A6S4 – Road Maintenance

[From the Adventures in Middle Earth/Eriador Adventures] 

Before leaving Weathertop, they puzzled what to do with the surrendered Breemen and the rescued weary slaves. [natural 20] Kyan insightfully read the Breemen as broken in spirit as he had a ‘heart-to-heart’ discussion, “Falcor misled you. There is much evil in this world without your involvement. It is best you return to Bree and face the judgement of the Reeve. He rendered only community service for other wayward Breemen who kidnapped the merchant, Weldon. Treat these men you enslaved properly, and they should put in a good word for you. Think you can run away when we leave: know that the Etten is still indebted to us and wouldn’t think twice about making a meal of you.”

July 14-20, Hauntings: As they descended the path off of Weathertop, they witnessed the mangled bodies of Cormag’s men the Etten (Thak & Wack) had slaughtered. Yes, their debt had been paid, but the Breemen didn’t need to know that. And while their ride eastward along the Great East-West Road was pleasant, Kyan struggled at nights per Damod’s hauntings. Yet the further they got from the ghost’s burial site, the less his presence became. In fact, as they drew within sound of the roar of the Hoarwell River as it flowed southward, Kyan’s mood changed to one of pride as he soon gazed upon the Last-Bridge that had been constructed by dwarves of ages ago [regained his Inspiration lost when he almost died].

20 July, the Last Bridge: The 3-arched bridge spanned the deep gorge that ran west of the Trollshaws. Even Theo felt relief as they entered lands known to him [gain advantages in Stealth, Tracking, and Guide duties]. Kyan forgot about the ghost as he remembered all dwarven duty to inspect the bridge whenever they passed. He spied flotsam jammed against one of the arch pilings. Theo held the rope tight as Kyan climbed over the bridge wall to reach the piling. And that’s when he noticed several wood planks connected by a crossbar tangled amongst the dead tree branches. In fact, colorful painting and even an emblem reminded him of the dwarven wagon they had encountered weeks ago on their journey toward the Shire. And when he pulled it out of the rushing waters, he noticed the edges had been roughly hacked by axe or sword, and notches indicated where arrows had been retrieved! 

Back on the bridge, he reasoned, “We need to check north of the bridge where I think the dwarves were attacked.” Someone tried to cover the wagon ruts that led north along the western side of the river. About 50-yards into the woods, they found the campsite. The normal-sized campfire was the size of a bonfire as someone tried to burn the rest of the wagon. Footprints revealed men and creatures. Theo easily recognized, “Three trolls and about 2-dozen men in league with a large creature ambushed the 4 dwarves. Look at the footprints that led north and you can see the trolls’ prints are deeper. Each is probably carrying one or more dwarfs. Strange that trolls work with men: normally they are in league with Orc. Even more puzzling is: why didn’t they eat the dwarves whom trolls hate?!” 

Kyan devised their plan to send Calanhir on to Alatopel, “Remember Falcor’s wagons that were delivering armor and weapons to the north? I fear this force is bound for Angmar. Maybe we can catch up and slow them and rescue the dwarves. Gather your fellow countrymen and we’ll meet at the river-ford Theo says is about 1.5-days north of here.” Calanhir agreed, “It will take me a day to reach Alatopel and another 2-days to reach the ford you speak of. Mark the rock in the river if you continue onward. Safe travels.” 

4pm: They rode for about an hour following the obvious prints of the trolls as the enemy party must have felt no need to cover their tracks. Tendrils of smoke ahead cautioned a camp; they dismounted and after hobbling their horses, stealthfully advanced to within 100 yards with the wind coming from the northeast to carry their scent away. The encampment was set up between 2 large hillocks in a particularly dense copse of tall birch and willows. With spyglass in hand, Theo counted 8 humans gathered about a campfire but no trolls. Multiple tents suggested others slept. One hillock had a massive wooden door; Theo whispered, “Perhaps the trolls rest inside during the daylight.” And that’s when he caught movement of 3 large sacks that rested against the other hillock, “The dwarves might still be alive in those sacks!”

They brainstormed: a distraction to draw the humans out so someone could rescue the dwarfs? They run like hell to the north and hope Calanhir arrives with a calvary? Sneak closer for an ambush? Where are the other humans and more importantly, the trolls? Attack while the sun is out so the trolls can’t pursue? With only hours before sunset, is that wise as they left their horses behind? Thran could use his staff to create sunlight to weaken the trolls. Or to flare the campfire to mesmerize the humans. But what about the other humans in the tents; besides, it’s not guaranteed all humans will be drawn to the light.

And that’s when a troll emerged from the wooden door of the hillock and sat outside within the shadows on the trees. A stone-troll! He reached for a barrel and drank whatever was within. And the 3-sacks squirmed more as dwarven voices confirmed suspicions. 

It was decided: wait an hour so Kyan and Thran could get into position and then Theo would transform into a bear and charge into the camp to create a diversion to lead the enemy southeast toward the river so the others could grab the dwarves. Assuming that’s what was in the squirming sacks…it could be fresh game kept alive for the trolls. 

At the appointed time, a grizzly bear charged toward the camp. If only Theo had snuck closer…[natural 20] he was still 50-yards out when the humans spotted him. A rain of arrows flew his way, and another round of arrows was soon to be released! Fortune his large form intimidated the humans [Disadvantage] as half their arrows missed. Theo (the bear) swiped one bandit left and another right as they flew with deep claw-gouges in their chests. 4 bandits broke and ran, leaving 2 to face the bear: [fumble] one of them cleaved the other. The troll… reached for the closest fallen bandit, drawing him closer to eat! 

Theo-the-bear killed the last bandit who still faced him as Kyan and Thran crept into the camp. The troll watched their approach. Having witnessed the troll eat the bandit, Kyan suggested Theo toss the other dead. To Amos-the-troll he parlayed, “Trade? Bandits for the dwarves?” Amos bartered, “Kill the bear and deal.” Theo roared his disapproval as arrows from the runaway bandits landed nearby. The bear charged after the archers and soon brought 2 more bodies for trade. “Deal. Mormog not treat me nice anyway. He left day ago with others north. Mormog? Orcish Ogre. He wouldn’t let me eat dwarves anyway as he wanted these men to take them to Amon Garak to help search for something. Not know where he go.” 

As Amos loudly ate his trade, Kyan opened the sacks. Indeed, it was the dwarves from the Shire wagon: the father Vig and his twin sons Narvig & Narvi, and Vig’s brother Vogar who had a nasty slash across his face. They were at first thankful for their rescue, until they recognized Kyan again. They became silent and distrustful, despite them being weak [Exhaustion 3] from their prior fight with the bandits. Kyan had his suspicions but held his words as he instructed Theo, “You can run day and night and catch up with Calanhir. Hope you don’t mind the dwarves ride your horse as hopefully we catch up with you tomorrow.” 

Vig rode with Thran as the twins rode Theo’s horse. Which meant Vogar rode with Kyan. Unlike the others, the scared dwarf easily conversed with Kyan in Dwarven, “I remember you in the Shire. My brother says you killed your men. Surprised you do not want to kill us too. I remember you in the Shire. Are you a tradesman like my brother? I don’t remember you in Erebor when Smaug ran us dwarves from our home in the Lonely Mountain. I was just a wee lad then. I remember you in the Shire.” Kyan realized Vogar was the oldest dwarf he’d ever met! And a little brain-damaged from his injury. As they camped for the night, Kyan shared his pipe and pipe-weed as he leaned on RingRist. He offered up the last of his dwarven ale to the dwarves as he confessed his story, “I was wrongfully blamed for a mining accident in the Blue Mountains. As foreman, I warned the men not to dig in that particular tunnel. But the fools thought there was a vein of gold I wanted for myself and dug anyway while the rest of us were on break. We heard the collapse and rescued all but the leader. His father of higher status blamed me.”

[From the scenario The Doom of Arnulf, by Dean Paolillo]

Into the Trollshaw: The next day they came upon Calanhir and Theo back in Beorning form. Calanhir led them into the woods with caution, “I best forewarn you my kind are Hillmen of Rhudaur, once aligned with Sauron in the last war. While we have cast aside those beliefs, we distrust others who tend not to believe our change. Especially elves who live nearby in Rivendell. Thus, why I cover our tracks to Alatopel.” 

It is a chilly summer evening, gray and overcast as drizzle accompanies your march, dampening your cloaks and caking the horse-hooves with mud. As the sun sets unseen behind the clouds, the last light of day gives way to the darker blue hues of the coming night. Alatopel is a welcome sight, and you can smell the smoke of the cooking fires as its inhabitants prepare for their suppers.  As you near Alatopel the gate is closed and a bearded watchman, a spear in his right hand as he rests his left hand on his horn, eyes you warily from behind the wooden palisade. “Well met strangers, what purpose do you have here?”

Calanhir spoke up, “Iwar, you old fool. Do you not recognize the son of our Lord Arnulf?! Iwar almost fell off the ramparts as he leaned closer to look per his cataract eyes. The head of a shorter warrior appeared beside Iwar, “Father, who is it?” Iwar couldn’t get off the ramparts fast enough to open the gate and hug Calanhir, almost forgetting about the others, “Loegir, my son, take the others to the great hall for food and drink as I visit with an old friend. Yes, Calanhir, I had a son (14yo) while you’ve been away. Is this an omen of good that you arrive while your father is ill and we fend for our life?” 

Maybe it was Iwar’s words that made them look closer: Kyan noticed the wooden poles of the fort scared with deep claw marks. Thran spotted tuffs of fur caught in the gaps near the top of the ramparts that were painted red with dried blood. Theo recognized prints outside the walls as those of large wolves! 

Calling another hillman to takeover watch, Iwar departed with Calanhir as Loegir led the others to the Great Hall in silence. As they walked, they noticed other hillmen (with pale faces wrought with worry) boarding up windows. Others, with a sense of urgency, ushered goats and cows into stables and pens. Loegir ignored Thran’s questions: it was obvious he distrusted the elf. 

The Great Hall: Nearly a score of men (with weapons within reach) sat at a large table prepared for supper. The aroma of roasted meat and wafts of ale added to the sight of thick loaves of bread, cheese and roasted chickens spread on the table as several servants busily carved a roasted boar. Loegir tried to introduce the fellowship, but a large warrior (captain Torrgund- with a thick black beard and a tangle of hair) cut him short, “Let the strangers speak for themselves boy. Let us hear the purpose of their arrival from their own hearts so we can judge whether they are true or bring more ill tidings to this hall.” 

Kyan was distracted when another dwarf entered and spotted the injured dwarves. The blacksmith Borin Ironhand led them away for treatment by the village healer. Meanwhile, Thran’s attempts to speak for the group was met with spittle, especially when he mentioned the use of poison [that earned him points of Corruption], “Quiet long-ears. Your kind is not welcomed were it not for Calanhir. What have you to say Beorning?” Theo spoke about their journeys across the land fighting evil and their discovery of Calanlas’ body within the ruins of Fornost, “Per his last request, we bring his sword to his father.”

Torrgund sighed, “I fear news about the death of one of his sons might weaken our elder lord even more. Alas, our Lord Arnulf is not well. Even after the spell of his nephew Cardoc no longer clouded my lord’s sight and poisoned his ears, he fell gravely ill. He is old and his heart is filled with misery once he let that wormtongue nephew banish Arnulf’s son, Malbeth. Even worse, Cardoc suddenly left with our Lord’s daughter, Deoch.” 

Torrgund continued, “Whatever control that evil man has on our lord, I know not. But I do know our lord would desire his children at his side. I dispatched 2-score (40) of men to retrieve Deoch and to find and return Malbeth, but none have returned! Over the course of a fortnight (2-weeks), several woodsmen and hunters have disappeared as well. We can spare no more least we leave our homes poorly defended from the great wolves that attack us nightly.” 

Mention of a spell prompted Kyan to ask if Cardoc wore a red amulet necklace. Torrgund acknowledged, “It was a gift from the stranger who visited us weeks ago. Yes, his name was Belemir. Cardoc was a weakling weasel before meeting Belemir but seemed to gain confidence as he stood beside our lord, resting his hand on his shoulder in counsel. Are you saying the amulet corrupted Cardoc’s mind and possibly leeched such evil into our Lord?!” And that’s when Calanhir arrived, cleaned and properly dressed, as he carried the bundled sword.

Further conversation was interrupted when Lord Arnulf was escorted into the hall, his face gaunt, wrinkled and pale, his breath raspy. After being seated at the head of the table, Calanhir approached. The haggard looking lord didn’t even recognize his own son! Calanhir unwrapped the bundle and stepped forward to present the sword, “Father, I beg your forgiveness that I could not protect my brother. But know that he thought of you in his last hours as he requested the return of his sword to your hands. It was these men who found him and brought forth this heirloom.” But it was if the words were unspoken as Arnulf looked distant and lost. It wasn’t until the blade actually touched his skin that his world became alive. Color returned to his face and skin, understanding returned to his eyes as he looked upon Calanhir, “Son! Where have you been?! Please forgive me for banishing your older brother. And letting my nephew steal away your sister.” 

Lord Arnulf looked at the strangers, “Will you honor an old man’s request? I speak to you not as a lord of my people, or with the authority of my lineage but simply as a father. Seek out my children Deoch and Malbeth and bring them to me before I draw my last breath. I need my son Calanhir at my side to lead the defenses of Alatopel. I cannot bear to lose him too out in the wilderness.” 

NEXT SESSION: A7S1 – Banished Son