The Hills of Evendim RPG

[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.

[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?

[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!"