The Great Golden Hoard Game Thread

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Night 7 has now ended. Day 8 has begun, you have 36 hours.

Please PM your direction to Valier

Map and Day 7 winner will be up as soon as possible

[Valier]

The daily winner is.....A tie again!!!! Kafkalina and Thin-gloomy will move twice as far for today only.

All players....You are shooting for the red square on the map, not the yellow one. That is just a mistake I cannot seem to fix

[Valesse]

(This one is going to be long!)

The ent has passed her without notice, and having had a cold night sleep the Arnorian rose to an early start which led her away from the mountains (where she was tempted to eat snow) and into the hills. Noticing her water to be on the low side, Valesseka cursed not filling up at the Anduin. Fortunately, in sight was another stream which looked to be fresh and good for replentishing her supply. Travelling to it, however, was rough, and even though she was away from the icy blasts of the mountains Valesseka kept herself bundled up warm. Almost to the stream she heard a noise which sounded very foreign to her, looking to see what it was, her breath caught up in her throat. Orcs. And not just a few, either...

As silently as she could, the girl backed away until she felt safe enough to run for her life. Hide... got to find a place to hide. I'm not getting in the middle of any orkish business. Forgetting the stream, Valesseka came across Amon Sul. She had heard about it from travellers as it had been the subject to many debates between the three portions of Arnor. At the moment, the fortress looked fairly war-torn, apparently recently sacked and still in the midst of rebuilding. It... must have been those orcs... They ravaged it last night I guess... It should be safe.

Catiously Valesseka arrived, but not without notice. Her glittering brooch amidst the unwashed carnage and debris drew eyes toward her, and it wasn't long at all before one of the men approached her.

"You... You're just in time. Our captain has fallen to the orc band, and..." he choked up, clearly he was close to the man, "We need a commander or the hill will fall."
"But..." Valesseka looked dreadfully confused, "I can't command a fortress."
"Of course you can! You are a noble man of Arnor! And if you don't... all will be lost!"
Valesseka glared daggers at the rather dramatic officer who was fortunate enough not to catch it. I am a woman of Arnor. Woman! And where does he get off that I'm nobility? Hastening her garbs she cleared her throat to announce that she was not who ever it was they were expecting, but was stopped short by a battered sword being thrust at her. The officer looked the girl in the eyes, clearly intending that she receive it "If you don't, the tower will fall, my lord."

Whining ever so slightly, Valesseka wrapped her hand around the hilt. It was suprisingly heavy, but for appearances she kept it held high. I'm a beautiful woman, why can't they see that? The officer smiled lightly and hurried away. This confused Valesseka even further, as she was not sure at this point where to go, what to do, or what had just happened exactly. The orcs attacked them last night, I know that... why do they want a leader so desperately, then? And why did he call me -lord-!? It hit her. The orc band she had seen on her way to Amon Sul were going to strike again tonight. With a terrible shudder she sat down. "Too many orcs..." she mumbled numbly.

A voice cut in "seventy-five." Valesseka looked over at the guard. He was also sitting, but in contrast to her and the rest of the guards looked rather calm. "And now there are only fifty of us." He turned to Valesseka with a piteous look "What do you think the Halls of Mandos look like?"

Okaaay, thats the end of that conversation. Gracefully she shook her head and stood, manuvering through the rubble and carcasses. Valesseka found the officer again, he had collected the other remaining officers and for a long while the men stood staring at the Arnorian girl. "...Well?" She said at length, before each man launched into his own battle plan. Apparently the orcs had been attacking in waves for the last few nights, and though the men have been getting better and better at defending their tower from this sort of strategy, the captain had fallen to an orkish arrow.

"If that guard knew what he was talking about... the numbers, that is, we're out numbered by..." She imagined counting vegitables "twenty-five. It's possible to delete their presence but..." There was a very distant rumbling sound, and Valesseka looked around in a panic, but here there could be no avalanche. The rumble could only mean one thing: the orc army was on the move toward Weathertop Hill. Straightening up, Valesseka shouted commands, acting more on her own protection than for the tower's. "You," She pointed at the first officer, "figure out how they are advancing toward us. Everyone else inform the men that they should be prepared. Light torches around this place... we want to see them if they break in."

The day was nearing dusk, and the orcs were arriving. First the archers started showering the tower with arrows. Somewhat safely behind a large barrier, Valesseka announced that her men should return fire. Fifteen or so orcs fell, and only eight of her's. Once she had calculated this, however, the orcs were at the wall, swinging and snarlling and making all sorts of terrible noises. "Keep the doors blocked in! I don't care ho-" *clack!*

Valesseka turned around and saw two funny little extrusions over the stone she was hiding behind, looking over the edge she squeaked. A ladder! The first officer acted instantly in pushing it over which proceeded in destroying the orcs on it. The orcs had brought five ladders in each group that marched toward Amon Sul, along with five archers each. She instructed that her archers focus on the orkish archers, and let the handmen take care of whatever clambered over the walls.

The door broke with a resounding clamour, and the calamity that followed became the end of serveral of her men. Swept into the battle, Valesseka ran toward the door, shouting furiously that at least twenty should follow her and help retake the passage. Her archers aimmed for the mass of orcs collected at the enterance, and successfully eliminated a fair number of invaders. However the strength of the door did not hold, and like a thin sheet of wood, snapped in half allowing a trickle of orcs inside. Salavating with bloodthirst, the orcs swung their swords sloppily compared to their previous war-formality in the advancing on the fortress.

A terrible noise came from behind her, one of the ladders remained upright long enough for a smaller orc to penetrate the defenses. With a nasty smirk at Valesseka's terrified face, it thrust it's sword at her, only to miss (Ladies being thinner in build) her flesh entirely. Pulling back his weapon, the girl swung hers, slapping, rather than cutting, his face with the blade. Nevertheless it was effective. Valesseka took a moment to check to see if he were actually dead or not before barking orders to maintain the tower walls better. The orcs were not quite as successful as the humans tonight, and for the first time in a long time, the humans were finally out numbering them.

"You two, collect these...arrows and bring it up the the archers." She pointed at a few bodies. She was stunned at her behavior. She didn't want to be in a battle, commanding it was out of the question, and yet here she was. The battle raged on, and the orcs ran out of archers, so too her archers ran out of arrows. Over the course of the battle Valesseka commensed in her own spars only a few times, most incurring injuries. I'm not built for battle. she'd repeat to herself over and over. I'm not a lord of Arnor. I'm a girl. I'm a beautiful girl. Deep inside, she felt hurt that the orcs didn't even seem to notice that.

Around midnight the carnage had ended. The orcs retreated with a quarter of their original band, and the Weathertop guards mantained half of their starting number. It was a fair enough advantage that the orcs would not soon attempt another raid, and that was comfort enough for Valesseka.

Wincing, she used the last of her athelas on her wounds, and the last of her water. In thanks for 'his' contribution the men of the tower replentished her supplies and offered housing for the night. She wasn't soon to pass that by, even if they were obviously blind to her gorgeous visage.

[Glirdan]

It was a very bad day, full of rain since late the night before. Glirdingo was shivering with cold, staring up at the Misty Mountains. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before (he didn't trust that Man who was camping near him). "Well, this will probably be the hardest part of my journey," he thought to himself bitterly, thinking about the Orcs that lived in Mount Gundabad a shortway off as well as in the Misty Mountains themselves.

He started his treck towards the moutnains, the rain pouring down on him and soaking him to the bone, the wind on his skin feeling like icy blades cutting into him. He continued on and on, tirelessly. Finally, it was around midday (though he couldn't tell because there was no sun) when he began to feel the pains of exhaustion. He was at the base of the Mountains now. He stopped for a quick break before continuing on.

He walked all day, and almost into the night before he was really exhausted and had to stop. He searched the base of the Mountains, hoping to find a cave to rest in for the night. "Aha!" he cried delightedly as his keen, Elven eyes spotted a cave in the base of the Mountains.

He made his way wearliy to the cave at the base of the Mountains. When he reached it, he ran inside and slumped to the ground. He got changed into his (semi) dry clothes which he took out from his bag.

He had fallen asleep for what felt like a few minutes before he heard something scurrying around in the cave. He opened his eyes and grabbed his short sword and stood up while crying "Who goes there!" He heard something behind him before everything went black.

He woke up sometime later with a sharp pain in the back of his head. He put his hand up to where he had been hit and touched it gently. "Ow!" he cried sharply. Whatever (or whoever) had hit him, hit him pretty hard. He sat up slowly and took in his surroudings. He was in some sort of cell. There was a nothing in the cell, not even a small cot to lay down on and his possessions were nowhere to be found.

He rose to his feet slowly and crossed to the cell doors and peered out. He saw his sack a short way down the passage. "Hello!?" he called out. "Hellooooo!?"

"Quiet you!" a sharp, deep voice said to his left. There, sitting in front of him, was an Orc. "Quiet, or I'll stick you like a bug without the Chief's permission. Besides, you're just going to get done in tomorrow anyway!! Hawhawhaw!!" he laughed crudely.

With that, Glirdingo backed off to the back of the cell and sat down. He was a little frightened. The cave he must have fell asleep in wasn't a cave at all. It was an entrance to Mount Gundabad! He moaned as this realization dawned upon him.

The guard got to his feet and walked down the passage, just out of sight. "Well, now that he's gone, I can start thinking of a way to get out here," he thought desperately. "I need to get out, before tomorrow comes or I'm going to be a dead Elf!"

He looked around the cave once more to see if there was anything he could use to help him escape. There was absolutely nothing. Once again, he rose to his feet and crossed the cell to the cell doors. He peered around outside his cell to see if there was something he could use to escape.

As luck would have it, the Orc had convieniently forgotten the keys to the cell door which were convieniently already placed in the lock. "Well, this is convienient!"

He reached his hand through the bars, grabbed the key and turned it carefully. He heard a small click and withdrew his hand. He pushed gently on the door and it swung open quietly (the locks were (convieniently) oiled just that day).

He tiptoed down the passage to where his belongings were. He searched his pack and noticed that everything was unharmed. "I kind of figured," he thought grimly. "Orcs wouldn't like Lembas bread and my canteen is empty. They wouldn't see the usefulness of this rope. As for my weapons..." he looked around and noticed that they were locked up beside his cell down the passage. "Again, that's convienient. How stupid could you be to put someone's weapons right next to their cell," he thought happily. He grabbed the keys and tired that for the lock for his weapons. "And how stupid could someone be to make the same lock for a cell and use the same key," he laughed inside.

He grabbed his bow and arrows and slung it on his back. He took his short sword and walked slowly down the passage. He saw the guard up ahead, his back turned to him. "Oh my, these Orcs are really quite stupid..." he thought sadly.

He walked up and slashed the orc who fell down dead instantly. He continued to walk down the passage. It took him quite some time, but with luck, he found his way out and ran into no one. "Hmmm, that was too easy..." he thought to himself. It was dark out and the rain had finally stopped. "I need to get away from here and fast," he thought desperately. And with that, he ran towards the Mountains as fast as he could towards the Misty Mountains.

[Gil-Galad]

Galadster looked around, he was in a dark damp cell with a major headache, yet he felt different...

ah... what the...where am i?

Galadster looked around again, he found a dull metal bar i nteh ground and a couple of small rocks, he heard an orc guard outside cough

orcs... bloody orcs...

galadster took the metal bar and began banging the bars...

"stop that racket!"

galadster kept banging

"i said stop it!"

Galadster kept cosntantly banging the bar, till the orc guard came into the room and kicked him down through the bar

"i told you to stop it!"

no no, you can't find it!

"what? can't find what?"

you know the treasure here...bah i'm not suppose to tell you where this treasure is...

Galadster put it his hands on the ground as if to cover it, then the orc guard opened the cell and kicked galadster away

"if there is treasure it is mine"

the orc began to dig where Galadster had covered, then Galadster kickly punched the orcs jugular area, and the orc collapsed, trying to breath, but it couldn't.

Galadster then took the orcs sword and ran out, he looked around, he heard talking about these items, galadster went around and looked around the corner, there was 4 orcs, 1 in the back sleeping on a barrel againest the wall, three others going through Galadsters belongings, Galadster walked backwards and looked around another corner, it was an exit to the outside. Galadquickly ran back to the room with the orcs, took the orc sword he stole from the guard, and threw it at the sleepin orc, the 3 orcs turned to look at the now dead sleeper and wonder what happened, then Galadster ran in and grabed his scimitar that was on the table, he decapitated one of the orcs head when the other 2 turned around and tried to reach for their sowrds, but Galadster quickly cut off their arms and legs, leaving them there to bleed.

well that was interesting...

galadster quickly gathered all his belongings, including a full canteen of water from the orcs and he headed out, he began to head towards Arnor once again, but then a stone fell from the cave and hit him on the head

woah... what happened? did i go all super-crazy mode back then? nah... must have been a dream...

was it a dream? Who built the pyramids? find out next episode on THE ADVENTURES OF GALADSTER

[Nogrod]

It was so early in the morning that it was still dark as Novgorod left the little town. He had decided to press on with the quest. Against the inn-keeper’s counsel Novgorod had decided to continue straight ahead and take a shortcut through the hilly grassland the locals called Barrow Downs. Evil spirits! Bah! Old wifes stories to keep the young from playing far away from home, lunacies of the drunkards told in hope of a one more pint...

But as Novgorod dwelt deeper to the Downs the unpleasant feeling of everything not being quite right came all the more pressing. Mostly it was the weird fog. He had noticed some faint stripes of fog in the moonlight already some time ago but hadn’t paid much attention to them. Fog was fog after all and it happend to appear here and there at times, especially early mornings. But slowly Novgorod started noticing the odd behaviour of this particular fog. As long as he was able to see any futher he had time to realise that there was no fog in any other parts of the Downs but just around him. And it was moving along with him, whirling slowly around and condensating all the time!

Then came the voice. It was a low and hoarse sound that didn’t seem to come particularly from anywhere but from everywhere around him. Like the fog itself would have produced it. It sounded almost like the voice was composed of syllables, forming words of sorts. The fog got whirling and condensing tighter around Novgorod.

--------

Novgorod woke up in almost complete darkness. There was some faint phosporous light on his right. As he turned his head, he saw a light radiating fog that had vaguely a form of a gigantic warrior clad in robes. Suddenly there was a flash of dimly emerging dawning light as a boulder was turned aside and the fog-monster disappeared. The rock was slammed to its place and it was pitch dark again. Now if something is, this is creepy... Novgorod knew well enough that the best way to make things worse now was to panic. So he panicked.

But after nothing happend in a few moments he managed to cool himself down enough and tried to think. Whatever that was and wherever I am, there must be a way to get out! Carefully he came down from the table made of wood and stone that he had been laid on. Slowly he started creeping towards the entrance that had just been slammed close. He used the wall as a guide. The wall was covered with a thick layer of dust.

He reached the rock that blocked his way out. Novgorod searched for a handle but managed not to find one. Okay. I’ll just push it open. Novgorod tried, then he tried with full force. The rock didn’t move an inch. Well, then what? Waiting here for that monster to come and devour me? Novgorod was wiping sweat from his forehead. There must be something here...

Novgorod decided to check the other side of the chamber too. Just beside the entrance he stumbled to his own backpack. His sword was laying beside it. Novgorod took his sack and tied his sword on him. These won’t probably be of any use but it’s nice to die with some familiar things around, Novgorod grinned to himself in the dark and continued following the wall. Soon he crashed to a smaller table. There were different arms, dull and dusty, laid over it. There were also some cups and a few pieces of gold and coins. From habit Novgorod gathered the goldpieces and the coins and put them into his sack. After a moment’s hesitation he threw two of the cups in too. One never knows, he said half-aloud to himself and smiled sarcastically.

The small chamber was fast walked around. Novgorod sat on the table he had laid earlier and got back to thinking. I will never win that kind of thing in a fight and it seemed not a kind of a guy who wants to have a discussion and turn it’s mind after some nice pleas by its captive. But it must fear or at least dislike something. The problem is that I haven’t the faintest what it could be. Merry songs perhaps? Novgorod almost bursted to laughter with the idea. He figured how it would look: himself standing on the table he was now sitting as the foggy monster would come back and by singing some merry old nursery-rhymes the wight would be trembling in terror! That was just too funny... and futile.

But then he came upon a more promising one. It took me while it still was dark outside and it went out as it was still the early morning hours and quite dim. It lives inside this chamber, well probably... possibly? So it might not like the light? The plan was worked out pretty quickly. There seemed to be no other reasonable options anyhow. If it comes back to hide away from the morning light, I have no time to lose!

He walked over the chamber to the smaller table and took the helmet from there. Then he carved some pieces of wood from the larger table and lit a small fire near the entrance, hoping that even some of the smoke would get sucked outside by the draught. Using a wrenched cup and a small dagger taken from the table he managed to adjust the helmet to stay upsidedown over the fire so that it began to heat. Then he took the Easterling’s piece of meat out from his sack and started carving the fat out from it in the light of his little fire. This is probably the best use for this piece of meat there ever is going to be! Happily I didn’t throw it away yesterday! He poured the fat into the helmet and checked that it started to melt slowly over the fire.

He tried to hear for any sounds outside the entrance but couldn’t hear any. Okay, then the showpiece! Fast Novgorod gathered the other items from the table and got to the bigger one. He assembled the armour, the shield and the sword over the table, making them lean towards the wall looking like someone standing there. After that he started frantically to rip the dust from the walls near the entrance, laying them handful after the other over the quasi-man he had built on the table. The he changed his clothes again. The silvery and golden embroideries in the Easterling robes would flash in light too. What a self-defence...

Suddenly he was feeling cold. Something was drawing nearer.

Hurry now! Happily almost all the fat had already melted. Novgorod took the helmet by covering his hands with the Easterling underwear and poured the melted fat to the cup he had put into his sack earlier. He spread some of it over the “wanna-be man” that was covered with dust and threw some to the walls behind. Then he got beside the entrance by the little fire and started stuffing the cup with dust, ready to act as soon as needed.

Then he heard the rock being heaved out from its place and saw the dawning daylight pour in. He had the underwear still in his hand. Fast he took most of the burning wood from the fire and threw them towards his display. The foggy shape of the Wight came in just as the fire bursted. The armour and the shield shined with light and the dust on the walls flared alight, the grease continuing to burn after the blinding initial flare of the dry dust. Simultaneosly Novgorod dropped the last little burning sticks to his cup filled with fat and dust. It bursted like a torch.

The Wight was confused for a moment and that was enough. Novgorod leaped out into the daylight with his homemade torch in hand. And he ran. He ran as fast his feet could carry him. He heard noises from inside the tomb. To his luck, the Wight had decided to deal with the fake one first. After it noticed the threachery Novgorod was already somewhat far away, in bright morning sunshine. The moan of the wight coming from behind him chilled him to the bone but he continued running.

Despite not noticing anyone following him, Novgorod run the whole way until he reached the end of the Barrow Downs.

[THE Ka]

Kafkalina had finally reached her own neck of the woods, and was now happily climbing the northern downs with grace and ease. Now almost through, she paused to hear the voices of orcs ripping through the air and that of forlourn humans, as if a fading echo. She knew the downs had many a trick within the fog that encircled it, but the voices were stronger the farther she went. Slowly creeping on the top of one down, amoungst some alder trees, she viewed two of her rather ill-favored creatures, a small band of orcs, and three humans they were keeping as prisoners.

She would have no trouble passing around them, but there was no other trees to give her cover between where she was crouching, and the forest behind the orcs and their human entertainment.

Oh rah toom! Why must I be given such things to deal with. I don't want to save these humans, who may be no better than those vile orcs. Both cut, and slash, and hack, and burn... I guess though, humans are easier to educate, and far less likely to attack me at first. Then again, I guess the same is for orcs, I doubt they have seen such a creature as I in their lives. Even so, ho hoomm, I must be careful and cautious, what can they use against me?

Scanning the encampment, she saw that the humans were not dressed for the forest, or much travel at all. They of course, did not seem to have any weapons on them, as the orcs all carried axes and such of their design. There was supplies to make a fire, but it would be a damp one at most, because of the fog all around. Kafkalina felt a sense of advantage, but was careful as to plan it. Walking softly and in the thicker parts of the fog, she started to approach closer to the camp with her pole in hand. Spying a loose stone nearby, she picked that up as well.

Sitting now behind a down not far from the camp of orcs and their prisoners, she listened intently for the opportune moment, as the sky began to slowly loose light as dusk approached the northern downs.

" These filthy humans don't have any good things on them! No weapons, only a knife or two. Stupid villagers no doubt, i'm tired of raiding these flesh bags!" hissed one orc in disappointment.

" Shut your trap! At least they had food and supplies on them, and a wicked trap they brought to themselves here! No ghost I can see on the downs, except maybe theirs tonight!" cuckled by what seemed to be the more thoughtful of the orc band.

" They say that evil spirits, and that of fallen men, haunt these hills, Wights they're called. They're able to move the hills, and trees to work for them, and they sometimes take victims under the earth with them..." wispered another orc, glancing at the bound humans.

" Your head's rotted with man nonesense! You're letting those tales the prisoners tell get to you. I don't want you on watch near them tonight, go out near the hill tonight, now!" barked their leader.

"... and if I see one of these filthy flesh bags say another word, I'll have their tongues for supper!" the orc leader said, while flashing a long knife in front of its human captives.

Kafkalina smiled as she watched the scolded orc slowly approach the down where she was, this one seemed even more encouragable than the rest, and more likely to inspire fear in everyone. There it stood, looking out into the misty dark gray horizon, trying to appear frightening, but it's head was darting left and right in excitement.

Ha ro tumm! Now the time comes!

With that Kafkalina approached slowly with a stalk out of the mists, making a low calling sound that seemed to match the mood of the earth and air. The orc, quite small in comparison, looked out in the mist to view what seemed like a humanesque shape, carrying large weapons, and it was calling out for something other than a greeting. Quickly restepping in it's spot, it looked over its shoulder a few times until it could stand it no more. Running back, he sounded his imagination in terror.

" There is something coming, there is something coming! Look to the hill, it is coming out of the hill! It is a Wight! Hurry!" He raspped in alarm.

" I have had it with you, you mindless head of rot! Let me silence your babbling for good, you're tongue is mine no-" the leader stopped in mid bark, to stare up at the 'wight' of the down.

Kafkalina was now growling with delight as she starred down at the pitiful creatures, and without a word, began to attack. The orcs of course, did not stay in their stupour for long, and ran for their axes, or anything else of use. Using her stone carfully, she swooped it in their direction as the stone implanted them into the hill. The few others that remained had started attempts at a fire, but only had a flame in the moist air. Throwing them at her, she was able to swat them away just in time, but a few orcs were trying to escape to the woods and under cover.

" Rah toom! No you don't vile, slithering creatures! This is what you shall recieve for burning wood!" Kafkalina bellowed at them.

Just as they were to make it to the first tree, She extended her arm as far as she could and swipped at them into the distance. Looking about carefully, she found that they had been taken care off, except for one which she accidently stepped upon.

" Argh, disgusting and vile! I should be more watchful next time."

Kafkalina was about to go, when she remembered the human captives. She found them a few leagues away, trying to inch away within their bounds. There was utter horror and astonishment in their eyes, but mostly shock.

" Yo.. You... Please! Don't kill us, whatever you are!" One, an older boy, cried in shock.

Kafkalina bent down further, and gave a light laugh to this and smiled.

" Ho humm, have no worry young human, I am not bent towards killing things or people. I had only to attack your captors, becuase they were ill-favored to me, and in my path and would most likey not let me pass."

" What are going to do with us now then?" Asked another.

" Humm, well, I take it you are definately not woodsfolk, and that your home is not the forest. Here is what I shall do, if your home is not far from the outskirts of the forest, I can carry you to the outside borders and you can take your leave, but... Only if you promise not to attack me or, struggle and not listen to what I will tell you. It is not often that I do not meet men bent on greed for trees and nature, and it rarely that I care to save them in general. I hope that what I tell you will help you understand why I do not care so much for your kind, and what you should know to avoid further trouble in these woods. There are not only orcs that can cause you ill will, young humans..." Kafkalina said with an air of warning, she still found it hard to trust the shaken humans before her.

" Ye... Yes. Yes, if you could leave us at the northern edge of the forest it would be a blessing. We won't struggle, the orcs took the few weapons we had, and we have nothing else upon us. What you have to tell, we would gladly like to hear, we really enjoy tales... ah, or words of wisdom. Sorry, I sometimes confuse the two quite often. I hope you don't mind asking, what are you exactly?"

Carefully packing her pole and other things back into her bag, she bent down and carefully picked the three men up. Walking through the forest she began to reply.

" I am of the ents, old we are, and not many left either. My home is to slightly south of here, in what you call the Old Forest, but I am on other business right now and heading west. Now, I believe I think it is time I instructed all three of you in why I dislike woodsmen..."

After a slightly lengthy passing through the wood, and an even longer talk, Kafkalina left the three men at the forests' border. They told her farewell, and best of luck to whatever she was attending to. For humans, Kafkalina found them quite... odd. Not once through her speech did they fall asleep, or interrupt, they only looked up and seemed all ears to her words as if she was dripping gold from them.

Ho hummm... Seemed more like elves than simple human townspeople...

She continued her journey west, and the humans soon left her concern. The humans though, did not easily forget her, and reported back many times what they saw and heard, each time the tale grew larger, and so did the ent. Unfortunately, what did not grow longer was the humans' trust by others, and any bit of sanity they claimed to have.

[Sleepy Ranger]

"Dammit!" thought Ransley as he saw the large mass of rock and dirt which blocked the entrance. What on earth had he been thinking when he left his food in that stupid hole. It was so totally unlike him. What could he do? Hunt for food? Yeah, why not? There were rabbits a plenty here. Ransley smiled as he drew his short sword. Yeah, his food was growing stale anyway.

Using what he could find he set up a few traps and in the mean time went off to search for some fruits or such. He found a fair number of raspberry bushes. Why, it would have easily been enough to feed him for the remained of the journey. More food could come by later, he was close enough to home now. As he picked the berries he thought about how close he was now, he was not in this for the money.

He had never joined this race for the money. It had been for his own satisfaction. Ransley the Ranger had no need nor want for money. He had his own reasons for this quest but now he doubted he would even do what he had wished to. He wondered what he would do with all that gold if he did win... more so he wondered what the person who organized this really wanted. He also wondered if he would ever get a chance to fight that sissy Eoln.

Once he felt he had enough raspberrys he went back to check his traps. Yes, he had a few rabbits. Slash, slash, slash... he had a few dead rabbits. He stored them in his bag. Enough food to last the remained of the quest. Maybe he could retrieve that on the way back if he cared enough. Well regardless, Ransley continued on his quest.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Éomeléo tramped on, extremely cold and bitter. The Misty Mountains were proving very difficult conditions to travel through. There was no sign of life. Everything was still and frozen and....dead? Maybe not, but certainly comatose. If he had companions this could perhaps be viewed as romantic surroundings. Not while he was alone, though. It was miserable and, above all, dangerous.

Walking along a stretch of path beside one of the huge mountains, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, Éomeléo heard a worrying noise. It was a loud groan. He wondered if he had been disturbing any giant bears (and really, really hoped that he hadn't). He wondered what it could be for a few moments, but then the snow started to fall. Strange thing was, it was falling only on him. He looked up and there was no doubting that the snow was coming from the mountain-top. The groaning got louder and Éomeléo realised that he was going to have to survive an avalanche. Defeated, resigned, he just hoped it would be a small one.

The snow came crashing over the mountain, a white wave airborne, and Éomeléo instinctively raised both arms to make a point in the sky. The snow bludgeoned him, and his arms took the brunt of the force; but at least his head was more protected than it would have been. By sheer good fortune, the avalanche was not so big. It lasted only for a few seconds, and it did not cover him totally. The snow was chest-high, and Éomeléo began swimming through. He knew that he had limited time, and he had to find somewhere to start a fire. If he could not do this, chances of surviving the night were low.

[Thinlómien]

Thin-Gloomy was hungry and tired. Having moved swiftly westward he had used most of his food. And of my strength too, he thought dryly.

And those were the reasons why he had ended up to the human settlements in Arthedain. It seemed the word was swifter than a darting bird of prey; the news of his arrival had arrived to the King from mouth to mouth in a few hours, when he was still pondering what would be the best place for him to stay.

He was taken to the King. The King was a noble man with piercing grey eyes and remarkable height. He seemed to be fond of pompous speeches. ”Hail you, o wanderer from distant lands! What be your name and where do you come?” Thin-Gloomy bowed down. ”I'm Thin-Gloomy the dwarf, at your service, your majesty. I am from the Iron Hills.” ”And what do you seek from here?” ”Nothing but a shelter and food, your majesty” the dwarf replied humbly. ”Ha! And that is what you shall get”, the King replied with a glint in his eyes. He turned to the servants who were awaiting their master's call in the sides of the big hall. ”Get this dwarf some good food from the kitchen and let him rest for a while. Then send him to me.” ”This a great honour, your majesty”, Thin-Gloomy said, bowing down again, though he did not understand what was happening.

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”I have a mission for you, my guest”, the King announced. ”My own folk can't leave their duties, yet I desperately need to know the position of the army of Angmar.” The King made a little pause and looked at the dwarf. ”Will you go, Master Thin-Gloomy?” How typical of Kings! That was not a question, actually it was an order. And the dwarf had a debt of gratitude to pay. ”I will find the information for you, your majesty”, he said and sighed. The King smiled. ”Then you may stay here as long as you wish and be provided for. When you choose to leave, your food supplies will be filled.” Thin-Gloomy nodded. ”Well, will you go now?” the King asked impatiently after a while. ”Do ravens live in these hills, your majesty?” Thin-Gloomy asked.

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”If you are ready to trust me on this serious matter, your majesty”, Thin-Gloomy said, ”then you must be able to trust these birds as well. They have been friends of my people for a long time.” The King looked sceptical, when Thin-Gloomy turned to young, beautiful raven with strong wings. ”I beg thee, that you go to thy people and ask them if they have seen a big army coming from the North. They are evil people, and will destroy these lands if they get here. They will destroy your homes as well as these people's. These people are the only ones who can stop this army and so we must help them. Go now, my winged sister, and find out where this terrible source of evil camps.”

The raven looked at him in the eye, spread its wings and flew away. ”There goes your scout, majesty”, Thin-Gloomy muttered, watching the black bird in awe and respect.

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”North of the North-Downs, you say?” the King asked. He seemed to agree that it made sense, though he cast a pondering look at the young bird on the dwarf's arm. ”Yes. My sister here and her people tell me so. They have no reason to lie; the army of Angmar will destroy their homes as well as yours, you majesty”, Thin-Gloomy answered, ”And as for me, I couldn't provide you more reliable information myself even if I saw the enemy army with my own eyes. It would only take more time. If you trust a stranger, your majesty, you must trust his friends as well.” ”Wisely said, Master Thin-Gloomy. I trust your birds then, though I'm not sure if it bades well.”

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When Thin-Gloomy left, he had rested and left with fresh food. Yet the most important thing he had gained was respect and trust. They were rare delicacies for the malformed and ugly dwarf. Maybe I'm not that bad, after all, he thought walking away from the city. He almost smiled. He was one step closer to the hoard.