The Lord of Darkness

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 “Glittering Caves” of Aglarond (Dwarf Loremaster)

Herubrand of Framsburg, brother of Horn, thegn of the rebuilt town of Framsburg (Man Noble)

Rariadoc Brandybuck, kinsman of Meriadoc ‘the Magnificent’ and a former Shire Bounder (Hobbit Rogue)

 

Chronicle Map: Eastern Middle-earth (click here)

Part I: A New Quest in Rivendell (see below)

Part II: The Journey to the East (click here)

Part III: The Crisis in Dorwinion (click here)

Part IV: The War of the Crystal (click here)

 

 

SETTING BACKGROUND 

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 Lake Evendim for a time, preparing to muster his armies to destroy the Orcs of Mount Gundabad.  For several years now Gimli and Legolas have led colonies in Aglarond and Ithilien (respectively).  Merry, Pippin, and Sam are all living happily in The Shire, an autonomous region now closed to Men.  King Eomer and Queen Lothíriel (daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth) rule over a recovered Rohan, closely allied to the Reunited Kingdom.  Lord Faramir, the Steward of Gondor, and Lady Eowyn dwell together in Emyn ArnenThorin III reigns as King-under-the-Mountain in Erebor, and Bard II rules as King of Dale and Esgaroth, both closely allied with the Reunited Kingdom.  The elderly Grimbeorn (son of Beorn) is still master of Carrock; his Beornings, like the Woodmen of Rhovanion and the related Northman tribes of the Anduin Vales, are friends of the Reunited Kingdom.  Frodo and Bilbo, Elrond, Galadriel, Gildor Inglorion, and a great many of the remaining Noldor-elves have departed Middle-earth for the Undying Lands of Aman; Gandalf went with them, and of the Istari only Radagast remains in Middle-earth, secretly wandering the forests of RhovanionThranduil and his Silvan folk remain undisturbed in northern MirkwoodLórien is dwindling without the presence of Galadriel, and Celeborn is soon to quit his realm, leaving the Wood-elves to linger in LothlorienCírdan the Shipwright remains Lord of the Grey Havens, though his Sindar folk are beginning to heed the lure of the sea and leave Lindon for AmanElladan and Elrohir (the sons of Elrond) remain in the North as joint custodians of Rivendell, still home to the few remaining Noldor and Elf-friends.

Part I: A New Quest in Rivendell

 

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 Mount Gundabad.  On the 1st of May two groups of travelers arrive at the same time.  From the north comes two bands of travelers – a group of three Hobbits and a separate pair consisting of an Elf and a man.  They are guided by Lord Elladan himself, who had been abroad and encountered the travelers upon his return.  From the south comes King Elessar and his great escort, some two hundred men.  They are guided by Lord Elrohir, who had long kept vigil for their arrival and rode out to meet them this day.  The two noble Half-elven brothers embrace each other joyfully, exchanging greetings in their fair native speech: “Ai na vedui! Mae govannen!”

 

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 Sundering Sea.  Choose one and make it your home for as long as we are guests here.”  The king turns to the stern elder Dúnadan lord behind him and says, “Chamberlain Ingold, you will dwell with us inside the House of Elrond’s sons, from whence you will manage our stores and stocks.”

 

“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 White Mountains from long ago.  It is an arcane tale which draws the interest of many listeners, unfamiliar with the origins of the Oathbreakers.  When Finbor concludes, he is thanked with a round of applause, especially from King Elessar.  The king says when the story is through, "The Daen of old betrayed Tarlang and Isildur as well, who cursed them for it.  The Oathbreakers languished in a condition between life and death for years beyond reckoning, yet when their moment of destiny came the cursed shades redeemed their honor.  Without their service, the War of the Ring may have concluded in a different manner."  He then pauses and adds, "It is truly a shame that the descendants of the ancient Daen who yet draw breath have not reclaimed their nobility.  The cursed Daen remained in the Path of the Dead, but their kindred Men of the White Mountains migrated to the north, into Enedwaith and Dunland.  The ancient Daen won eternal peace in the War of the Ring, whereas the Dunlendings allied with the servants of the Shadow."

 

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 Sundering Sea.  You all enjoy the warmth and hospitality of the Hall of Fire, where the last great gathering of Free Peoples during the War of the Ring was held.  It is full of wine, delicious foods, and song.  Many representatives have gathered here from across the free lands of Middle Earth.  Barion, a princeling of the Bardings, has come on behalf of Dale; with him is the Wood-elf Belegil, on behalf of Thranduil’s Woodland Realm.  Rariadoc Brandybuck, a distant cousin of the famous hero, and two companions represent The Shire.  The Dwarf sage Frolin Droli’s son attends on the part of Lord Gimli’s colony in AglarondFinbor son of Lord Angbor of Lamedon is one of the many vassals present on behalf of the various fiefs of Gondor.  With them is a man known only as “Vornmir” summoned hither to stand for the Tower Guard of Minas Tirith.

 

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 Blue Mountains.  Even Hobbits are not scarce, for in addition to the three from The Shire are a pair from the Breeland village of Staddle.  Unlike the Elves, the Dwarves and Hobbits are boisterous and sociable, especially after much drink.  But most of the attendees are Men – lofty nobles from Gondor, select-men from Bree and other newly built towns in Eriador, and even an Eorling courtier who had ridden ahead to Rivendell even before King Elessar’s troop had reached Edoras.  Apparently King Eomer had privately informed Elessar of this, for he is not surprised by the presence of a man from Rohan and greets him warmly.  “We are glad to see you here for our council, Halcred,” King Elessar proclaims; the golden-haired man, not dissimilar in appearance to “Vornmir” but a few years older, bows deeply in response.

 

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 Liege, my Lords, but I couldn't help hearing your words," says Finbor.

 

"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 ‘RardBrandybuck 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 Mount Gundabad, the six members of the Fellowship for Belemir are excused from the proceedings.  You all gather together briefly in Elrond’s hall, a smaller chamber across the hall.  It is decided that you will gather together for more detailed planning and talks on the next day, so that Finbor and others wearied by the Council may rest.  Before you all gather together again, though, several of you pledge to undertake certain investigations and preparations.  You then depart in groups to do as you will…

 

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 Misty Mountains, and are regularly raiding the upper Anduin Vales beyond Framsburg.  There have not been as yet reports of strikes against Mirkwood or the Wood-men settlements in Rhovanion.

 

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 Misty Mountains, and he seemed so intent on swift travel that the Elf decided not to delay him by stopping him to talk.

 

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 BelemirFinbor’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 Misty Mountains, and of Rhovanion from the Anduin to the River Running.”  When pressed if he could do this more quickly, the old Hobbit scoffs: “Not a day, Rard, for it takes great time to make careful maps.  If you rush me, they would be inaccurate and useless to you.”

 

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 land of Rohan – but, for your sister’s sake, I will not leave her to wonder of her brother’s fate.  When I return to Rohan, I will report that you are alive and well and in King Elessar’s service.”  He nods to you abruptly, and then turns about and walks back into the central chamber of Elrond’s house.

 

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 High Pass.  If he hoped to cross the mountains through the Redhorn Gate or – Ilúvatar forbid! – Moria, he would have headed south from Rivendell.  Conceivably, he could have attempted to cross the mountains by going underneath them through the hidden tunnels of Goblin-Town, which are presumably near the entrance to the High Pass but are not marked with certainty on any map.  He likely emerged on the other side of the Misty Mountains at the Old Forest Road, either continuing on to the east by crossing the Old Ford or heading north and making his way into Wilderland via CarrockBarion considers what your group has learned about the Orcs of the North – they have sent raiding parties to the upper Anduin vales south of Framsburg, but they have not yet struck Mirkwood.  This means that the Orcs have so far only harassed the small population of Rhovanion settlers who people those northerly vales long ago abandoned by the Eorlings.  If the Orcs have not yet struck Mirkwood, then it is unlikely that they have penetrated as far south as the Old Ford or even Carrock.  And considering that Belemir passed through over six months ago, if Orcs had raided that region surely reports would have gone out by now.

 

*   *   *

 

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 CalanlasVornmir 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 Northern Dúnedain.  As for Calanhir, he has departed for the wilds north of Bree, there to join the watch of the Greenway.  I have just returned from spending some time with the Rangers, and I come to bring their report to the Council of the North.”

 

“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 BelemirBelegil 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 North Kingdom: Arvendui is lost, and his surviving kin are in hiding.  Worst of all, the Angril was carried out of the ruins of Angmar by a tribe of wicked Orcs fleeing into the Grey Mountains.  Yet the Orcs soon turned on each other, desirous of the power of the Black Crystal.  One treacherous Orc seized it and, fearful it would be stripped from him, he has fled by mountain tunnel and night march to the distant East, where he thinks none may pursue him.  From afar Alatar spies upon the Orc, and we go now to follow him even unto the shores of the Eastern Sea.”

 

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 EogarVornmir’!  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 EogarVornmir’ 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)

 

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