The Hills of Evendim RPG

[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.

[littlemanpoet]

"I do not know if the Master is a he. The Master has only been spoken of as a he, but maybe it is a woman."

Furman gave Lira a look of undinted curiosity.

"If it were a woman, who would you think her to be?"

[Imladris]

Lira considered, wondering if she should even mention her concerns. She did not know much about vampires…was almost completely ignorant of them. The sky growled with angry thunder and long fingers of lightening clutched at the far mountain tops. It began to rain.

Swallowing, Lira said, “I believe that this master might be a vampire named Thuringwethil, Woman of Shadow. It was rumored that she was destroyed along with Sauron’s Isle, but her death was never confirmed.” Lira paused, and continued. “She was the fell bat of Melkor, his messenger. She had iron claws as well. Vampires are blood suckers, but whether she would drink it to extend her life I know not.”

Lira fell silent, chewing on her words. Not much was known about Thuringwethil. How could she still be alive?

[Esgallhugwen]

The roar of thunder fell on the company like an anvil, lightning flashed and for a few precious seconds made everthing visible before it fell back into darkness. Lira spoke up against the thunder.

“I believe that this master might be a vampire named Thuringwethil, Woman of Shadow. It was rumored that she was destroyed along with Sauron’s Isle, but her death was never confirmed.” Lira paused, and continued. “She was the fell bat of Melkor, his messenger. She had iron claws as well. Vampires are blood suckers, but whether she would drink it to extend her life I know not.”

Vampires were rare and therefore Esgallhugwen knew little of them; a flash flew across their heads, "they are difficult, if not impossible to kill" her words were barely audible over the rumbling above them. If her death was never confirmed then it was all too possible that Thuringwethil was yet alive.

Do not single her out as the only probable candidate for the Master, there are others, one is bad enough without worrying about possible others. She looked at Furman "is that all you can tell us?".

Esgallhugwen glanced around their campsite, the large tree she was under no longer could hold up the heavy rain fall, water dripped across her face looking like tears. "There won't be a fire tonight", she returned her gaze to Furman and awaited his answer.

[Imladris]

I shuddered as I heard the snarling noise. It seemed to choke me with invisible fingers, drinking my strength away. As soon as my eyes became adjusted to the dark, I saw a lank wolf eyeing us with golden orbs. Spit dripped from his white fangs, his fur was stiff on his neck. He looked evil. Felt evil. I shuddered again, wishing to go back.

That was when I noticed that the tunnel ended behind the dog -- or at least I assumed so. Bags were piled behind the wolf and I saw a glint of gold. I gnawed my lip, considerring. If there was gold in those bags, what else would be in there? Clues as to the master was? A pip and some tobacco, I thought with yearning. I nodded and said, "We should kill him and look at the bags. We have you with us," I said, just now noticing the newcomer as a ragged ranger. "You could kill him easily, could you not?"

He nodded and I turned to Anson. "We have a ranger with us," I said with a smile. "He'll help us kill it -- or we'll help him kill it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lira and the others

Thoronmir now neared the end of the pipe. He stopped, made sure that everyone was ready, and, with a gesture of his hand, burst from the pipe, sword drawn. Lira crouched waiting to spring as soon as Furman had disappeared from the pipe. It reminded her of a running race she had often played when she was young...

Furman began to wiggle himself and she scrambled forward after him. She slid from the pipe onto a wooden floor and, drawing her knife, she climbed to her feet and glanced quickly around, looking for the enemy. She saw Furman grappling a guard, and a guard pulling a blade on Falowik.

She heard a soft step behind her and whirling around, she saw another guard lunge at her with a heavy sword. She parried it with her dagger and dodged underneath his arm, driving her knife into his belly.

[littlemanpoet]

There were no more guards in the dungeon. Their luck held, for the dungeon itself was walled off from the rest of the keep with thick walls, and was below the main floor. Better yet, there was a ring of keys at the belt of one of the guards. The prisoners did not speak, but looked at their saviors eagerly, hoping for release. None of them looked in great health, but none were starving either; the Master needed them leechable.

Thoronmir handed the keys to Falowik, who unlocked the prisoners, asking any if they knew what lay before them. It occurred to Falowik that it might have been well to have kept one of the guards alive, but there was not surety that they could keep him quiet. They would have to find their way.

Thoronmir bade the freed men to escape down the pipe. They watched them clamber in one by one: eight in all, out of ten cells; two had been empty.

Eodwine had not been among them.

Thoronmir unlocked the heavy wooden door to the dungeon and looked both ways before proceeding.

Falco tugged on Thoronmir's shirt. "Let me scout ahead!" he whispered. Thoronmir nodded and the hobbit scurried into the darkness.

***

Falco returned after perhaps five minutes. "Up one flight of stairs, and there are two guards at the main door to the left, and two more by another door to the right, in front of some fancy little house inside the larger house. It's like this Furman said! It must be this Master's temple."

"Are there no more guards than that?" Thoronmir asked.

Falco shook his head. "Far as I can make out, they're all asleep in barracks. Locked in from the outside, if the nearest is any clue to that!"

Falowik had been listening. "So even his own guards are his prisoners."

"Aye," said Thoronmir. "We still have the advantage of surprise, due in large measure to the pounding of the rain above. Lumiel, Awyrgan and Furman, attack the guards at the main door. Join Falowik and Eswen, and me at the temple when you have finished there. Lira, Finëwen and Falco, search out the rest of this keep and make sure that none come upon us unawares. When you have finished, join us. Now to it!"

[Meneltarmacil]

Thoronmir, Falowik, and Eswen proceeded to an archway directly across from the temple doors. They could see the two guards in front clearly, but the guards couldn't see them.

"Eswen, take your bow and aim for the guard on the left. I'll take the one on the right," Thoronmir whispered hoarsely. They drew their bows and fired. The guards fell, not knowing what had happened. "Wait here, I'm going to check something," said the Ranger. Thoronmir proceeded from the archway to the courtyard surrounding the temple to scout the area, ducking low to avoid detection. He paused and looked upward as he crept around. He smiled as he saw what he was looking for. The temple's roof was made of wood, not stone, so it wouldn't be that hard for somebody to break through. A low wall ran around the edge of it, perfect for a grappling hook and rope. He dashed back to the archway, drew a good length of rope out of his pack and tied a hook to it, then waited for the others. He would tell them of his plan when they had all arrived.