A “play by
e-mail” chronicle for The Lord of
the Rings Roleplaying Game,
Narrator: Scottomir ([email protected])
PLEASE NOTE: Since this account comes from RPG narration designed
for the game’s players, it is mostly written in the second-person
(“you” / “your Fellowship”), present tense. This may take a little getting used to as an
outsider reader (just imagine yourself “in the game” as part of the
group). Also, as is the case with
virtually every long-term PBEM game, there was a turn-over in players. Two players left the game due to real-life
problems, so one new player was brought in as a replacement. Please keep this in mind when you encounter
the sudden “cast change” in the story.
Dramatis Personae
Barion son of Brand, a prince of Dale, the youngest brother of
King Bard II (Man Noble)
Belegil, a Wood-elf in the service of Thranduil, Elf-king of Mirkwood
(Elf Magician)
Eogar son of Garbald, a disgraced exile from Rohan,
known as “Vornmir” in Minas Tirith (Man Warrior)
Finbor son of Angbor, the surviving heir of Angbor,
lord of Lamedon in Gondor (Dúnadan Warrior)
Frolin son of Droli, a Dwarf from Gimli’s
colony in the “
Herubrand of
Framsburg, brother of Horn, thegn of the rebuilt town
of
Rariadoc Brandybuck,
kinsman of Meriadoc ‘the Magnificent’ and
a former Shire Bounder (Hobbit Rogue)
The
chronicle begins in spring of the 15th year of the Fourth Age,
seventeen years after the destruction of the One Ring. King Elessar is touring his Northern Realm on his way to dwell
at
Scene 1: Many Meetings in Rivendell
IMLADRIS, the “sundered valley”…Rivendell. This ancient haven of the Noldor “High” Elves has not been so busy with
activity in many years, indeed not since the last great council held here
eighteen years ago. The land is unchanged by time, sheltered against
harsh elements, perpetually blessed with a gentle clime. Though spring
now blooms across all of Arnor, nowhere in the north
is the season quite so fair as in Rivendell.
The vast hidden vale nestled along the source waters of the north branch of the
River Bruinen explodes with verdant color, great
leafy boughs obscuring this secret place from unwelcome eyes. But all of
you are welcome here, it seems, for you have been allowed to reach the Last
Homely House of Elrond’s sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Though Imladris
has lost much of its power of yore, and few of the High Folk remain in its
environs, the Half-elven brothers preserve the
splendor and safety of the land. Its tall copses are guarded by
Wood-elves, descendants of the Green Elves of old who now make their homes here
among the trees.
Goodly
travelers from many Free Lands can be found residing in Rivendell
as guests. They have been arriving in small groups over the past month,
heeding King Elessar’s summons. For here
he will hold a Council of the North ‘ere he sets out to dwell in the Hills
of Evendim, mustering his host for war against
The
brothers then turn to face the king, who rides at the head of his column.
Behind him is a squadron of elder lords also mounted,
and behind them a longer line of mounted knights. Off to the side of the
cavalcade is a body of footmen, mostly Men but one a Dwarf. As Elladan and Elrohir
sweep a polite bow, King Elessar dismounts and
strides over to greet them warmly. “My friends, my
brothers,” he says first in Sindarin, then in Westron, embracing them in turn.
“The
King has come to Rivendell,” Elladan announces in Westron, his
fair tenor stirring the trees.
“And
he is most welcome here, as are his lords and retainers,” Elrohir rejoins in equally dulcimer tones.
“Come,
enjoy the hospitality of the Last Homely House,” Elladan
says.
Elessar turns to face his host, some of the burden
of time and the toll of strain washing off his face simply by being in Rivendell again. “Men of Gondor,”
he calls out in his stentorian voice, “you will make camp in the heart of
Rivendell, under the boughs and stars. You will
be well provided for here, with wine and bread and song. My elder lords,
you will dwell in the empty houses on this estate, unoccupied since their fair
residents departed across the
“Aye,
my lord King,” the graying Ingold replies, his
head bowed low. The chamberlain makes a curt gesture, and immediately the
escort breaks up and swiftly moves to obey the royal command.
King
Elessar then looks to the squad of footmen to his
left and calls, “Finbor,
Vornmir, and Frolin, you
also will stay inside the House of Elrond’s sons – Finbor to represent Lamedon, Frolin to represent Aglarond, and
Vornmir on behalf of my Tower Guard.” A
tall, well-built Dúnadan steps forward and bows his
head, followed in turn by a golden-haired man only slightly less in stature but
even more in girth and sinew; the stout, bearded Dwarf brings up the rear.
“It
is well that you do not fill all the rooms of our father’s house,” Elladan says with a smile, “for five more
representatives come from the north to heed your council, King Elessar.” He gestures to the first group and
adds, “Three goodly ‘Periain’ from
The Shire, a Silvan Kindred from Thranduil’s
Realm, and a noble princeling of the Bardings.”
Elessar greets the five travelers with a gentle
smile upon his regal countenance. He waits for each man to introduce
himself personally, nodding his blessing to each in turn. “You are
most welcome to our Council of the North, friends and allies,” he
says. “You all will dwell with us in the House of Elrond’s
sons as representatives of your peoples.”
Elladan and Elrohir lead
King Elessar and his select company into the Last
Homely House, where comfortable rooms are prepared for each honored guest and
retainer. Chamberlain Ingold is given the
building’s largest annex in which to keep the royal stores and stocks,
organizing and accounting the supplies needed by the royal escort and the
various tithes and tributes that are soon to be received. The great Hall
of Fire is readied to hold the Council itself, a vast table with many chairs
brought in for the lords and representatives. Elf-bread and sweet wine
are provided a-plenty, and those residing in the house are encouraged to gather
in the Hall of Fire to enjoy song and refreshment, and to make the acquaintance
of the many arrivals…
>Frolin spends a great deal of time examining
>the
various pieces of art and craftsmanship on display
>in
the great house. He has many questions
about the
>origins
and history of various pieces, and unabashedly
>questions
any nearby elf about them.
Elladan and Elrohir
seem amused by Frolin's frenetic interest, and they
humor him with some brief explanations.
But when the Dwarf's curiosity proves too insatiable, the brothers
assuage him by saying, "You must speak with Erestor,
the loremaster of Rivendell
and keeper of our archives."
> If the opportunity arises, Frolin will gladly tell
>some dwarven tales to the assembled guests in the Hall
>of
Fire.
OOC: Ohhh good, a chance to make a Perform skill check! (TN 5; 2d6 [8] + 4 = 12 [superior success])
There is much
merry-making throughout the night, as more and more representatives of the Free
Peoples arrive in the Hall of Fire. Frolin and his newfound friends are among the first to
arrive, having come into the chamber with the king earlier in the
afternoon. So the Dwarven
loremaster has staked out a prime spot by the hearth
from which to tell his tales of Thorin, of the war
between Durin's Folk and the Orcs
of Moria, and of the more recent battle of Dale. He tells a pretty story, keeping the rapt
attention of his listeners and earning a round of applause.
>but
since we are here in ELrond's famed hall of fire
>and a
tale is expected in payment for the victuals, by
>here is
the tale of Bard as we of his line remember it...
OOC: Now Barion's turn at the Perform skill test (TN 5; 2d6 [10] + 2
- 2 [untrained] = 10 [complete success])
Many in Barion's audience listen to his tale with interest, smiling
at his colorful descriptions and chuckling when the Lake-men version of the
story differs from their own. At the end,
he is rewarded with polite applause.
>that
the folk of Girion had in them the blood of
>Westernesse and they were Dunadain,
for they were wise
>and had
many magical abilities such as the speech of
>animals,
though surely they lived not as long...
King Elessar smiles during this portion of the tale. When Barion's story
is complete, he brings it up again.
"I would that all of the Edain possessed
the gift of animal speech, but it is not a talent I have been given. But truly you are right, Barion
Brand's son, that the Men of Girion's
Line and the Men of Westernesse are distantly akin,
for in ages long passed the Edain came out of the
East, where still dwelled kindred Adani who in latter
ages peopled Laketown, Dale, Rhovanion,
and the Anduin Vales.
Though it is a blessing that you do not directly share
the blood of Númenor, which we now call Atalante the Downfallen. Be content to share kindred blood with the
noble Edain, not the accursed burden of the Dúnedain."
>However
when the time is right, he stands and recites a simple poem in his >slow,
deep-voiced Westron.
OOC: Now Vornmir's Perform test (TN 5; 2d6 [10] + 0 - 2 [untrained]
= 8 [complete success])
Though not
a trained singer by any means, Vornmir possesses a
rich, manly voice well-suited to his martial poem he recites. The topic rekindles a memory in the hearts of
many listeners, and they sigh and clap politely when the song is through.
>Vornmir raises his glass of wine to King Elessar and then adds a toast, >"May our victory
against the evils of Gundabad inspire such songs in
the >lands of the North!"
"Aye!" "Hear, hear!"
voices echo throughout the chamber as flagons brimming with sweet Eldarin wine are lifted high in the air.
>"Alright
then, ye asked for a tale, so be it. I will tell you
an ancient
>tale of
Lamedon, as it is told by the old and wise men who
live under my
>father
rule."
OOC: Now Finbor's Perform test (TN 5; 2d6 [9] + 2 - 2 [untrained] =
9 [complete success])
Finbor recites a historical tale of the Men of the
Scene 2: The Council of the North
>Though I owe fealty to my brother Bard,
>which I cannot forsake, and bear great love for
>Thranduil in whose halls I have
whiled many a happy
>hour I pledge my bow to your cause as well, and vow to
>do you what service I may.
King Elessar acknowledges Barion’s noble words with a regal nod of his
head. “Your fealty is well-placed in Girion’s
Line of the Kings of Dale,” the king says, “but I gladly accept the
duty of your service whilst you are able to offer it to me. Whosoever has
the blood of Bard the Bowman is truly a brave and noble ally.”
>Frolin will do just that.
He is most interested in
>any lore they might have regarding dwarves or
>metalcraft, though he would
gladly converse with
>Erestor on any subject.
Curiously, Erestor is not readily
available yet. When Frolin is first referred to
the ancient Noldo counselor, he cannot find
him. Apparently he is busy preparing the council. However, Erestor does present himself in the Hall of Fire briefly
the next day (read on below)...
The
evening of the 14th of May*, in the 15th Year of the
Fourth Age (Year 1436 by Shire reckoning), is pleasantly spent in the Last
Homely House of Elrond’s sons, the joint custodians of Rivendell since their father passed beyond the
A
further accounting of notables is also in attendance. A pair of solemn
Grey-elves from Lindon come on behalf of Lord Círdan the Shipwright, keeper of the Grey Havens; their
attention seems ever wandering, ever distracted, and happiness is perceived on
their faces only when during the late hours of the night they fill the Hall of
Fire with mournful songs of the sea, in magical voices of unsurpassed
beauty. Belegil is not the only Wood-elf, for
two of the Silvan folk have come from Ithilien on behalf of Legolas;
the Wood-elves seem uncomfortable in this enclosed space built for the comfort
of High-elves, and they keep to themselves. Dwarves are here in number,
too – representatives are present from Thorin
the Third, King-under-the-Mountain as well as from the dwindling colony in the
Elladan and Elrohir, the
hosts, are present as well, though they frequently absent themselves to take
care of the haven’s business. Truly, few of the High-elves remain
in Rivendell, indeed anywhere in Middle-earth, and so
most of the work of maintaining Rivendell falls on
the shoulders of the sons of Elrond. What few Elves reside in this valley
are mostly Green-elves, descendants of Silvan folk
who had dwelled in the West since the First Age; they guard the woody copses of
the valley but trouble not the Last Homely House. The House of Elrond is
mainly under the care of Erestor, an ancient Elf who
was Elrond’s chief advisor, now the loremaster
of Rivendell and custodian of its archives; Erestor is distant and silent, long weary of Middle-earth
but unwilling to abandon Imladris whilst the sons of
his master remain.
Throughout
the night many of the gathered representatives take turns singing songs of old
or reciting poems that celebrate ancient deeds. The wine flows liberally,
and some tongues are loosened. The vassal attending on behalf of the Gondorian fief of Lebennin is
named Devorin, a bronze-skinned, silver-haired man
nearing middle-age. The man, swooning with wine, is loudly boasting to a
group of Men of Anfalas: “My family has married
well, it is true. I to the daughter of the Lord of Lebennin, and my brother to the daughter of the Lord of Lamedon. My wife’s father has no sons,
and so I am sure to inherit all. The father of the brother’s wife
still has one surviving son, though Bauras tells me
he is an intemperate reprobate. Lord Angbor had
an elder heir whom he greatly preferred, but that noble youth perished in the
Battle of Morannon, and Bauras
tells all who will listen that the younger son is a great disappointment.
Bauras had the boy sent away, and now he is the Lord Angbor’s chief advisor. If Bauras
already has Angbor’s daughter, I say a full
inheritance cannot be far off!” (OOC: Roel, remember Finbor’s flaw.)
While
the raucous reveling continues, “Vornmir”
appears to have drawn some attention. Halcred
from Rohan seems to be studying Vornmir
intently, perhaps as if he recognizes the man but is not certain. Halcred does not approach Vornmir
himself, but he does talk to a few individuals who are seen with Vornmir. When Halcred
notices that Frolin seems to know Vornmir,
the man pulls the Dwarf aside to interrogate him. “Master
Dwarf,” he says, “what do you know of that man yonder, who stands
for the Tower Guard? Is he an Eorling? Is
he an exile?” Despite Frolin’s
answer, Halcred declines to approach Vornmir himself.
*
* *
On
the morning of the 15th of May, the representatives of the Free
Peoples gather in the Hall of Fire for the Council of the North. A great
table with many sturdy chairs has been brought in to accommodate the dozens of
attendees. As you enter the chamber, King Elessar
is already present. He is overheard urgently talking with Elladan, Elrohir, and the loremaster Erestor.
“He
has not yet come?” Elessar asks, a worried
expression on him face.
“No,
Belemir has not come to Rivendell,
nor sent us any word,” Elrohir responds.
“Did
he leave any news for me when he was here last?”
Elrohir and Elladan look
to each other, shaking their heads, then they turn to
the silent Erestor, who is slow to speak.
“The sons of Elrond were absent when Belemir
last came to Rivendell at the end of October* of the
last year,” Erestor finally explains.
“Belemir stayed for only a few days, and I
spoke with him little. He asked to use the archives. I assented,
for I knew he was pursuing a quest which you had bestowed upon him. When
he departed, it was sudden and without any parting word to me.”
“Most
strange,” King Elessar responds sadly.
“When last I received word from him, in July* of the past year, his
message reported that he had finally recovered a lost relic of kingship once
possessed by my ancestors in Arthedain.”
“Did
he tell you what it was?” Elladan asks.
“No,”
King Elessar returns. “He was on his way
to present it to me in Minas Tirith, but I had need to send him on embassy to Thranduil’s
realm in Mirkwood. The message I sent him told
him he could present the relic to me in May of this year when we gather in Rivendell for the Council of the North. The last I
knew, Belemir obediently traveled on embassy to the
Woodland Realm.” The king looks to Erestor
for confirmation.
“He
did not speak to me of Mirkwood,” Erestor replies, “but he was absent from Rivendell for several months, from July through October of
last year. Nor did he leave any relic here during his brief stay at the
end of October. To my knowledge, he only spent time in the archives and
then departed. He told me not where he was going.” Erestor then bows his head respectfully and leaves.
King
Elessar nods solemnly, consoled by Elladan and Elrohir.
“We are sorry for your trouble, brother.”
“I
thank you, my brothers. Belemir is of my kith,
a Dúnadan of Eriador who
dwelled with the Rangers of the North in Rhudaur.
For many years did he help us in our watch and ward over the land, a vigilant
collector of lore and information and a peerless searcher of lost
artifacts. When I was called south upon the Fellowship of the Ring, Belemir remained in the North to carry on our work
protecting the land. When I became king of the reunited realms, I tasked Belemir with searching out lost relics of kingship, work at
which he has no equal. But such work takes a man to dangerous places, and
can attract unwelcome eyes and greedy hearts. I fear for him, that some
foul mischief has befallen him…”
*
Note: Like Tolkien, I am choosing to render the
months of the year in their modern equivalents, rather than in untranslated Noldorin or Sindarin.
Scene 3: Of Quarrels and Quests
When the
party of Hobbits arrives in Rivendell, they are
indeed warmly received by King Elessar. The man once known as Aragorn immediately
recognizes the name of Brandybuck and shows Rariadoc special favor.
But the other Hobbits are greeted kindly, too, and their gifts of gold
and silver and fine maps are happily received.
Belegil's coming is also welcomed by Elladan and Elrohir, who never
turn away a fellow Elf, even one of the Moriquendi
whose forbearers never bathed in the Light of the Two Trees.
Throughout
the night before the Council of the North, emissaries and vassals gather in
Elrond's Hall of Fire to feast and revel.
However, the thick Elven cordials -- which
only Belegil and his kind seem to be able to consume
in quantity without undue influence -- loosen the tongues of some Men and heat
the tempers of others...
One of the
free-speaking drunkards is Devorin, delegate from the
fief of Lebennin and apparently the elder brother of Bauras, identified as the man who has married Finbor's sister. And
from the angry exchange of words, it becomes clear that Bauras
has been involved in poisoning the attitude of others toward Finbor--perhaps a reason why the young man has been sent
away from Lamedon to serve in the king's court. Devorin, drunk on
wine, speaks without care that Finbor, whom he surely
knows is present, might overhear. Finbor, shaking with rage knocks over his chair and strides
over to Devorin, scattering the older man's
companions. His face bright red, the
angry young man stands before the assembly in silent fury, his presence
intimidating and awesome [OOC: 11 on the Intimidate test roll!]. It is only by exerting his will and inner
nobility that he resisting the temptation to spill the man's blood in this
honorable hall.
>"You
fool, not only are you drunk, but you are a bad drunk as well. I
>warn
you not to slight me or my father again." Then he throws the
>contents
of his goblet into the man's face and handing the goblet to a
>man who stand nearby, he turns and strides out of the Hall
with long
>steps.
Devorin stands aghast, the wine dripping
off his face. His companions have melted
away, clearly discerning that Devorin was in the
wrong to speak in such a manner knowing Finbor was
present. Alone and friendless, Devorin cowers under Finbor's
intimidating presence. He cannot even
hazard to speak until Finbor has stormed off, the
silence in the hall deafening. "Is
this how Angbor's son behaves in the house of Lord
Elrond?" he whines pitifully, trying to shift the blame back to Finbor. Elladan and Elrohir simply glower
at him, and Devorin shrinks quietly into a corner
under the wilting gaze.
Several of
the warriors in the king's train calls out, "Finbor! Wait!
Do not leave in such a temper!
Peace, peace!" King Elessar silences them with a gesture and says, "Leave
him to his own thoughts. He will return
to us when he is ready, and we will again have peace." He then adds loudly to the whole assembly,
"I declare there shall be no more quarrels among us this night, nor till Gundabad falls! Let these heated words be forgotten, and let
us return to wine and song..." The
merriment picks up again, as the assembly consciously strives to cover up the
altercation. Finbor
remains alone outside, though the kind words in the hall carry out into the
night air and give his heart some comfort.
The young swordsman remains in solitude until Vornmir
joins him later for a brief moment, offering consolation and friendship which
are readily received.
Vornmir himself is the object of some
attention throughout the night, as the Eorling
delegate Halcred observes him and inquires about him
from others. No-one, however, can tell
the Man of Rohan about the mysterious golden-haired
spearman. Vornmir
eventually becomes aware of the scrutiny but pays Halcred
no mind, retiring for the night soon after.
But in the solitude of his sleeping-room, he contemplates the man's
interest in him. Vornmir
is haunted by the feeling that he should recognize this man,
that he should be remembered as someone from his past, but his insight
fails him and Vornmir is left with only a vague
unrest in his heart.
The
merriment in the Hall of Fire continues throughout the night, given the others
a chance to converse, share stories, and revel.
Belegil speaks little, but he enjoys much wine
and even finds a few fellow delegates who enjoy games of chance. Though such diversions are of little interest
to the few Noldor Elves of Rivendell,
the other Wood-elves love games of all sorts and join in, as do a few Men who
have not yet experienced the deceptive powers of the Silvan
Folk. Belegil
acquits himself well in the casting of lots and similar sport [OOC: 9 on the
Games skill test dice roll].
Frolin and the Hobbit 'Rard'
are especially talkative, both with each other and with the assembled delegates
in general. The Dwarf and the Hobbit
take turns telling stories, entertaining the assembly with their surprisingly
varied lore. Prince Barion
is less boisterous, but still a lively presence,
chatting happily and comfortably with the Dwarves of Erebor
and the Eldarin representatives from Ithilien. And so the
rest of the night passes happily, with no further conflict or exchanges of hot
words.
* * *
On the
morning of the 15th, all of you return to the Hall of Fire to participate in
the Council of the North. As the other
delegates slowly filter into the chamber, all of you are present to overhear
the king's sullen conversation with Elladan and Elrohir about the missing sage Belemir,
a Dúnadan of the North long in the service of
Aragorn. The king makes no effort to
keep this discussion private, slowly letting the matter become an issue of
public discussion once all of the vassals and emissaries are present and seated
around the great table.
"My
apologies for intruding your conversation my
"It is
no intrusion, good Finbor," the king replies,
gesturing for the others gathered in the hall to speak on the subject if they
will. "Belemir's
absence is a loss for this entire Council, and a loss
for our whole Kingdom, if indeed a recovered ancient relic was in his
possession. If some foul fate has
befallen him, a relic of some power may now be in the hands of bandits, Orcs, or worse."
"Such
may be true," Elladan says sadly. "Aye," Elrohir
concedes, "it may be well that some are sent to search for him."
"As
your loyal liegeman, you need but command, my Lord, and I will swear I will not
rest before I've found your kinsman, if only you would honour
me with this quest," Finbor proclaims.
The Council
assembly begins to murmur, aroused by the sudden excitement. Most of the reactions are positive, several
voices affirming that Finbor's conduct the previous
night attests to his good character and worthiness for such an undertaking.
"But
who else will go?" another voice queries, "Surely one man is not
enough if Orcs or worse be involved!"
"And
how many shall go?" yet a different speaker proffers, "For we cannot
sunder too many fighting men and retainers from the King's host. We shall need every strong man to assault the
heights of Gundabad!"
Most of the
delegates look uncomfortable, and very few seem at all willing to volunteer for
such an uncertain and potentially long and dangerous quest. Mr. Sackville and Mr. Bracegirdle, the two
Shire Hobbits who accompanied 'Rard' Brandybuck, shrink into their seats, mortified at the
thought.
But it is Rard who breaks the room's silence: "If you are
forming a fellowship to go in search of him, I volunteer my own small skill as
a tracker and hunter. It is not great,
but I hope it will be of some service."
King Elessar smiles and replies, "I have learned never to
doubt the worth of a Hobbit or four in a Fellowship. But I think one shall be enough this time,
Master Brandybuck, so I accept your offer. We have two who have pledged to seek Belemir, yet I think others may be needed in this fellowship." His eyes begin to scan the assembly, as if he
is already seeking in his thoughts those whom he would choose.
"And
as I said before the lad will need someone to keep him out of trouble,"
chimes in Frolin, gesturing toward Finbor. He adds of Belemir, "We can find him, whatever his fate may
be."
The king
smiles, clearly having already selected the Dwarf in his mind. "I had no doubt of your willingness,
friend Frolin" he says. His eyes then turn to one of his own
retainers nearby. "I see that you
nod your head, Vornmir," he states. "Though I know you are fain to give
voice to the thoughts of your heart, I can sense the nobility of your feelings
as surely as if they were shouted from atop Caradhras. You will go with Finbor,
Rard, and Frolin." Vornmir bows his
head deeply, signaling his assent.
Prince Barion, meanwhile, his been contemplating the
situation. He has spent much time in Mirkwood, yet he has not always been there. He knows that many notable Dúnedain have passed through her boughs since the Fall of Sauron, and some quite recently, but none stands out in his
memory as named Belemir. He turns to Belegil,
seeking to learn if his Wood-elf companion had encountered him. Belegil, though
silent by choosing, is not afraid to speak when matters and drawn to his
attention. Belegil
informs him that he recalls a royal embassy coming through Mirkwood
two seasons ago and staying for some time, but he himself never met the
emissaries. Belegil
at that time was not a fixture in the royal halls, but frolicked in the woods
practicing his Art and tracking the wine-carts traveling up from the River
Running to the Halls of Thranduil. Barion shares with
the Council the certainty that a royal embassy reached Thranduil
at the appropriate time, but he cannot be certain Belemir
was among them.
King Elessar nods solemnly, as the last hope for an easy answer
to the question of his missing friend is dispersed. "I thank you for sharing what you know,
Noble Barion and Master Belegil,"
he says sadly. "Truly, a fellowship
must be set out to search for him," he continues, confidence
reasserted. "The number stands at
four, but I fear this is not enough. We
cannot afford to weaken our army to seek out Belemir,
but surely we can spare a fellowship of six for this quest. A friend or three is always good, and three
friends twice is even better. Will not two more join
this quest?"
King Elessar's gaze seems to pass over most of the assembly,
resting on Barion and his Elven
companion...
Elladan then proclaims, "The folk of
our House will be at the disposal of the Fellowship for Belemir. The Man had spent much time here in recent
years, and he had come back to this House briefly before his sudden
disappearance. If any in this House can
aid the Fellowship, they will be instructed to do so."
"And
our hospitality shall go with the Fellowship," Elrohir
adds. "Our stewards will prepare
provender, water, and wine, so that those who take the quest will be sustained
for a time on whatever journey they must undertake."
King Elessar smiles and says, "We humbly thank the keepers
of the Last Homely House for such generosity.
Supplies will be made available to the Fellowship, whatever they feel
they shall need if the Chamberlain Ingold agrees it
can be spared. Ingold, listen to any request that
will aid necessary travels and fill the need, if it can be done."
Ingold bows deeply and answers, "Yes, my
king. Let those in the Fellowship
approach me with their requests, and I will consider them all."
The
business of the Council of the North then moves on to the campaign against Gundabad. The
discussion consists of marches and strategies, supply details and organization,
diplomacy and alliance. It is long and
drawn-out, and already many of you have had your minds turned to a special
quest. For them, the Gundabad
campaign is a distant thought. The
Council of the North will continue thusly for many days, now dealing
exclusively with the future war many months away. Those who volunteer to join the Fellowship
for Belemir and excused from the proceedings,
encouraged to begin the search as soon as possible to wherever the trail may
lead...
Scene 4: Much Work to Be Done
King
Elessar’s Council of the North begins on the 15th
day of May, and the first topic for discussion is the absence of the loremaster Belemir. When
the full extent of his mysterious disappearance is disclosed, the despondent
king calls for a new Fellowship to form in search of the missing sage. Finbor immediately volunteers, with Frolin
and ‘Rard’ Brandybuck
joining in short order; the man known as ‘Vornmir’
is recruited next. When two more souls are requested, it is the Wood-elf Belegil and Barion, Prince of
Dale, who rise to the occasion. King Elessar
thanks them with a gentle smile and kind words. “Though perhaps you
may be called upon to return east sooner than you hoped,” he says,
“it will be in good service to us and our reunited kingdom. This
quest is of great importance to us personally, and such service will be no less
in stature than fighting on the slopes of Gundabad.”
He then adds cryptically, his eyes gazing above the heads of all present,
“My heart speaks to me that something grave is amiss, and I fear for him
who was long a friend and companion of younger days. The Lord of the
Shadow is gone from this earth, but some of his darkness lingers on. I
foresee this Fellowship called to a higher purpose, each of you brought to this
Council by destiny. Those Guardians of Light who warded the Free Peoples
from afar for so many ages may still grant us a measure of protection,
summoning together here those chosen for a special purpose. Go forth with
my blessing and thanks.”
*
* *
As
the Council of the North moves on to more detailed discussions of the campaign
against
Barion shortly returns to the Council, hoping to
learn more of the hostile forces threatening the lands through which Belemir may have traveled. The bulk of the talks are
about Gundabad itself, with the representatives of
each land discussing what they know of the Orcs’
strength and movements as well as what their own lands will contribute to the
fight. The Rangers of the North in attendance provide the best
information, attesting that the Orcs have re-occupied
Carn Dum, seized defensible
points in the Hills of Evendim and the northern
Belegil, Vornmir, Finbor, and Rard all wish to
speak with Ingold about requisitioning supplies for a
possible journey. Ingold, of course, remains in
the Council of the North for the rest of the day, so the four of you have
plenty of time to rest and think about what is to be done. When the Council
recesses after the dinner hour, Chamberlain Ingold
makes himself available to you. Some of your
requests are relatively mild: clothing, food, water, wine, tinder.
“All shall be made available, as you desire it,” Ingold responds as he guides you into the storeroom.
“We have way-bread, cured meats, and dried fruits in plenty; you may take
as many skins of water or wine as you can carry. A full skin of water
shall suffice a man for a day in comfort, or two days in need, and a pound of
varying provender shall sustain a man for a day, even a Hobbit.”
[OOC: In other words, you can have as many days worth of “trail
rations” as you want, each weighing one pound; you also can have as many
skins of water or wine as you want, each weighing 3 pounds.] He also lays out from the royal stores a range of cloaks, tabards,
padded breeches, wool gloves, and fur-lined boots, some of them even sized for
young princelings (and so could fit a Hobbit).
Kits of flint, steel, and dry kindling are also laid out. [OOC: In other
words, anybody who wants can take a suit of “heavy clothes” and a
“tinder kit”]
Rard further requests a wide range of
foodstuffs, more tasty and exotic cooking ingredients. “Seeds and
some spices we have,” Ingold answers, placing a
number of small pouches in a sack. He also hands him a sturdy iron frying
pan, capable of cooking up a big skillet meal. Altogether, it is a
formidable “cooking kit” that weights 5 pounds and would allow a
skilled cook to make an actual hot meal even in the wilderness. Finbor asks for a whetstone to sharpen blades, and Ingold hands him a fist-sized bar of smooth sandstone that
weights a pound. Belegil and Eogar make a more problematic request: horses.
“Alas,” Ingold responds, “we cannot
spare you steeds, all will be needed for battle or
carrying messages. Perhaps one of the Elves of Rivendell
may be convinced to lend you their fine horse, but I suspect every Elf here
will need to keep his mount at the ready to fight or travel.”
After
business is conducted, Vornmir takes Ingold aside to discuss Belemir.
The old soldier seems to take a liking to Vornmir’s
direct, soldier-like style, listening to his question patiently [Inquire skill
test]. “I do not know Belemir
well,” he answers plainly, “so I cannot be of much help to
you. I have only seen him a few times, since he has kept himself in the
North and rarely came to Minas Tirith. He has
lived all his life in Eriador. Both before and
since the Great War I have been in Gondor, I do not
know anything of his travels. I wish you well on your quest, young
warrior.”
Finbor joins Vornmir in
his efforts to learn more of Belemir’s
travels. There are a number of Elven scouts and
Dúnedain Rangers dwelling in Rivendell,
and they can be found walking the fair wilds of the haven after the Council is
recessed. Finbor and Vornmir
try to track as many down as possible, interviewing them as to what they know
[combined Inquire skill test]. Neither man is particularly gifted at such
a task, but the individuals whom they find and question try to be as helpful as
possible. The Elves and Dúnedain verify that Belemir has long been an active traveler through Eriador and even Rhovanion.
He was not one to get lost, stumble into danger, or face difficulty surviving
in the wilderness on his own. Rivendell had
been his base of operation for many years, even before the War of the
Ring. It was not unusual for him to be absent from the haven for many,
many months – these individuals would not be at all alarmed by his
current absence of seven months were it not for his pledge to attend the
King’s Council. These Elves and Rangers frequently ran across Belemir in the wilds of Eriador
prior to last summer, but none of them has seen him since October last.
One Elf scout did encounter Belemir in mid-October of
the previous year, apparently as he was departing Rivendell
for the last time: Belemir was rushing off toward the
northeast, presumably to cross the
Finbor and Vornmir
return inside the Last Homely House in time for the dinner feast, and food and
drink are provided all throughout the mansion. Finbor
returns to the king’s company, feasting in Elrond’s smaller,
private hall. He is readily admitted by the chamber porter, presenting
himself before the king with a bow. Elessar
invites Finbor to join the dining party, and he is
willing to chat further about Belemir. Finbor’s major question is why Belemir
was sent so urgently to Thranduil’s
court. “I sent him upon embassy,” Elessar
explains, “it was July last. I had just decided it was necessary to
plan a campaign against the Orcs of the North, and I
needed to learn how readily King Thranduil would
support my cause. When I received Belemir’s
missive, borne by a swift Elf-rider from Rivendell,
it was a fortunate coincidence. Belemir is a
persuasive emissary, and it was sensible to dispatch him to the Woodland Realm
since he was already in Rivendell awaiting my
response. I drafted a formal state paper for Thranduil
and had it delivered to Belemir in Rivendell along with my personal response to him with his
instructions, all borne by the Elf-rider upon his return journey. Elrohir has confirmed that the rider returned to Rivendell before the middle-day of July, and Belemir seems to have set out for Mirkwood
shortly thereafter. Belemir took traveling
companions with him to Mirkwood, for someone had
Elf-riders from Rivendell bear Thranduil’s
response to me in Minas Tirith last November.
Alas, the message did not mention Belemir or give me
any reason to doubt he would meet me in Rivendell for
the Council as planned.”
In
the hours after the dinner hour, both Finbor and Rard decide to make use of the time by studying maps of
Middle-earth. Rivendell has many, of course,
some of very fine quality. However, the Elves are always more interested
in art than technical detail. In some ways, the maps brought by the old
Hobbit Bracegirdle are more useful. By using these various maps, the readers
piece together the many possible routes of travel between Eriador
and Rhovanion, as well as the range of
distances. There are a few more detailed maps of specific locations,
though Finbor and Rard do
not have any clear idea of what exactly they are looking for. Rard also investigates the possibility of having copies of
the maps made to take on his travels. Old Bracegirdle nods
contemplatively and replies, “Aye, young Brandybuck,
I can make you a set of maps. Would need to put them on
fine leather, so that they would not tear or spoil in rain. Give
me a month’s time, and I could draft for you a useful map of Eriador, of the
Frolin and Belegil, in
the meanwhile, have tracked down the Noldo loremaster Erestor, keeper of the
Archives of Rivendell. The ancient Elven advisor to Elrond often stays in the archives,
staring out the windows at the stars or gazing into flickering candlelight, his
elder mind distracted by distant thoughts immune to the passage of time.
When the younger Elf and the Dwarf enter the archive, it takes a full minute
for them to get Erestor’s attention.
Though he still dwells in body in Middle-earth, it is clear that in mind and
spirit he is already long gone. It is his physical existence that
distracts his spiritual existence, not the reverse. When he finally
acknowledges their presence, Erestor studies them
scantly and states, “I knew you would come. These archives are open
to you, search them as you may.” Frolin,
however, pushes Erestor to stay and talk, for he has
many important questions [Inquire skill test]. Belegil
remains silently by his side, available to translate Elven
words that he may know, but generally he does not wish to trouble Erestor any further. Though he seems perpetually
weary, Erestor politely responds to the Dwarf’s
questions.
Frolin asks Erestor
what Belemir was looking at during his last
visit. “I do not know for certain,” Erestor
replies, “for he was here often over the past many years. I have
not inquired after his purposes, for he and I have spoken less and less in
recent years. I never disturbed his work, for often did he pull out
scrolls and tablets, leaving them on this table or another. I let them
be, for he may return to them as needed.” Indeed, as you look about
the large chamber full of thousands of scrolls, books, and tablets, you spot
quite a few items left open. Any of them could have been used by Belemir!
Frolin asks if Belemir
left any belongings behind. Erestor shakes his
head and says, “Nothing that I have found.”
Lastly,
Frolin asks if any writings by Belemir
himself are in the archives. Erestor smiles
faintly and answers, “I have not added new documents to our collection
for many years, most of these writings are hundreds of
years old. They hold lore now long forgotten. However, Belemir often brought parchment and ink into this chamber,
writing notes to himself and others. I would not
be surprised if some of his notes remain, perhaps still in the writings which
he was studying when he was here last.”
As
soon as the questions cease, Erestor returns his
attention to gazing at the stars beyond the window. “A sea of
lights,” he murmurs to himself, “Yes, the sea. Always the
sea…” Frolin and Belegil take stock of the chamber, sizing up the
plausibility of Erestor’s recommendation to
search the many open documents for Belemir’s
discarded notes. They estimate that a thorough search could take anywhere
from many hours to several days, depending on luck and the complexity of the
ancient writings. Frolin and Belegil must decide how much time they are willing to
devote to such a painstaking search…
*
* *
The
Fellowship gathers together in Elrond’s smaller hall late in the morning
of the 16th of May, after a late breakfast. Rariadoc Brandybuck is still
munching on his meal, his second of six that he claims every Hobbit should
properly enjoy. All of you share what you have learned thus far, as well
as progress at preparing for a possible journey. There is some discussion
of horses, and it appears that no mounts can be readily spared for your
company. Barion’s riding stallion Thorin is the only beast of burden at your disposal, unless
someone can convince some of the Elves of Rivendell
to give away their priceless steeds, and that does not seem very likely.
A new day awaits your Fellowship, with new potential tasks and decisions.
What will be decided?
>At the
kitchens, Belegil will attempt to make
>conversation
with the cooks and serving folk about
>Belemir and see if any of them might have a morsel of
>knowledge
to spare.
[Inquire
(Converse) skill test] Belegil stops by the kitchens, were a few of Rivendell's
House-elves are busy cooking a variety of meals. There is constant activity, but the cooks
take a moment to chat with a fellow Elf.
Belegil is by no means trained in the skill of
interviewing, but his persuasive speech gives him some advantage. Still, the cooks cannot spare him much time
and do not offer much detail. One Elf
mentions, "I remember Belemir, but only his
appearance and little else. Tall, dark of hair, green of eye, bearing the countenance of the
Men of Westernesse." Another Elf adds, "His was a name we
heard in this House less and less in recent years. He was often here during the War of the Ring
and for a goodly passage of years thereafter, but we have heard little of him
these past score of months." With
nothing else to add, the cooks get back to work.
>"Pardon
me, my Lord, but may I be so bold as to ask what the
artifact was
>that Belemir had found?" Finbor
asks his King during dinner. "And would you
>by any
chance know who the companions were, that travelled
to Thranduil
>with
Belemir?"
"I do
not know what artifact Belemir had uncovered,"
King Elessar responds, "for he did not state it
explicitly in his missive. Perhaps he
was being cautious, in case the letter were captured
by unfriendly hands. That is why I
assumed he must have found a relic of some power, else
he would simply have told me in his letter what it was." When Finbor asks
about Belemir's traveling companions, the king smiles
faintly and gives a weak chuckle.
"I came to Rivendell the same time that
you did, Finbor, what you know on the matter is what
I know on the matter. I did not instruct
Belemir to take any companions with him to Mirkwood, but neither did I forbid it. I presume he chose one or two of the Dúnedain Rangers dwelling in Rivendell
to accompany him to Mirkwood, possibly to guard the
relic if it was still in his possession, which seems to be the case since he
did not leave it here." The king
adds, "Elladan and Elrohir
have not been able to tell me who traveled with Belemir,
only that Belemir returned to Rivendell
alone last October. But someone came
here separate and sent an Elf-rider to Minas Tirith
bearing King Thranduil's response. Perhaps the Elf-riders may know more?"
>If King
Elessar doesn't know which Elves or Men accompanied Belemir, Finbor
>will
seek some of the residants of Rivendell
in order to find out.
[Inquire
(Converse) skill test] The next morning before meeting again with his
companions, Finbor asks around about Elf-messengers
who may have had contact with Belemir or his
companions. The Elves are always out and
about, however, and they can be hard to track down. Plus, Finbor is not
particularly gifted at inquiry and conversation. He finds a few Elves who have talked with Belemir at some point in the past, but none of them had
spoken with him since before last July.
One messenger proffers that Belemir frequently
traveled with two Dúnedain brothers named Calanhir and Calanlas, but he
does not know anything about them or whether they journeyed with him to Mirkwood. The few
messengers Finbor is able to find and chat with
encourage Finbor to try to find other Elf-riders who
may know more, but Finbor has done the best that his
limited skill at conversing allows.
Scene 5: Vornmir
Confronts Halcred
During
one of the nights, Vornmir will track down Halcred, the messenger from Rohan,
and confront him privately. "Halcred, I
felt your eyes in the Hall of Fire the other night and they burned with
questions." the secret Eogar says.
"What is it you wish to know?"
Halcred attended the Council of the North, and he
can be found feasting with the other nobles on the evening of the 15th.
When you have a spare hour after sunset, you search for him in Elrond’s
House. You find him taking a private stroll down one of the art-laden
corridor, and approach him for a word in private. When you pose your
question, the middle-aged Man of Rohan regards you
once again with his icy gaze. “Indeed my eyes did study you in the
Hall of Fire the other night, and I inquired after you,” he admits.
“None could tell me of your past, of your lineage, or even your true
name. You appear to be an Eorling in the service
of King Elessar, and so I should know of you but do
not. That alone is reason enough to fire my curiosity. Yet, I am
also certain that I recognize your face, though perhaps from long ago.”
You,
too, feel as if you should recognize this man from your life in Rohan many years ago. You reply cautiously to his
statement: “Perhaps we should know each other. Tell me of yourself,
and I may say.”
Halcred does not hesitate in his answer.
“I gladly recite my lineage to all who have need
to ask,” he says, somewhat accusatorily. “I am Halcred son of Theogar, wedded to
Gleowyn who is the daughter of Gleomer,
seneschal to the Third Marshal of Eastfold.”
The
catalog of names and political relationships is enough to finally jog your
memory. Halcred was the man original betrothed
to marry your sister Garwyn so many years ago!
You have not seen him since he broke off the engagement after your
family’s disgrace 17 years ago. When last you heard of him, he had
arranged a much more politically advantageous marriage alliance with one of the
newly appointed Marshals of Eastfold. This
lofty marriage only made your sister and your family in
general appear lower in status by way of comparison, and it was one of
the chief reasons why Garwyn was eventually compelled
to settle for a marriage to a lowborn farmer. Halcred
met you many times before your family’s disgrace, but you were only a lad
thirteen years of age at the time – you have changed greatly in
appearance since then, and nothing has been heard of you or your family in Rohan in quite a few years. Unfortunately, your
powers of insight are not clear enough to give you any strong feel about Halcred’s motivations or dispositions
currently. You are not certain how much he has put the past behind him or
how he would react to the revelation of your true identity.
“Should
we know each other?” he asks again intently, and by his tone he is
certain of it. “Tell me who you are.”
Eogar nods at Halcred, "My identity
cannot be known to all yet, Halcred son of Theogar, so I must ask for a token of honor that you not
reveal it until the time is right."
Halcred hesitates for a moment, studying you with
a cautious gaze. Finally, he responds by drawing his sword and laying it
flat across his palms. “I pledge not to reveal your identity to
those whom you serve or to any in this assembly until you deem it right, and if
I break this pledge may my sword shatter in its hour of need,” he
intones. “Now speak your tale.”
If he agrees, Eogar nods and says, "I am Eogar son of Garbald, brother of
your first betrothed, Garwyn. I could be angry
at you for abandoning my sister through no fault of her own -- she would have
been a fine wife and borne many honorable young warriors with you. There
is no reason she lives raising swine besides my own youthful cowardice, yet I
cannot think I would have done the same in your situation...to marry into
dishonor is foolish.
Halcred’s eyes widen as you recite your
origins, and the light of recognition dawns upon his face. “Ahhh, yes…” he murmurs, “that is how I
was certain I knew you, though you were only a lad so many years
ago.” He pauses awkwardly for a moment and then continues, “I
bore your sister no ill-will, nor do I bear her any now. But I make no
apologies for my choice, for my family had to uphold its dignity at all
costs. You and your father made a choice – you live with its
consequences and have none to blame but yourself.”
"I
am here seeking to make amends through deeds of valor in service of a King and
great as our own. My success in joining the Tower Guard speaks of my
determination, yet only a truly great deed will wash the taint from my family
bloodline." Eogar puts his hand on Halcred's shoulder and says, "If I must sacrifice
myself for the future of my family, someone must return to the great plains of Rohan and speak of my deeds, should they prove worthy
enough. You owe me nothing, but you owe Garwyn,
or at least her children, a life better than you left her. Will you do
this for her?"
He
nods slowly, eyes narrowing perceptively in thought. “You have been
gone from Rohan for many years, Eogar,”
he says ominously. “Your family is all but forgotten, and when
remembered it is only for your dishonor and disappearance. You have
chosen exile, and when you return it will be as an exile who
left his people to assume him dead. I say you would have done better to
stay in your homeland, accept your disgrace, and live a humble life in service
to your king and your country. For now is there any deed you can perform,
howsoever great, that will absolve you of the fate of an exile who abandoned
his kin and his country? I owe you nothing, nor do I claim your
friendship, for never will you be wholly honorable in the
Scene 6: Stockpiles and Searches
As
some members of the new Fellowship become convinced that a journey will be
necessary, they return to Chamberlain Ingold to
requisition more equipment. Rard quickly
outfits himself for a journey, packing away his new cooking kit (5 lbs.), a
little suit of dark-colored heavy clothes (4 lbs.), a skin full of cider (3
lbs.) to go along with his own waterskin, and five
bags of trail rations for as many days (5 lbs.). After conversing a bit
with Barion, Rard also
becomes convinced that a fishing line could be necessary. Ingold considers the humble request briefly, and then
produces a long, thin strand with a bronze hook at the end (2 lbs.), which the
well-prepared Hobbit packs away. Rard then
shifts his mind from hooking fish to bringing down larger game, and he inquires
about arrows. Ingold reacts to this request
with much greater concern. “Arrows we have in the king’s
stores,” he says, “but each shaft we give to your Fellowship is one
less shaft to sink into an Orc’s
skull.” Nonetheless, the chatty little Hobbit manages to convince
the chamberlain to spare one sheaf of arrows for your Fellowship, numbering
twenty (2 lbs.). Rard receives them, though he
may share them with others who ask. [Persuasion (Fast Talk) skill test –
lots of successes for the lucky Hobbit!]
Rard and Barion both
express a general interest in having a pack animal, though no one in your party
expresses a willingness to make the costly request of Ingold.
The chamberlain picks up on the veiled interest and seems hesitant.
“Mounts and beasts of burden of all kinds are as precious to an army on
the march as gold,” he mentions to your group,
“and even less likely to be spared, for they carry the army’s
arrows and provender.” In other words, it will take someone very
gifted in persuasion to pry a mule or even a pack-pony from the
chamberlain… Barion can be very
persuasive when he specifically asks for an item, and he convinces Ingold quite easily to spare a pack saddle for his steed Thorin; the chamberlain readily sees the wisdom in the
request and provides his the saddle, tacks, and bags that all tie together (25
lbs. for his horse). [Persuasion skill test, extraordinary
success!]
Barion later spends a number of hours with the
old Hobbit Gamba Bracegirdle, now the new royal
map-maker. Especially since it will not be possible to make sturdy copies
of the maps quickly enough for you to take on any journey, Barion
wishes to take advantage of them in the here and now. With the old
Hobbit’s aid, he studies the possible routes that Belemir
could have taken. He notes that if Belemir were
last spotted heading northeast out of Rivendell, he
was likely making his way to the
*
* *
Vornmir, who recruits an eager Rard
to join him, makes use of the passing hours by seeking out the Elf-riders who
may know of Belemir or the brothers Calanhir and Calanlas. Vornmir spends some time tracking, a skill at which he
possesses slight talent but at which Rard is
better. [Track skill test] However, they are disappointed. Elves
prove virtually impossible to track, and any signs of Belemir’s
movement have been long since obscured by the elements or covered by other
travelers. However, they do find signs of men moving about the land,
presumably Rangers. But patience proves to be their best friend, for Vornmir and Rard are willing to
spend many hours searching the wilds. Eventually, they come upon an
Elf-rider returning from business to the north. He greets the Man and
Hobbit pleasantly, especially when he learns they have already been accepted at
the Last Homely House. Vornmir, aided by the
ever-talkative Rard, presses the rider for what he
knows about Belemir and his two traveling
companions. [Persuade skill test] The Laiquendi
messenger obviously does not feel compelled to spill his soul to a Man and a
Halfling, but he does deign to talk to you for a short while. “I
know the men of whom you speak,” he says. “Belemir departed Rivendell last
October. I do not know his errand, nor did I speak with him before he
departed. Calanhir and Calanlas
are brothers, young Dúnedain Rangers both, who
accompanied Belemir on his trek to Mirkwood the previous summer. Belemir
returned from Mirkwood first, ahead of his
companions, though I did not speak with him. Calanhir
returned to Rivendell on his own toward the end of
October, bearing word from the Elf-king. I spoke to Calanhir:
he merely said that something in the Woodland Realm raised Belemir’s
curiosity, and he begged leave to hurry back to Rivendell
right away. Calanhir was dispatched by King Thranduil shortly thereafter to bear his response to Rivendell, which was then carried by one of our riders to
Minas Tirith.”
“Did
Belemir have anything unusual in his possession the
last time you saw him?” you ask.
“He
carried an Elf-staff, of the kind made in Mirkwood,”
the Elf-rider replies. “Unusual in the hands of a Man, perhaps, but
I thought nothing further of it.”
“What
became of Calanlas? And where is Calanhir now?” you ask.
The
Elf-rider answers, “Calanhir told me that Calanlas remained behind in the Woodland Realm at the
request of the Elf-king, who wishes an ambassador present in his realm on
behalf of the
“What
do they say? Do they speak of Belemir?”
“They
say the northern watch is quiet,” the Elf answers. “No Orcs have yet troubled the ruins of Fornost.
As for Belemir, they said nothing of him to me nor
mentioned him in their report. Why should they mention him?” When you explain that Belemir is missing
and that you are tasked with finding him, the Elf-rider nods pensively.
“I did not know he was missing,” the Elf says, “nor did Calanhir. I fear I have told you all I know, and I
doubt that Calanhir, were he here, could add anything
further. Farewell!”
*
* *
Beginning
on the 15th of May, and continuing all through the next day, the Dwarven sage Frolin leads an
expedition into the Archives of Rivendell, searching
from clues and traces left behind by Belemir. Belegil the Elf and Finbor of Gondor join in the long search through dusty tomes, stacks
of parchments, and shelf after shelf of scrolls. The archive is a very
large chamber in Elrond’s house, with many tables on which various books
and scrolls are strewn. It has been many years since Erestor
has pulled his mind away from his distant dreaming to straighten up this room,
yet he is always present, always gazing through the window at the skies
above. He acknowledges your arrival, but he makes no offer to assist you
nor does he challenge your rummaging and ransacking.
The
search is a daunting task, one to which none of you is particularly
well-suited. [Search combined extended skill test] Frolin,
after all, is a rune-crafter and collector of oral lore, not one to pour over
books and scrolls, yet he takes charge and organizes the search. Belegil is wise and sharp-eyed, but he brings no special
skill to the archive and contributes little to the effort. Finbor, though his heart is true and brave, is out of his
element, and his efforts prove actually to be a distraction rather than an aid.
In the end, it is only Frolin’s dogged
curiosity that yields success [1 Courage spent +
Curiosity edge].
After
pouring through many scrolls, he finds one old parchment of Elven
poetry in which “Scribed by Belemir” is
noted in the corner. Frolin shows it to Erestor who, after coming out of his sea-lorn reverie, verifies that it is in the hand of Belemir. The Dwarf dives back into his work, using
this verified script to find other notes left behind by the missing loremaster. Most of the traces are clearly out of
date, referring to searches he made years ago, but ultimately they lead to an
ancient hide-sheet scroll with carved runes. It was left on the same
table that Belemir certainly was working at during
his last visit to the archives. Belemir left no
notes on the ancient hide, but based on its position on the table Frolin believes it was the last thing Belemir
looked at. The runes are clearly Elvish
and very old, but it is a language Frolin does not
know. The Dwarf shows the scroll to his companions. Finbor shakes his head blankly. Belegil
studies it and says, “These markings I do not recognize. Perhaps if
the runes were sounded out aloud, I could understand the meaning.”
The Dwarf begins to sound out the runes as best he can, slowly and methodically.
“The tongue you read is an ancient form of Quenya,
the eldest speech of Elves,” comments Belegil.
As Frolin continues to read, Belegil
listens and translates one word at a time:
“I,
Pallando, write this scroll in haste before setting
out to the East with Alatar, so that a record of what
we have learned may be preserved. Though Angmar
has been destroyed for nearly two years, the Shadow endures. The Angril still exists, it has been found! This
foul and forgotten work of the Black Enemy was kept unawares in the treasure
trove of the Edain for years uncounted, brought back
to these shores unknowingly by the Faithful. It lay unrecognized and
dormant in the hoard of Fornost until Angmar arose. Then darkness sought out darkness: the
host of Angmar sacked the fair citadel, and the Black
Crystal fell into the clutches of evil. It is well that the combined
hosts of Lindon, Imladris,
and Gondor have overthrown Angmar
utterly before its dark commander could make any use of his prize. Alas,
it is too late for the
By
now it is very late at night; even Erestor has long
since left the archive. Finbor and Frolin are weary from a full day of mental work, and even Belegil is in need of the night sky and a couple hours of
blissful meditation.
*
* *
On
the morning of the 17th of May, the members of the new Fellowship
gather again in the Elrond’s Hall to share what you have learned.
The Council of the North continues, and every day more delegates arrive from
the various free lands of the Middle-earth. Still, there is no word from
the missing Belemir…
Scene 7: A Private Word with Halcred
Late
on the night of the 17th, your last evening in Rivendell
before setting out on your journey to find Belemir,
the delegate from Rohan calls Finbor
and Barion aside for a private word.
Elrond’s house is crowded with courtiers, vassals, and delegates, busy
with the noise of feasting and revelry, so Halcred Theogar’s son leads you out of the Last Homely House,
to a quiet Elven garden out back. This
golden-haired man of middling age is not well known to either of you –
you last noticed him when you first arrived, for it was then that he showed so
much interest in the mysterious Vornmir.
“Finbor, son of the noble Angbor,
and Barion, son of King Brand, I thank you for this
private word,” he begins politely.
You
return the courtesy and press him on his purpose for drawing you away from the
king’s feast.
“I
assure you,” he replies, “that the business is urgent.”
He regards you with a careful gaze and continues, “What do you know of
your traveling companion, this ‘Vornmir’
as he is called? Nothing. Not even King Elessar, who accepts him in his service, knows the truth of
this man.” He smiles faintly. “But I do. I
recognized this Vornmir from times long passed.
He revealed himself to me, on the promise that I do not share this knowledge
with those whom he serves nor the rest of the assembled Council. But he
does not serve you, and now that we are outside Elrond’s house we are no
longer amidst the assembled Council…”
“It
is a careful distinction you draw on your word…” Finbor comments dryly.
“Aye,”
Barion adds, “and it is usually wiser to err
too strongly on the side of honor than to defy it.”
Halcred’s smile fades, and he no longer seems
quite so pleased with his own cleverness. “That I grant you,”
he replies, “but in good conscience I cannot let you, two fellow Men, go
into the field not knowing the truth of a man upon whom your life may come to
depend. He is Eogar, son of Garbald,
and he has a history of cowardice in the face of danger; that is why he is an
exile from Rohan. His family – what is
left of it – is disgraced. He has abandoned his country rather than
accept his fate, which is nothing more than the consequence of his
father’s weakness and his own cowardice. How do I know these
things, you wonder? Because as a young man, in the year before the battle
at Helm’s Deep, I was betrothed to marry his sister, an engagement
nullified by his family’s dishonor. I say to you, take care if you
put your faith in Eogar ‘Vornmir’!
He is no longer a true Eorling.”
He
concludes, “I bid you use this knowledge well, but keep it to
yourself. I revealed what I know out of concern for your welfare, so that
you may travel on your quest armed with the truth. I do not wish to bring
upon my head the wrath of a man who has nothing to lose,
for I am certain Eogar ‘Vornmir’
would murder me if he learned that I have spoken to you. As I have acted
in accordance with your welfare, I ask that you act in accordance with
mine.” The older man bows his head to you politely, then turns
about and leaves the garden, returning to the Last Homely House.
When Halcred has left Barion turns to Finbor. "Well,
whoever he is our companion is trusted enough by the Lord Elessar
that he has been assigned to our fellowship. I for one shall give him the
benefit of my doubt. I hope that you friend Finbor,
who knows much of the sting of words spoken against one’s honor, will not
take this news amiss either... for I would hate for enmity and mistrust to grow
up between us."
"These are
indeed serious accusations, not to be spoken hastily,” Finbor replies.
“But I have travelled in the company of Vornmir for many months now, and never has he let me, or
our traveling company down. Alway he could be found
in the front lines, scouting ahead or fighting off Dunlending
raiders. And as if those actions does
not speak loud enough, my King, Lord Elfstone, who
can read the hearts of men, has personally ordered him to come as a
representative of the honourable Guards of Ecthelion's Tower.
Although it is rare for a man of Rohan, our
trusted allies, to speak a falsehood; I will, as my King has, trust this man Vornmir."
Scene 8: Frolin Confronts
Erestor
During a
quiet hour when you can find Erestor alone, Frolin approaches the ancient Elven
sage with the Dwarf’s concern about him.
At first he is distant and distracted, his mind wandering lands and
visions far from Rivendell and Middle-earth. Gradually, he pays you heed and directs his attention to you, acknowledging your presence
with a nod. "I hope your search
goes well..." is the best that he can manage to say to you in
greeting. But you then press him on his
demeanor and ask him if there is anything else he wishes to tell you.
[Persuade
(Charm) test] You are gentle in your words and kind in your tone, attempting to
appeal to him as one secretive loremaster to
another. Indeed, his softened expression
suggests that he regards you as such.
But he is of the Noldor, and possesses a long
and ancient memory; the old strife with the Dwarves has never been wholly
forgotten. He hesitates many moments
before replying, "No, Master Dwarf, there is nothing more I should say."
[Persuade
(Charm) + 4 bonus for the scroll] When Erestor is
shown Pallando’s scroll, he becomes more
interested, surprised, and saddened.
"Is this what Belemir
came to the archive to read?" he asks.
"His departure was but such a short time ago," he murmurs,
"I did not think to search for what he was looking at myself." The ancient sage lets loose a small sigh and
continues, "I perceived a growing coldness in Belemir
these past several years, a discontentment perhaps. This coldness of heart had grown when last I
saw him..."
"Why
did you not mention this to anyone?" you ask.
Erestor replies somberly, "It was but
a sense, and only fellow Elves would understand. The Eldar are
children of the light, and we are sensitive to the taint of dark thoughts. I only sensed this coldness in Belemir, and had no knowledge of his actions or
desires. It would be wrong to speak ill
of a man who has served his king and people so faithfully for so long."
"What
of this Angril?" you press further.
The ancient
loremaster nods slowly and replies, "If Belemir found it or even came into contact with it, the Angril could surely be the
source of the coldness I perceived in him."
"But
what is it?"
"I
know little, for it is no more than a myth.
Its name means 'Iron Jewel' in the ancient tongue of Elves. It is said to be a foul work of the Black
Enemy, whose name we do not speak, who was Lord even to Sauron. In the Elder Days the Black Enemy stole the
Great Jewels of Light crafted by the mightiest prince of my people, and held
them for a time in his wrought Iron Crown.
But Beren and Luthien,
whose lay you surely have heard, went into the heart of Angband
and recaptured one of the jewels.
According to the ancient myth, the Black Enemy was so enraged at the
loss of the Silmaril that he himself attempted to
make a copy to replace it. Yet it proved
to be a pale forgery of the Great Jewel, for the Black Enemy's power could only
destroy and corrupt, never create. So it
languished in obscurity until his final destruction at the close of the First
Age."
"What
happened to the Iron Jewel?"
"The
myth says that it was one of the dark relics carried out of Angband
by Sauron," Erestor
answers. "Nothing more was ever
said of it, and it was presumed either lost forever or to have been nothing
more than a rumor." His eyes narrow
more sharply as he gazes again at the scroll in your hands. "I had never read that scroll before. It was one of the many sundry records brought
to the Archives of Rivendell from the troves of Orthanc after the breaking of Isengard. I do not know of Pallandro
and Alatar, I presume them to be of the Order of
Mithrandir and Curunir. If they did indeed pass to the East, they
never returned. But this final record
they left behind was kept in Orthanc for the past
many centuries, forgotten or ignored."
After
bidding the sorrowful Elven loremaster
good-night, you step out of doors with the ancient scroll. The spring evening is cool and crisp, with a
bright half-moon and a cascade of flicking stars in the sky. You hold the scroll up to the moonlight, and
suddenly silvery lines of writing spread across the top of the hide-sheet. Moon-runes!
These you can read easily, for they are not particularly old and are
written in Westron:
"This tale may be worth investigating once the Ring of Power is
mine alone. Pallando
and Alatar are surely no more. Radagast is a fool
who thinks only of woods and beasts.
Mithrandir will be a problem."
Frolin makes his own passable copy of the ancient
scroll using the plentiful materials in Rivendell's
archives. His scroll is not as durable
or artistic as the original, but it recordings its meaning and folds away
cleanly and lightly in his pack.
The story continues
in Part II (click here)