at all. Look at it! You can tell by the new wood that it was built in just the last five years! What say you to that, oh wise Ranger?"

[Meneltarmacil]

"Falco," said Thoronmir, "This place was, as you said, built recently. Several Rangers, including Awyrgan and myself, helped to establish it about five or six years ago as part of a resettlement project for the North Kingdom, so it really hasn't been around that long. I figured that it had been destroyed by our enemies when they first came here, so I didn't bother looking for it. As for the battle, we were all horsed at first, so we did have the advantage of speed. When we began to lose that advantage, I called the retreat. I stayed with the others to try and protect them until everybody had gotten in one place. My horse fell on me, but I did manage to get back up and continue the fight. We were going to charge straight through at the weakest point in their lines once everybody was together. I stayed where I was mostly because I was waiting for you and didn't want anybody to get separated from the group. I don't doubt your courage in handling the situation like you did, and I think you did a great job of it. However, I would appreciate it if you had given me some indication of where you were during all that time we were waiting for you."

[Imladris]

Gorby

My heart sank to my toes and seeped out of my feet and was lost to the cold ground of the base. The food didn’t look as appealing as it should have, considering how hungry I was. I sighed. I didn’t want to go on and look for Eodwine; I didn’t want to stumble about in the dank and cold; I didn’t want to hear Falco complain and grumble and say how low everybody was when he was the lowest; I didn’t want to practice everything I learned from Meriadoc and Peregrin about honour and nobility; I just wanted to have a decent smoke (I had lost my match and pipe and tobacco long ago), feel the fire warm my wooly feet, and the prospect of a warm bed awaiting me. I sighed again and shook my head. But I couldn’t just let a man die out there…I couldn’t with live myself if I turned my back on him now. Of course, he was probably a corpse by now…but that didn’t matter. He seemed like a brave and honest man, thus he deserved a decent burial.

I wandered my way to Anson -- and stopped. He had fallen asleep on the floor. His face was wan and taught, as if he was having a wearisome battle within himself. I suddenly knew that he wanted to go back and that he had his family, his siblings, to take care of. He had come to accompany me, and what had it gained him? A lost pony and heartache.

I sat down next to him and waited for him to wake up, which the clatter of plates, the laughs of men, and the shouting of Falco all did in good time. “You don’t have to go along with me,” I told him as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. I looked at him hard, and smiled.

I glanced up and saw Lira gliding towards us. She had taken her bandage off, letting the purplish slash dry out so that it could heal properly. It was going to leave a fine scar I thought with some fascination. It really was too bad that I hadn’t gain such a fine one to show off before my hobbit friends. I shrugged. “What do you want to do, Lira?” I asked.

She crouched to the floor and gazed at me. Her wide blue eyes seemed to be glazed with unshed tears, and her face was paler than usual. Her hair was limp and uncombed. “It might be better to go back to Bree.”

My jaw dropped. This was coming from an elf. She averted her gaze from me to Anson and said, “More people will die if we continue to Eodwine who was taken back to this Master. He might be already dead.”

“So you want to let one die, to let the others live?” Anson asked. Lira nodded, and now I was confused. Everything had seemed so clear-cut before she had answered with the typical deepness of the elves.

[littlemanpoet]

"A fancy speech for one who ain't. And I'll make sure to pass a message through the enemy next time they separate us. Here, brigand, kindly tell Thoronmir that I can't get to him right now since I'm about to go find your camp and raid it and storm out here with sixty of your prisoners! I think Mister Brigand would be most happy to relay such a message."

"Falco!" Falowik walked up to him. "Your fearlessness is not in doubt, but the civility of your tongue is. Be careful before these Men decide to gag you!"

The Men laughed. Falco reddened in anger.

"They'll find me more trouble if they try."

Falowik raised a hand. "Peace, Falco! I hope now that you doubt me less, knowing that Eodwine does exist, and is in danger. I hope also that you will continue with us. We would all do well to have your courage and resourcefulness with us."

"Well....." Falco kicked at some dust on the floor. "I suppose I could come along if you insist."

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen tended to her own wounds by the fire. Fourtunately, they didn't go very deep and weren't that bad.

'...I suppose I could come along if you insist,' Finëwen heard Falco say. They had been talking, but she didn't really pay attention to most of what they were saying. She assumed herself that she would go... but the thought had never really occurred to her before now. She could always go along with the hobbits as far as she could. But then again, what was there for her after this. Her life after the finding Eodwine was nothing, if they ever found him at all.

As she thought about that, she wondered why Eodwine had left his men in the first place. It doesn't seem like the right thing to do. If she herself was in that position, she surely would have never left her own men. He must have feared for his life, Finëwen assumed. But then again, she did not have much of a life to loose, maybe he had.

Shrugging off that thought, Finëwen watched the flames swaying back and forth. She had not talked to anyone much on the trip, and she wondered if she ever would. She glanced around at the others and looked at the few who had tried to start up conversation. Falco seemed as if he was set on continuing with the others now. After a bit, Finëwen decided she would also. After all, there was not much left after this for her.

She looked around at the men who were prisoners eating merrily. One of them noticed her sitting by herself and walked over. He offered her some meat and she accepted with a thank you and he asked her to come join them. Finëwen did and sat down among a few men who all ate and talked amongst themselves. She nibbled at the meat and listened to their conversation.

[Esgallhugwen]

A long silence seemed to blacken their camp, as everyone realized that they must either continue on or head back, the parting would be bitter. She picked up the white wolf cub and held on to him gently,

I will have to say farewell to you also little one

Esgallhugwen looked over at the prisoner who still sat beside her, "what be your name then, it would be best to know it since you're one of the sixty or so that may be accompanying us on this mission". He looked up at her and smiled "my name is Kildirak, I'm a ranger".

She nodded "Kildirak, if it doesn't pain you will you walk with me to the two hobbits and Lira, it isn't far" she stood up and gave him her hand. They walked over casually and sat next to Lira, Eswen's smile at the two Hobbits was happy but filled with the sadness that only years of knowledge could bring to the elves.

"Mellon" she spoke softly to Lira "I know you will not go any farther and that you wish to turn back, I can see it in your eyes and the thought pains me to know that you will go, so I wish for you to take Nimromen with you back to Bree or the Shire if you plan on returning there, the path that lays ahead of me is too dangerous for him to go on; but do not be despair at our parting when the time comes which is not as far away as we should like, we will see one another again"

Esgallhugwen put her hand on Lira's shoulder and smiled at her despite her woe.

[littlemanpoet]

"What is your name?" Thoronmir asked.

"I am called Furman Hunter."

"You speak of a secret way. Why should we trust you?"

"I will tell you my story. Do with it what you will. I used to live outside of Bree. I was on one of my hunts when I struck upon these others. We got to talking, this was before the Master had started his thing, and they said they'd heard there was good wages to be guards for a lordling up in the Hills. I took up with them. We guarded and what not, but year by year the things we were to do got worse and worse and I never liked it, but there was no way out or be killed, so I made sure to survive. That's my crime. And now you have come and I am freed of my service, no matter what you decide to do with me. I have no love for the Master or his ways. If I can help you to find a way to bring back your friend, and we all come out alive, I will say good-bye to all the wages and return to my simple life of hunting."

Falco spoke up. "I trust him no more than I do this Master he speaks of."

Falowik held his peace. He felt that Falco had a point, but it might be the best or only way they might find. And with Eodwine captured, this lancing was probably in his future. They were running out of time.

"Nevertheless," said Thoronmir, "this Furman will serve as our captive scout and we shall see if things are as he claims. Tell us about this secret way, first."

Furman told them the way, which had to do with tunnels for waste that went unguarded.

Falco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Would that we had a ring of invisibility without a cursed Dark Lord the other side of it," he mumbled.

"We shall leave at dawn," said Thoronmir.

[Imladris]

I looked hard at Lira…clear liquid seemed to be seeping out of her wound and it looked more reddish. My stomach churned…was it infected? It had to be…a wound never looked so sick before. In fact, Lira didn’t look well at all. Her blue eyes were pale and cloudy, dark shadows gathered under her eyes, her face was white, her shoulders sagged. She looked lifeless -- hopeless. I wondered if that was why she wanted to go back to Bree…to get away from the death of everything. In a way, I couldn’t blame her. “I want to go,” I repeated, darting a defiant glance at Lira. For some reason, I was sure she would want me to stay here being useless. I didn’t know a thing about healing and I knew I’d be in the way.

“No, you‘re not,” Lira snapped.

I frowned at her. I had never before heard an elf snap. Frankly, I didn’t think the creatures were capable of it.

“Yet another reason for me to go,” I said. “He’s a hobbit going with many men. And even though he’s not the most pleasant hobbit to be around with, it wouldn’t be fair leaving him alone.”

“You’d be leaving Anson as well,” she returned. I flushed. Yes, I would be. It would be like a slap in the face not to stay with him. Then we could talk over old times, have a somewhat decent pipe, laugh with the men. I bit my lips. Besides, I’d only be in the way. Nothing much I could do to save Eodwine. I giggled. I could help Eodwine like I had helped Lira. I tittered again. “Maybe I should stay here,” I said. Definitely better than tramping through the wilds.

[Lumiel]

The prisoners, joyous as they had been to escape their hell, had settled down somewhat being still weakened from want of food. They ate in a merry mood, looking forward to a promised vengenance for the wrongs done unto them. And their group too, had lived through the night. Lumiel had only a few bumps and bruises, her worst hurt being a gash across her lower back which seemed to be healing well.

Among the others, the wounds seemed also to be of a minor nature, with the exception of a few. Uien was quiet, even more so than usual. Her heart, melancholy as it always seemed to be, was a shrouded mystery to Lumiel's eyes. Lira had a few troublesome wounds, and she seemed weary and heartsick of the whole business. But Lumiel's heart went out most of all to Gorby and Anson. They had fought bravely, and their valour had helped save them all. Yet the journey was beginning to wear on them and they were somber and silent, keeping to each other's company and to Lira.

For herself, Lumiel had not spoken much to the others, focusing only on coming to grips with the events and gained information of the past few hours. She kept guard over the captives, who seemed sullen and tight-lipped. Lumiel did not speak to them but merely watched, and saw to their needs. She did not feel an anger towards them, though if she had none would have faulted her. Some were silent in stubborn refusal to believe their defeat, yet others seemed almost repentive, relieved for it to be over.

Bringing water to one of the prisoners, the man spoke to her, the first of this group to do so. "Lady Elf..." he began quietly, taking the cup of water in his bound hands. "I...I am sorry for what I have...done." he spoke haltingly, as though struggling to control his thoughts and his voice. "It didn't start like...this. I never thought...that..it would be so...vile." he avoided her gaze. "Will you...forgive me?" he asked finally, raising his sad eyes to meet hers, sincerity in his face.

"Forgiveness for your trespasses is not mine to give..." she answered, staring at him in amazement and pity. Could he actually mean it? Did he want to repent? The man seemed to grow smaller at her words and his eyes fell to the ground once more. "But if it is forgiveness that you seek, you must seek it out yourself. Right what you have done, and forgiveness will come." she finished. She watched him a moment more. There seemed to be something different about this man. She waited, seeing if he would say anything more, but he remained silent.

She got up and began to walk away when he called out to her. "Wait! M'lady...I can help you. You are looking for the one we call Master, no?" his eyes were alight and he seemed almost to tremble. Those around him glared, either in amazement, hope, or hatred but they kept their tongues. He seemed oblivious to his companions. "I know of a way into his hold...I know where he is!" he exclaimed frantically. A few of the men around him looked prepared to strangle him but Lumiel was quickly at his side, glancing dangerously to the others, daring them to try and hurt him.

"Will you tell me the way?" she asked calmly of him, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Yes...if it will end the evil I was a part of." He begged of her to release him, but she would not. She did though, separate him from the main group of the captives and he told her his story and of what he knew.

"Furman Hunter, you may be forgiven yet." she said to him in a strong but soft voice. She stood and turned to find Thoronmir, he needed to hear this. Furman called after her, asking her name. "Lumiel. Thank you Furman." she said with a smile before hurrying away. She told Thoronmir of the information and he questioned Furman himself. Falco, his usual self, doubted him. Though he had reason to. Lumiel couldn't help but feel he was telling the truth, she trusted him.

Finally, Thoronmir made a decision. "We shall leave at dawn."

A thought came to Lumiel. Though she trusted him, even though the others did not, someone would have to watch him. She went to Thoronmir and spoke directly to him. "Someone must watch him, we cannot be entirely sure of him yet, though I think he is sincere." she paused. "I will guard him as we travel, if you don't mind." She wanted to get to know this man better, understand him. To see if he was true.

[littlemanpoet]

The party started at dawn, as they had planned.

Thoronmir and his Ranger friends took the lead, followed by Lumiel and the prisoner, Furman. Behind them rode Eswen, Finëwen, and Lira. Falowik and Falco took up the rearguard. It felt strange to both Falowik and Falco to ride together, but with the other hobbits and Uien gone, the natural companions of the two, and Thoronmir occupied with his friends, they fell into stride next to each other, and did not seem to mind each other's company overmuch.

It was a bright day, and the wind was from the northwest, cool and crisp. Their spirits were high and they were will provisioned for a week's traveling, which Furman assured them was much longer than they needed. Thoronmir wished to take no chances with their stock, however.

All through the morning they passed ripe fields of grain: rye, wheat, and barley; and on hills not covered by grain were cattle grazing. Such a bucolic setting was a surprise to them all, but even an evil Master styling himself the new dark lord needed to feed his troops.

Furman was quiet all through the day, and promised to speak more of what he knew when they set up camp.

[littlemanpoet]

It was dark in the hills, and they made their camp under the eaves of a big oak tree. Furman had made no sign of being ready to flee, and had been quite friendly to Lumiel and the others. A great weight seemed to have been lifted from him, and he smiled often. But now his face was dour as the others listened to him.

"I have not heard as much as I would like, and cannot tell you all that might be said, but I tell you what I know. The Master's keep is on the northern edge of the Hills of Evendim. It is new built and not many hands could be spared to the task, so it is not a great structure. It has a thick wall and is four square, and stands on the northernmost hill of Evendim. Its stones and mortar are black, whether painted or mined so, I know not. The wall rises twenty feet, is eighteen inches thick, and extends one hundred feet from corner to corner. Behind the wall is the keep itself, a humble building yet, only a few years old, two stories tall. I am told that it is as any lord's castle, serving as home, army barracks, and seat of power; but this one serves in one way more: as a temple. I have not seen the sanctuary myself, but I have heard that it is black, and stained crimson with the blood of many human victims. The Master drains the blood from his victims and collects it in vats, kept cool below ground. He drinks one goblet fresh when the victims are leeched and killed."

At this Furman broke off, and his eyes grew haunted. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

"They say that he drinks blood to extend his life, that he is thousands of years old already."
Furman looked from eye to eye. "I believe it. I have never seen him, but from what is said, I do not doubt that this new dark lord is a sorcerer, and that he does evil magics to live ever longer, and that he enslaves the ghosts of his victims, and speaks with other dead that should not be roused, and with fell dark spirits."

Thoronmir spoke. "Where is he from, Furman? Who is he?"

"I know not his name, but I have heard just two things as to where he is from. Maybe you can make more of it than I. He is said to have come from the east to here, by way of the northern waste, and that he had come from the south before that, having turned his corner, so to speak, north and east of the Iron Hills. A long trek he must have made, east of the sea of Rhun. Where before then, I do not know. But there is the other thing. They say that he was a lieutenant of Mordor. What that may mean, I cannot say, for I have been among the hills for many a year. They say that he was injured in his body in a great quake, and barely escaped with his life, would that he had not, for he is evil. There. I have told you all I know about that. All that remains to tell is the way into his keep, which I can best tell you by showing it to you when we get there."

[Imladris]

Lira listened to Furman speak to Falowik of this master. “They say that he drinks blood to extend his life, that he is thousands of years old already." She only knew of one person who drank blood: Thuringwethil, the Woman of Secret Shadow. But Furman referred to this master as he .

Lira frowned. Whether Thuringwethil had perished in the destruction of Sauron’s Isle was unknown -- could she have survived? She wondered if Thuringwethil could enslave the ghosts of victims and speak with fell spirits. She shuddered. Turning to Furman, she asked, “Are you sure this master is a he?”

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen listened closely to Lira's words "are you sure that the Master is a he?". It was a good question the master could be anyone, so much evil failed to pass when Sauron was destroyed.

She sighed and leaned up against the large oak tree stroking Morsereg's broad neck, she set down her saddle bags filled with provisions and some medical supplies. Eswen cautioned Kildirak to stay behind, he was in no shape to go on, he needed the healing attention of Uien.

The stillness in the air was threatening, the fields and cows they had passed earlier on were misleading signs of the danger that awaited them.

Who knows if this Master is already awaiting us, ready to take our blood without second thought, to take our lives. I will not go quietly.

Esgallhugwen's face become firm and resolute but did not lose any of its beauty, she looked above, black clouds were coming in. It would start raining soon, and it would not rain lightly.