MEE-S3E3: Eriador/Harder than Stone (part 3)

 

Vogar (Bill) Dwarf Warrior… Shadow Weakness (Resentful)

Zim (Tony) Hobbit Treasure Hunter…late

Ricfried (Brian) Woodsman Warden…absent

Lorig (Matt) Dwarf Scholar

Mud (Duane) Wood Elf Wanderer

Axel (Geoff) Rohanian Warrior

29 May: Zim finished licking the breakfast plates clean and loaded the pots and pans onto the pack-horse. Feredrûn appeared in the tower shadows, “Travel east-northeast to the far corner of the Ettenmoors where Mormog gathers troll kindrith. Go thru the moors to avoid patrols and scouts and more trolls on the move. You’ll be fine as long as you do not disturb the dead.”

Once again, the group set off on horseback. Lorig (Hunter) sat behind Mud (Guide) who took the lead, followed by Axel (Hunter) and Zim (Scout). Leaving poor Ricfried to deal with the resentful Vogar (Lookout), “Mud, you sure you don’t want to swap dwarves? Our lookout should be up front.”

Embarkation (4): The pale of doom and misfortune clung to them like dew upon the ground. Casting shadow upon their thoughts. As if forecasting the misery. The rocky crags of the Coldfells gave way to the marshes (moors) of the Ettenmoors. They struggled to find footing and high ground; the horses exhausted as their hoofs continually sunk into the muck. “Ssslluup!” Froth clung to the horses’ lips, “We have to stop. Zim, you’re light enough. Hop down and scout around for a decent camp.”

They unloaded the horses atop a small oasis of dry land. Lorig gathered a few root plants to add to a stew as Zim dug a survival campfire to hide the embers. The dwarves and elf took watch as the others slept. But sleep for some was elusive considering the cloud of mosquitoes and Zim’s snoring. Their only relief was Mud offering Lambas bread to quench their exhaustion.

Just before dawn, Feredrûn appeared in the east, standing in the Misty Mountain shadows. Mud was the first to notice the bruises and chaffing around her collar. “The master called, and I did not respond fast enough for his liking. He used me as an example for his followers.” Mud doubled up on his (their) promise to free her. As the sun began to climb over the mountains, Feredrûn repeated her warning, “Do not disturb the dead.” As she faded away, Zim tried to ask, “Would songs put them back to sleep?”

30 May: They trekked thru the bog with an occasional hag rising from the muck, only to slide back beneath the surface. Long hours till they came upon an ancient battlefield. A few poles stood upright… battle-flags long rotten away. Dead-lights (will-o-wisps) floated across the watery surface. Curiosity teased Zim who wanted to get down and follow one, but Axel grabbed his collar and sternly whispered, “No!” They edged around the pockets of bog trying to let the dead sleep. “Clang!” As Mud’s horse suddenly sunk in a muddy spot, Lorig’s blade clanged against his shield.

The moor slowly came alive as zombies, wraiths, and specters rose from their sleep. Mud turned his horse broadside so he and Axel could twang arrows at the slower zombies. Everyone winced in pain as the specters’ jaws opened wide, releasing an unholy scream that sent shivers to their bones. Zim hopped off the horse and began scrounging for sticks and kindle to start a fire. Leaving Axel free to draw his bow. Ricfried guided his horse into battle so Vogar could swing his Warhammer from on high.

Lorig hopped off the horse to engage, helping Mud stay at range with his bow. And Zim cursed at the wet sticks that refused to light. But by now, the wraiths and specters quickly floated over the battlefield and engaged the living. Disadvantage for Mud shooting at close-range targets. The ‘shadow’ weighed heavy against them. Natural arrows passed thru the specters, convincing Ricfried and Axel to target the zombies and wraiths. Which prolonged the combat requiring magical weapons for the most damage. Which also took Lorig out of the fight as his healing skills were needed more. For the wraiths and specters dealt psychic damage [claw damage plus an equivalence in accumulated Shadow points per individual].

By the time Zim finally started his fire, only a wraith and specter remained. He swung a flaming log, only to see it pass harmlessly thru the specter. So, he switched to his bow to target the lone wraith Vogar had been dealing with. Vogar jumped off the horse to engage since his allies had surrounded the wraith and blocked Ricfried from closing again. Vogar howled when Axel fell the enemy, “Damn it! That was my kill. I got all muddy for nothing!” Axel consoled his ally, “You’re welcome.” Zim offered, “You can at least dry yourself at the fire I started…for nothing.”

31 May (Arrival): It took another day to get out of the moors. To then face the cold winds blowing down from the Ettenmoors Mountains butted against the Misty Mountains. They crossed the Hoarwell River and followed long broken steps (hacked wider by the trolls) leading down into a cavernous forested ravine. They proceeded with a grim determination and clear purpose. They thought…as Vogar asked, “What’s the plan? Mormog rallies hundreds of trolls. I can only reasonably kill a few. Unless we plan to slow them with the tough gristle of dwarves.”

Mud spoke up, “First, we need to hide the horses. This forest is too thick to maneuver thru. And from those obvious troll tracks, we need somewhere to hide them from sight and smell.” And that is when the elf caught sight of a bluish glow back within the trees. A cave! Where Feredrûn waited and motioned them forward. “You made it. Leave your horses here. I do not know Mormog’s plans. I can only hope upon your hearing his speech, you might rally the west against him. Not all of the trolls speak the blackspeech; so, he will converse in common. As for my bonds, later. You mentioned Gandalf. If he is Istari, then he might be able to remove this collar and free me.”

With the horses hidden away, they crept closer to a broad cleave in the treeline where Mormog’s speech would be held. They first spied hundreds upon hundreds of stacked barrels before they made out a trio of hill-trolls standing before a gap. What looked like a firepit built to the side. “Mormog must plan to reward them afterwards. Those 3 seem to be getting an early start.” Mud and Zim discussed how best to sneak around them. “Too many crunchy leaves and twigs in the forest to sneak in that way.” Zim offered, “I could sneak among them and trick them into fighting each other.” Lorig whispered, “Let them get fallen down drunk, then slip past.”

And that’s when another group of mountain and hill trolls approached, tipped over the drunken trolls, and entered the broadcleave (amphitheater) within the trees. Zim used the que to sneak forward with plans to ‘coup-de-gras’ the passed-out guards. “Snap!” A troll drooling “More beer” didn’t phase the hobbit. It was the firepit stirring and rising to become a 2-headed Ettin! Zim dove for cover behind the barrels. With sloth-like movement the Ettin looked around, sniffed, then settled back into its repose. Zim quickly slit the troll throats then (gritting his teeth to aid his stealth) returned to the others. “The trolls are not our problem anymore. THAT thing will be! One advantage we have is all the raucous noise the trolls in the broadcleave are making.”

Mud and Zim stealthfully returned and climbed atop the barrels. Axel crept to the treeline to ready his bow, as Lorig slowly moved closer. Vogar crept directly at the Ettin with plans to charge when it stirred. He didn’t have to wait long. Reacting to its tremor-sense, the Ettin rose… “Sniff, sniff”. And the barrels came toppling down on him…just as a rain of arrows sunk into his hide. Vogar charged.

A slow-motion recap: the Ettin swatted at the barrels, splintering them in an explosion, causing Mud and Zim to dance upon the collapsing barrels as a wave of beer washed over everything. Vogar arrived to hammer away. All sloth-like movement of the Ettin replaced with fury. One head sought out the barrel foe while the other head glared at the dwarf. In one fluid motion, the Ettin grabbed the dwarf by his waist, tossed him into the air head high (giving him ‘the eyeball’), then swatted him with a huge tree branch. “Batter up! It’s outa here!” Vogar flew thru the air a good 80 feet. The trunk caused enough damage. The landing against the base of a tree just as bruising (40HP).

Zim used his size and speed to slip underneath the Ettin to hack away at its ankles. More of a nuisance that drew one of the heads in search of the ‘pesky mosquito.’ Poor Axel: he took the Ettin move as an opening for his melee assault. Once again, the Ettin grabbed his foe and ‘hit a homer’. “Ooof!” Axel tumbled thru the air. His saving grace was being slowed crashing thru tree branches before he came back to earth. The Rohirrim spit out the pinecone lodged in his mouth, “That was dumb. I should have learned from the dwarf’s mistake.”

Mud had seen enough to grow wise enough. He stepped further back as he notched arrow after arrow. “Twang, twang.” All the while, Zim hacked away at the same spot. Persistence to finally cut thru the hide. Meanwhile, Vogar slowly began to move. All sense knocked out of him. Lorig rushed to his side about the time Axel was flying overhead. But they had done enough. Just enough hacks and arrows. The Ettin began to wobble. Then collapsed with Zim scooting out of the way. “THUD!” Silence. Till Zim prompted the others, “Don’t just stand there. Help me position them as if the drunken fools attacked each other.”

Mud and Zim snuck into the broadcleave where they saw the massive gathering of trolls of every kind (except cave and snow trolls). With the natural amphitheater more of a sunken bowl, they were able to spy the leader Mormog standing atop a hastily constructed wooden dais. The fearsome brute: clad in black mail from bony head to clawed foot, looked more like a gigantic Orc than a Troll. A huge sword with a curved and jagged blade was strapped across his wide back. The echoes of his harsh voice sent shudders up their spines.

“Brothers, Sisters, yer have et and drunk hearty, eh? Harken now. Yer knows from where I came and who I serve. Long time since last he walked here in the North. You are the soldiers and strength he favours afore all others. He is coming back, he is.” Trolls roared with approval as Mormog continued, “Weak are the West-lands, gone soft with age. They haven’t known strife in a thousand years! Till now: we have many friends in these lands now, men what’s useful for more than their flesh. Men to serve yer, keep a sharp eye out while yer sleep and more things too. I’ve been busy, yer see. Digging places, caves and such, set all about Eriador. Secret places where the light of the sun will never touch yer, until by the Dark Lord’s will, the sun will come out no more ’round here. Time’s soon coming to leave these highlands and take back what was yers long afore. Join up with me and yer will never want for meat, nor drink. Join with us, and yer’ll have plunder the likes of which have not been seen in an age!”

Many gathered trolls chanted “Mormog!” while others yelled, “Angmar!” Mud and Zim had heard enough; they began to slip away. “Crack.” A troll turned at the sound and looked quizzically at the men as if they belonged per Mormog’s words. They might have gotten away. Till Zim flipped off the troll. It bellowed in reply, attracting more trolls. And Mormog who saw the hobbit and elf scurrying away, “Get them! Fresh meat!”

Escape: Flee or hide? Survival or stealth? Mud called ahead, “Topple the barrels to slow their pursuit!” With the gap sloped into the broadcleave, barrel after barrel tumbled into charging trolls. The smarter mountain trolls swatted at the barrels, shattering them as they plowed thru. It was a mad dash for the horses hidden in the cave. The short-legged dwarves fell behind while the nimble hobbit (equally short-legged) leapt past them. With his ‘Helm of Awe’ firmed planted on his noggin, Vogar turned toward the trolls to intimidate them. One actually fled.

Hill and stone-trolls closed on their foe. Edged on with the smell of their favorite meat- dwarf. Mud and Axel stopped to lend aid via arrows into the pursuit. But that was just pinpricks to piss them more. It would take a LOT more arrows to fell even one. That was evident in past encounters with trolls. Zim was the first to reach the horses and quickly mounted Stedrick. Mud whistled for his own horses as he continued to rain arrows into one particular troll. Ricfried (he stayed with the horses) mounted his horse and rode out to pick up Lorig.

By now the first wave of trolls had reached Vogar and Axel. They traded blows. Thankful that Lorig had healed them earlier from the Ettin bashing. Mud yelled his plan, “Vogar, I’m riding to get you. Hold on.” By now, Zim arrived on Stedrick (Axel’s warhorse) and pulled the reins to get him to rear up at a troll. Which allowed Axel time to mount behind the hobbit. Meanwhile, both Mud and Ricfried arrived behind Vogar. The dwarf not expecting 2 horses and thought one a troll that had gotten behind him. Thus, he fought off Mud’s hand who reached for his collar to pluck him aboard. “Damn it you hard-headed fool, get on!”

A cloud of dust settled on a few fallen trolls as the fellowship rode away. Mormog would be pissed at their escape. At least he had dead trolls and a live one (who fled the battle) to feed to his hungry troops. In fact, he sacrificed the first wave of trolls for letting the puny humans get away. An example for his gathering forces.

“We need to get back to Rivendell as soon as possible. Get the word out about Mormog’s plans. Sounds like we only discovered one of his tunnels. No telling where the others are or where then open within Eriador. Hast. Stick to solid ground. No need to bog ourselves down in the moors.”