Part IV: The Fate of the North

 

Scene 1: The Framsburg Front

 

On the 24^th of May the Fellowship finally comes within sight of a settlement of Men.  It is Framsburg, the old capital of Éothéod before it was abandoned by Eorl the Young long ago.  Now the descendents of those Northmen who did not leave the upper Anduin are rebuilding the town.  A party of the town’s horsemen comes upon the companions as they hike up along the Langwell toward Mount Gundabad.  Luládi looks at the men and their horses with a mix of awe and fear.  Never before has she seen horses or Men mounted upon any beast, and she withdraws somewhat fearfully behind Éogar.  She asks him in a low, wary voice, "What manner of folk are these?"  When the lead horseman reveals himself as Herubrand, an old companion to Éogar and Rard, the Rohirric knight calms Luládi’s fear and assures her she is among friendly Men.

 

Herubrand’s first query to his old friends casts a somber mood over the reunion.  Rard looks crestfallen, as if someone had punched him in the stomach and all the air escaped his body.  He lets Éogar explain the fate of Finbor and Frolin.  "We have not heard from them in almost as long as you,” the knight says.  Éogar then goes on to talk of the conclusion of his first mission to the East.  He is careful to speak only of ‘the treasure’ and never mentions the Iron Jewel of Morgoth that tempted so many honorable hearts and brought so much pain to the world.

 

And Heruband weeps, lowering his head into his hands and freely crying for the loss of his old friends.  “We went through much together, and I had hoped that my ancestral sword would preserve Finbor Angbor’s son,” he says in a broken voice.  Wiping away his tears after a painful moment’s pause he continues, “I praise the Holy Ones that you have come to me safely, Vornmir and Rariadoc.  I take solace that you survived the aftermath of that great war to the East.”

 

Rard embraces the big Northman and shares his tears, for long has the absence of Finbor and Frolin troubled the kindly hobbit’s heart.  Éogar consoles his little friend and decides it best to turn attention to the others in his group.  Once Herubrand has regained composure, Éogar introduces him to the Fellowship’s young Gondorian captain.

 

"Well met, Herubrand!" Elboron says.  "It is good to finally meet you.  Rard has told us of the battle of Galleth's Villa so many times I feel as if I already know you."

 

Herubrand smiles and replies, “Little Rard hardly needs an excuse to tell a tale!  But the story he tells you is true.  It was a dire battle, and we were brought through it by the leadership of a noble Man of your kingdom.  You have a measure of him about you, Elboron Faramir’s son, and it does you credit.  Finbor was a great man.”

 

Biárki then steps forward and introduces himself.  "So what quarrel have you with the Men of the East?" he asks.

 

Herubrand nods politely to the dwarf and answers, “Only that they trespass across the Desolation of Smaug at will and make unsafe all Wilderland.  The Easterlings are a wild and desperate people since fall of their Dark Lord, and that desperation makes them dangerous.  Mark my words, King Elessar will have needs to fight another war against the Easterlings before they are broken and brought under any justice.”

 

Biárki nods at this reasonable answer and quickly pushes onto his real concern.  "It is good to hear that dwarves are welcomed in Framsburg,” he says.  “Are there some that live here or may be traveling through?  I would like to share news and perhaps a pipe with my kin."

 

Herubrand replies, “Then you had best follow the Langwell another twelve leagues upriver to the eastern slope of Mount Gundabad.  There you will find your kin in force.  Some few dwarves pass through Framsburg between the Lonely Mountain and Gundabad, but they do not stay long.  Yours is a warlike people, and they do not neglect the siege to stay in Framsburg in comfort.”

 

"Our news and hardship do not end with the disappearance of our old friends," Éogar says to Herubrand.  "We have traveled from the western slope of Gundabad where King Elessar lays siege to the darkness within.  Many of the Shadow's servants have massed there, and we are trying to coordinate an attack with garrison on the eastern slope.  Our journey has been difficult and our supplies are all but gone.  Gundabad has a dark power remaining that is stronger than we had realized."

 

Herubrand nods grimly and says, “Then we have much to talk about.  Come with me to Framsburg.”

 

Elboron readily assents to the request, and Rard is overjoyed at the thought of an actual bed and a real roof over his head.  "You are looking much better than we saw you last.  In fact, I feared the worst," says the hobbit as Herubrand hops back up onto his horse.  "I'd say our reunion calls for a feast.  Lead on to the brace of rabbits cooked with tiny onions and a honey glaze!" 

 

Herubrand smiles and says, “I cannot promise you such a feast, but I will grant you all the hospitality that I can.”

 

Éogar says, walking alongside his friend’s horse, "You must show us your town of Framsburg!  How goes the rebuilding?"

 

Herubrand smiles proudly and replies, “We have cleared away all of the old ruins and built a new settlement of wood and stone, protected by an encircling fence.  Framsburg is not yet the equal of Esgaroth-upon-Long-Lake, but it will grow with time.”

 

The fellowship follows Herubrand’s party to the town which lies some miles more in the distance, arriving at the foresaid fence in the afternoon.  The barrier is mostly a dike with an earth mound behind the trench, and a little wall of stacked stones rises atop the mound.  Wooden gates are places at two points, east and west, in the barrier.  The company enters through the east gate, following the path up onto a gentle slope.  Framsburg is a little town upon a small hill, perhaps two dozen wood-and-stone cottages and halls with thatched roofs.  Indeed, it is not the equal of Lake-town and perhaps not even of Bree.  It is more akin to Archet or one of the other Breeland hamlets, home to no more than 500 people.  They are all fair Northmen alike to Éogar in appearance, and the industrious folk are too busy at work to pay the arrivals much mind.  Framsburg, Heruband explains, oversees a great many hides of land, farming the fertile soil south of the Langwell to the Langflood River.  There are still many Men of the Upper Anduin who farm the land and come to Framsburg to trade but who are not yet residents of the town.  The fertile land north of the Langwell, he says, is yet to be put to good use: so long as the Orcs of the North menace the region, the soil west of the River Greylin will lie fallow.

 

Luládi barely contains her awe at the "great encampment" and its curious inhabitants.  Her fascination with this brave new world does not soon diminish, and she is eager to explore the settlement.  Herubrand regards the young outland woman kindly, and happily points out to her all the sights that are so foreign to her eyes.  Indeed, the Lossoth woman is a new discovery to Herubrand and his folk, who did not even know that people lived beyond the cold Grey Mountains.  “Perhaps when this long war is over, we may have cause to visit the Far North and trade with the Lossoth people,” Herubrand proffers.

 

Presently the travelers come upon the greatest hall in the town, a sturdy wood building that would be a commonplace structure in Edoras.  The Framsburg riders dismount and tether their horses in a small stable, while Herubrand leads the fellowship inside his home.  It is modestly furnished, but the hall is cheered by a roaring fire and friendly servants.  Seeing to the running of the hall is a beautiful Dorwinion woman not much older than Luládi.  Éogar and Rard recognize her as a girl from Galleth’s villa, one of the brave lasses who served as nurses to the wounded.  Herubrand embraces her and introduces her to his guest.  She is his wife; they married after he recovered from his grievous wounds at Galleth’s villa, and together they traveled across Rhovanion to Framsburg.  “When I arrived home,” Herubrand says, “I found my brother Horn gravely ill.  A pestilence came down upon us that season, and scores of our people perished.  When Horn himself died, the people hailed me as thegn in his place.”

 

Herubrand invites his guests to sit at his table, and his wife brings out flagons of beer and trenchers of dried game, hind and conies.  The beer tastes refreshing to the mouths of the Men of the West, though Luládi blanches at the taste and looks rather queasy in the stomach.  The Lossoth woman is quiet throughout the conversation, speaking up only to note how close Framsburg is to Mount Gundabad, wondering if they also have problems with orcs.

 

Rard quickly echoes Luládi inquiry.  "So tell us your tale of the past two years,” he says.  ”And how does Framsburg now?  Any orcs or dragons around?"

 

“Orcs a plenty, but speak not of dragons!  We have troubles enough!” Herubrand replies.  “For most of the past two years, the King of Dale and the King-under-the-Mountain have massed their great armies on the eastern slope of Mount Gundabad, holding a leaguer against the orcs.  It was a welcome undertaking in our eyes, for the Orcs of the North were the greatest hindrance to our efforts to rebuild Framsburg.  Since the coming of the Men of Dale and the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain, we have been spared attacks by orcs.  But it comes at no small cost to us.  The armies are far from their homelands, and they consume a great measure of all the grain and beer my folk produce.”  He blushes and looks down at his table in embarrassment.  “I fear that I can offer you poor hospitality.  This is the last of my beer, and most every loaf baked in the town goes to the siege lines to feed the warriors.”

 

“How many warriors do you have in Framsburg?” Éogar asks, exchanging looks with Elboron.

 

“Less than two hundred men in Framsburg are of age to bear arms,” Herubrand answers.  “Most of them are needed to tend the fields, transport the harvests, mill the flour, and bake the bread.  I keep a guard of two-score men-at-arms, horsemen of lance and bow, but they are needed to patrol the borders, fend off the Easterling raiders, and escort the wagons to the army.”

 

Elboron says to him, “The decisive battle is coming.  What part will you play in it?”

 

Herubrand states without hesitation, “I will lead my hearth-guard up the eastern slope of Gundabad under the banner of the King of Dale.  I who fought a stranger’s fight in Dorwinion would never shirk my own people’s battle at our very doorstep.”

 

The young Gondorian lord nods in understand and presses the thegn no further.  When Éogar begins to ask if there might be any men here who could be recruited to assail the North Gate, either to fight the dragon or the orcs, Elboron gestures for him to relent.  The Men of Framsburg are few in number and limited in resources, and they are already full participants in the war.

 

“Every able soul in Framsburg is employed in the enterprise,” Herubrand says to Éogar.  “If there are any idle men to be found, they would be elsewhere in Northern Rhovanion.  We do some trade with the Men of the Anduin Vales, the Men of Carrock, and the Wood-men by Rhosgobel, but I do not know their disposition.  It is said that the Beornings of Carrock, though they keep to themselves, maintain a constant vigil over the High Pass, near as it is to Goblin-town.  It is a queer realm to my mind and far away, a land of huge spiders and giant eagles.”  He pauses and adds with a smile, “I once had discourse with a giant eagle, a strange event that I do not care to repeat.”

 

Herubrand invites the guests to stay in his hall for as long as they wish, for he has spare rooms with plenty of open beds, with down pillows and soft heather-stuffed mats.  Rard pleads with Elboron to accept the invitation, and the young captain agrees that some few days may be spent in Framsburg.  Elboron knows the Fellowship needs more supplies, and he is loath to ask Herubrand to provide rations he can ill-afford to spare.  He hopes to acquire provender for his party in the town.

 

The next day the companions make their way to the heart of the settlement.  While Elboron searches out vendors who may sell him rations, Biárki insists on visiting the inn and tavern to see if any dwarves may be found there after all.  Luládi comes with him, eager to meet new people though less eager to smell again that strange brew called beer.  Biárki finds a few men and dwarves inside, travelers who pass regularly back and forth between the Gundabad leaguer, Framsburg, Dale, and Erebor.  Biárki regales them with the tale of the Dragon of the North Gate, inviting any bold men to join him in a return journey.  There is glory to be had, and plenty of treasure in the drake’s hoard.  Éogar scowls in disapproval, and whispers to his dwarven friend that attracting greedy followers would do no good.  Indeed, the dwarves who hear Biárki’s story are attracted to the idea of gold, though they clearly are not warriors.  Elboron soon dissuades their interest and says to Biárki, "If any here wish to fight, they should join the siege and kill orcs.  I will not have treasure-seekers joining this Fellowship."  Biárki grouses at the parsimony of Men and spends the rest of the day buying tankards of ale for his fellow dwarves, paying out all his copper coins but not drinking anything himself.

 

Elboron finds the town market abuzz with activity, mostly the preparation and dispatch of caravans to Gundabad.  The local trade in flour, honey, cheese, vinegar, and oil takes second place, and prices are badly inflated by the twin pressures of scarcity and demand.  He finds one vendor willing to sell some of his stock to a traveler.  [Inspire test, failure] The young lord tries to appeal to the vendor’s duty, explaining that he travels on the king’s business, but the merchant shrugs him off and says he has plenty of local mouths to feed.  In the end Elboron has no choice but to pay a silver penny for each day of dry rations, quadruple what he might normally pay, and he has to beg the merchant for the privilege of buying every morsel.  [Persuade test, complete success] At most the vendor sells him enough flour, cheese, and honey to last the five members of his company four days.  It costs him all of his gold pennies.  He stalks off with a sack of acquired foodstuffs, feeling poor and robbed for the first time in his life.

 

Rard finds the day more enjoyable than his Gondorian friend.  The hobbit instead heads down to the river, where he finds some of Herubrand’s folk fishing and working on boats.  [Persuade (Fast Talk), complete success] He manages to talk one of them into lending him a fishing line and hook, plus a little bait; in return, he promises to share half his catch with the man.  [Survival test, complete success] Rard relaxes on the riverbank, dangling the hook in the water and steadily pulling out salmons of varying size.  By the end of the day has a full ten big fishes, but true to his word he gives five to the man who lent him the tools.  Proud of himself, the hobbit carries the gutted fishes back to Herubrand’s hall, and in the kitchen he has them salted and smoked.  The catch renders enough food to feed all five members of the fellowship for one day.

 

On the morning of May the 26^th, the companions rise and enjoy a light morning meal with Herubrand.  The meals grow smaller each time, and it becomes obvious to the guests that they are eating their host out of house and home.  Herubrand’s wife is “too busy” to sit down and eat, and Herubrand himself is “sick to his stomach” and not hungry.  The servants, too, are looking a little lean.  The thegn invites his friends, new and old, to stay with him and eat their fill, but the companions know they will need to move on.  Though where they will go next is yet to be decided…

 

 

Scene 2: A Pair of Kings

 

The fellowship enjoys a few days’ respite in Framsburg, staying in the hall of Thegn Herubrand.  It soon becomes clear that the guests are a burden on the household’s strained resources, and by the morning of May 26^th they all agree it is best to depart.  Biárki thanks the mistress of the household for her hospitality, kind words she repays with a gentle smile.  Herubrand joins the companions as they debate their course, and he provides them with a tolerable map of the region when it is requested.

 

Biárki takes the map first, determined to thank his host by pointing out a danger he may have overlooked.  The dwarf-warrior plants his thumb on the Grey Mountains pass by the Greylin source-water and says, "Orcs have previously sent warg-riders through similar passes to sneak attack unprotected targets while a battle took place elsewhere."  Biárki glances at Herubrand's beautiful wife and says no more.

 

It is a look that Herubrand gauges well its meaning.  “I will dispatch scouts to watch the pass,” he says.  “If orcs attempt to come through it, we will lock up our town and send warning to the armies on Mount Gundabad’s eastern slope.”  The dwarf nods once with a grunt, satisfied that there is little more the Men of Framsburg can do.

 

Elboron next takes the map and states, "Our first priority is to get word to the army at the East Gate.  After that, I see two options.”  He traces one route north on the map with a finger and says, “We could return the way we came, crossing Forodwaith and entering the North Gate, but we would be forced to face the dragon once more."  Passing his finger south along the map he says, “The other option would be to find a boat, travel downriver to Carrock, then over the High Pass, and north to the Grand Muster's encampment.  On the way we could speak to the Men of the Anduin Vales and the Beornings of Carrock.  The path would be longer, but less dangerous.”  He looks up from the map.  "What say you?" he asks the others.

 

Éogar answers, "For the time, our task is to reach the lines of the Eastern Slope.  We should consider our next course of action after that.  He sighs and adds, "It may be that facing the dragon is our only chance of getting back in time."  Biárki concurs, and expresses hope Nurin will bring a company of dwarves to the North Gate—if word can be brought to the dwarf-lord beforehand.

 

Rard pours over the map, calculating distances and carefully estimating possible travel times.  After a while he says, "I am torn.  We need to rally more aid to the cause, so venturing south makes sense.  But, the North Gate cleared of the Dragon would be a great boon.  We could keep the orcs out of the secret path by blocking the entrance from the North Gate.”

 

"Not necessarily would this be a boon," Éogar cautions.  "The dragon did not seem to care for the orcs.  He required a tribute from them in order to let them pass.  I daresay that it is likely in a fouler mood now: any orc who dares to bother an injured dragon is likely to have more trouble than he wished."  The knight’s gaze passes to an empty chair at the table, wishing it were filled by the wise Gilavas who could surely offer sage council now.  He lowers his head and adds, "But, for all we know the dragon will join the orcs to strike back at King Elessar's army.  It did know that is who we represented, yes?"

 

Rard flushes red and nods.  "We introduced ourselves, so he knows where we came from as well," he says.  Frustration builds on the hobbit's face as he moans, "And he will likely tell the orcs that we know of the secret path, so they might decide to attack the King’s camp now!"  Biárki tries to console his hobbit friend, explaining that such things are beyond their control.  Rard nods after a time and replies, “If such a thing has already happened, there is naught we can do about it.  I hope our quest is not in vain, with the Army of the North already under attack by dragons and orcs.”

 

"We do not need to face the Dragon of Gundabad again so soon," Éogar reminds his little friend, hoping to cheer him.  "Nurin has waited a long time—he can wait a while longer for me to face the beast.  I would like to have him at my side as well.  It is his rightful claim, regardless of the deception with which he treated our group."

 

Herubrand makes a fearful noise and says, “When you first mentioned a dragon, Rard, I had hoped it was in jest.  That a dragon dwells in Mount Gundabad is terrible news indeed.  Though I would be glad to have it slain, I would not wish dear friends to risk their lives in such a task.”  The Northman thegn then passes his gaze to young Luládi and asks, “What of this fair Maid of the North?  She may stay in Framsburg, if she wishes.  Our orc-quarrels are not hers.”

 

Elboron gazes at the beautiful young Lossoth woman, who is so alike to his mother yet different.  Luládi looks back and after a time says, "You travel now into lands that are strange to me, and I can no longer guide you.  Still, if it is your will to hunt the orcs then I will gladly accompany you on this journey."  Herubrand nods once, accepting her brave decision.

 

The talk of strange lands reminds Éogar of something that Herubrand mentioned previously.  “Herubrand, the day we arrived you mentioned to us that once you discoursed with a Great Eagle.”

 

Herubrand nods and replies, “Drugwae was his name, a Great Eagle of the Misty Mountains sent by Elrond of Rivendell to bring me word of your mission far to the East.”

 

"Do the Eagles have an aerie or can they be approached somehow?" Éogar asks him.  "Rard's stories tell of wizards who could summon their aid in times of need."

 

“Aye, I too have heard of wizards summoning them with a message borne by a moth, but I think such tales are lies invented by twisted storytellers,” Herubrand returns.  “How wizards truly commune with the great birds is beyond my knowledge.  But, it is known that the Great Eagles keep a nest high in the peaks above the eastern end of the High Pass over the Misty Mountains, some fifteen leagues west of Carrock on the Anduin.  There the Eagles keep watch over Goblin-town below.  It is said that a hundred years ago Goblin-town was a foul darkhold of orcs until a mighty wizard and his company of dwarves passed through and broke their power.”

 

Rard clears his throat and adds, “I do believe there was a famous hobbit among that company.”

 

Herubrand smiles in innocent ignorance and continues, “The Men of the Anduin Vales still see the Great Eagles from time to time.  Those who venture to climb the mountains beyond the High Pass may encounter them, and those who incur their wrath come to regret it.  They are wise beasts and speak the tongues of Men, but I had the good sense not to try Drugwae’s patience.  They are wild as the wind and not to be treated lightly.”

 

Éogar looks to Elboron and offers one alternate course: The fellowship could spend more time in Northern Rhovanion trying to muster the Men to arms, and word could be sent to King Elessar by a Great Eagle—if one could be found and convinced to undertake the charge.  He concludes, “We would assault the East Gate here with these Men and dwarves and meet our brethren in the middle after flushing out the foul orcs.”

 

Elboron nods in thought, considering both Éogar’s proposition and Rard’s carefully constructed timeline of possible journeys.  In the end he decides to postpone the decision until the fellowship’s first task is fulfilled—to bring word to the King of Dale and the King-under-the-Mountain on Gundabad’s east slope.

 

The companions inform Herubrand that they will depart this very morning and ask his counsel about how to travel.  Is a riverboat available to go to the siege line?  Would a riverboat be available to take them down the Anduin in subsequent days?  Herubrand answers, “Framsburg has a small number of barges that are poled and towed upstream to the encampment of the armies, but they carry great loads and are slow.  The Langwell is a very swift stream, and you are better to walk upland to the mountain spurs.”  He pauses before addressing the second query: “A few merchants maintain riverboats to convey trade between Framsburg, the Anduin Vales, Carrock, and beyond.  You may be able to convince one of them to give you passage—for a price.”  He adds in a sheepish tone, “I have no authority to command the disposition of their property, and the generosity of traders is strained during times like these.  They will not freely give that which commands a good price.”  Elboron nods, still glowering over the vast sum of treasure he spent procuring a small amount of foodstuffs from the traders in Framsburg.

 

*   *   *

 

The companions bid farewell to Herubrand and his wife.  Following his advice, they march out through the west gate and hike along the riverbank to the west, upland toward the mountain spurs.  Even at the hard pace kept to by the travelers ever since they left the Lossoth camp, it becomes clear to Rard that his hopes of reaching the siege lines in one day is unrealistic.  The distance is around 40 miles over fairly rough terrain, undulating riverbank that grows increasingly hilly as the elevation rises toward the mountains spurs.  By the end of the day the companions have made it only half the distance, and they have consumed the salted fish caught previously by Rard.  Fortunately, fresh water is plentiful: the travelers need only dip their skins in the nearby stream to draw their fill from the swift, cold water.  The next morning they continue their journey, passing into the foot-hills beneath the eastern slope of Mount Gundabad.  From time to time they pass other travelers: once they spot a river barge floating downstream back to Framsburg after having dropped off supplies to the army, and another time they pass a party of horsemen riding down-country to Framsburg.  The riders are Herubrand’s scouts who claim to bear urgent news and cannot be bothered to stop and talk with travelers.

 

By nightfall on the 27^th of May, the companions come within sight of a great armed encampment drawn across the eastern spurs of Mount Gundabad, blockading the slope up to the East Gate.  It required another day at a hard pace, and Elboron was compelled to feed his friends out of the foodstuffs purchased in Framsburg—leaving him with enough to provide the five travelers with three more days of sustenance.  In the distance the flickering glow of hundreds of campfires can be seen, the Elboron enjoins his friends to redouble their effort to reach the camp before the sun disappears altogether beyond the mountain.  Finally, under the pale light of a partial moon and cloud-obscured stars, the travelers reach the outer pickets.  A squad of Dale-men, armored in leather cuirasses and bearing long pikes, intercepts the travelers.  The watch-sergeant demands that they halt and identify themselves.

 

“I am Elboron Faramir’s son, with a company sent by King Elessar from across Mount Gundabad,” the young lord states with noble bearing.  “We bring urgent news for the King of Dale and the King of Erebor.”  The sergeant does not doubt the truth of Elboron’s words, given his lordly demeanor and knowledgeable claims.  A guard is tasked to guide the fellowship through the camp to the tents of the commanders.  As Elboron and Éogar follow, they do their best to count the fires and tents.  It seems to them that there cannot be more than 2,000 fighters in the camp, with the Men of Dale outnumbering the Dwarves of Erebor by nearly two-to-one.  It is a total force less than half the size of King Elessar’s Grand Muster, suited only to blockade the narrows between the spurs and prevent the orcs from sallying down the eastern slope.  Were this small force to assail the East Gate unaided, without a simultaneous attack against the West Gate, the Men and Dwarves surely would be slaughtered.

 

At last the travelers are brought to a great pavilion in the heart of the encampment, with torches on high poles all around.  The guard throws open one of the cloth flaps, revealing a great table inside.  Standing around it are a party of tall and grim Men, one of whom wears a golden crown, and a band of stout dwarves, one of whom bears a mithril diadem.  As they draw near, the companions overhear the end of a debate between the dwarven-king and the King of the Men.  “I grant the justice of your words, my friend, but I cannot much longer deny my folk their due,” the dwarf says.  “If they do not see battle by the end of the summer, they will return to the Lonely Mountain of their own accord.  I am their king and captain, but I am no tyrant who can break the back of a mutiny by my entire host.  They hunger for battle.”  The other dwarves around him grunt in approval.

 

“My lords,” the guard says, bowing deeply as he interrupts the debate.  “Messengers have come from King Elessar across the mountain.”  He stands aside to let the fellowship file past him and then says to the travelers, “You come before their lordships Bard the Second, King of Dale, and Thorin the Third, King-under-the-Mountain.”  The guard bows once more to the kings and then retreats back to his post.

 

King Bard turns to face the arrivals and says, “We welcome emissaries from King Elessar!”

King Thorin nods and says curtly, “What news do you bring for us?”

 

 

Scene 3: Grim Counsel

 

On the night of May the 27^th, well over a month since they first set out from the King Elessar’s encampment, the Fellowship of Forlorn Hope has finally reached its primary goal: the allied camp beleaguering the eastern slope of Mount Gundabad.  King Bard of Dale and King Thorin of Erebor are holding council when the travelers are brought before them.

 

The fellowship’s young captain bows his head to the kings and says, "I am Elboron son of Faramir of Gondor.  We bring greetings from King Elessar, my lords.”  Elboron then turns to his comrades and introduces them one by one.  Luládi and Biárki are both silent, each for their own reason.  The Lossoth woman is a strange foreigner in these lands and dares not speak to mighty lords who command so many warriors arrayed with hardened leather and steel.  Biárki knows well these lands, and his reputation precedes him.

 

The King of Dale receives the visitors with generous words, but King Thorin chooses to regard only Biárki.  “We have not heard your name in the halls of the Lonely Mountain these past two years, Biárki Biárlin’s son,” he says.  The lordly dwarf levels a stern gaze on Biárki, who bows his head and holds his tongue.  “You left us on another vain quest to retake Moria, and now we find you in the fight for Mount Gundbad.  It is well that you have come to realize Moria will not enter into the hands of Durin’s Folk by your efforts alone.”

 

“Khazad-dûm will one day be home to our people again,” Biárki replies in a low voice.

 

“Aye, but you are not fated to bring it about.  Prophecy destines another,” Thorin Stonehelm says.  “Only death awaits you in Moria, Biárlin’s son.  That will not bring back Balin or his people.  Better that you spend your blood in service to work that can be achieved in our lifetime.”  The dwarf-king then passes his gaze over the others and waves in a vague gesture.  “Enough of this talk,” he says.  “Now tell us what you have come to say.”

 

Rard frowns as the dwarf-king pays him no heed, nor does the King of Dale correct the dwarf.  “I guess this Thorin is not unlike his namesake, who did not take much account of hobbits until his end,” Rard whispers to his friend Éogar.  The knight presses his finger to his lips.

 

The King of Dale offers a low chuckle and says in a gentle voice, “May I have the good fortune to be like my namesake!  Girion’s Line has never forgotten that honorable hobbit who befriended Bard of old in the dark days.”  It is enough to mollify Rard, who flashes a little smile and bows awkwardly to the king.

 

Éogar takes a step forward and speaks: "We also bear word of a great assault on Gundabad in the coming months.”

 

Elboron moves to his side and explains, “King Elessar is planning to attack the Western Gate of Gundabad on the first day of October.  He requests that you also launch an attack on the Eastern Gate that same day.  Only by attacking on multiple fronts may we find victory.  Will you join the battle?"

 

Bard and Thorin exchanged surprised looks.  “This is a bold move and unexpected.  The last messenger from the West brought news of a reverse suffered by the royal army,” says Bard.

 

“Messengers also brought word of the reverse to Gondor and Rohan, and during the past year reinforcements have come to bolster the King’s army,” Éogar replies.

 

King Bard nods and looks to Thorin, who regards the visitors wryly.  “You ask us to delay another four months!” he growls.  “The King of Dale has been loath to test the enemy strength at the East Gate, and my folk have grown wroth with waiting.”

 

"Yes, we overhead that you dwarves were planning to leave by the end of the summer, but King Elessar needs everyone to wait until October the 1^st to ensure that the assault will be coordinated.  There is not time to reschedule—do you think you could convince them to wait?" Rard queries.

 

Thorin Stonehelm balks at being so addressed by a hobbit.  He snorts, “Dwarves' schedules are not set by Men or hobbits!”

 

Elboron raises his hand in a gesture of calm and says, "My lords, the orcs sit in their holes content in the belief that they can outlast our siege.  And they are correct: The host on the west side of the mountain will not be able to sustain its siege through another winter.  We either win this battle, or we fail."

 

[Debate (Negotiate) tests, +1 affinity for Persuade (Oratory): Éogar, failure (no modifier to Elboron); Elboron, failure] Elboron negotiates with persuasive words, and his mein of deference appeals to these lords, but he asks of them great trust to undertake a grave risk.  After a long pause Bard says, “The Men of Dale will do their duty.  We will keep the leaguer and launch our attack on the 1^st of October.”

 

Thorin Stonehelm thinks long and hard before he speaks: “You ask more than I can promise.  Durin’s Folk will not leave Gundabad without a fight, of that you can be certain!  But, we have already held this leaguer for more than a year and I cannot warrant the mood of my people any longer.  I will speak to my folk and present your case, but I cannot give you any assurances they will wait until October.”

 

Elboron and Éogar protest that any earlier attack by the dwarves alone would be for naught and that their best service would be to fight alongside their Dale-men allies on the stated date.  Bard agrees and encourages Thorin to try to persuade the dwarves, but his tepid words suggest that even he no longer believes the wrath of the dwarves can be contained.  Despite these interventions, Thorin Stonehelm is unmovable.  “I have spoken, and will not be compelled to accede to the judgment of Men!” he snaps.  He then glares at the visitors and says, “If you have said all that you have come to say then this council is done.”

 

"There are other matters of concern," announces Éogar in a darker tone.  The knight then relates the tale of the hidden pass, of Nurin and Stiffbeard Mansion, of the North Gate and the dragon.  “We must return to King Elessar in time to tell him that all plans are in place," Éogar concludes.

 

“A dragon!” King Bard exclaims.  “Indeed has Mount Gundabad fallen under the grip of darkness.  Would that my forefather were here to slay it with the Black Arrow!”  After a somber moment Bard finishes, “You must return to the western encampment and report to your King.  Your company may stay among the Men of Dale for as long as you need before departing.  Our quartermaster will provide you with what provender and assistance as can be spared.”

 

Thorin grunts and says, “It was foolhardy to rile the dragon.  Who can say now what is the disposition of the North Gate?”  He then looks at Éogar and adds, “Finish your counsel and then be off.”

 

The knight meets the dwarf-king’s steady gaze and responds, "We feel that your troops must be strengthened.  There is a darkness in Gundabad that has gathered a powerful host from the fallen Shadow.  Our troops were not prepared on the western slope.”

 

“There are no more dwarves in all Wilderland who can be gathered under arms,” Thorin states.  “Let your friend Nurin return to East of East and gather a host of Ironfists.  Durin’s Folk have already done enough.”

 

Bard nods in grim agreement.  “I have brought all the men who can be spared from Dale and Esgaroth.  If reinforcements are needed, they must be found elsewhere and sent to our camp.  On October the 1^st, I will march up the slope with whatever Men—and dwarves—will join me.”

 

*   *   *

 

The companions are escorted out of the pavilion by a pair of guards, who then guide them to the camp of the Dale-men.  The mood is low, for their charge has been only partly successful.  It remains to be seen whether Thorin will be able to convince his dwarves to participate in King Elessar’s strategy—or even if Thorin himself will assent.  Some of the comrades suggest remaining to try to persuade Thorin, or at least some of his dwarves, of the need to cooperate, but Elboron realizes they have already made what case they may.  Doing any further would require them to stay in this camp until October, interceding each and every time the volatile passions of the dwarves changed.  The captain decides that the company will depart in the morning—there is no point in remaining here any longer.

 

“Our duty is to return to the King's camp,” Elboron states.  But by what path should the fellowship return to him?  Elboron lays out his vision of traveling south to the Anduin Vales then west across the Misty Mountains.  He counsels his friends, “Facing the dragon again would be a foolish, unnecessary risk.  If the Dragon defeats us, or if the orcs have moved more troops into the canyon, our message will not reach the King's ears.”

 

"I too would rather not chance the North Gate again.  We know what is there and it is the greatest risk to completing our quest," says Éogar.  Rard sighs, admitting disappointment at the thought of undertaking another long, hard overland journey so soon.  Yet he relents and agrees with Elboron’s decision.

 

The companions are given tents to sleep in, and what dinner remains in the army’s cooking pots.  Most of the travelers lay down to sleep as soon as they have eaten, but Éogar and Rard decide to spend some time among the troops.  Éogar visits the guards and tries to converse with them about the region, hoping to learn more about the other Men of Northern Rhovanion.  [Inquire test, failure] Alas, he possesses no skill in such speech and is unable to convince the guards to say much; either they do not know much about the other men, or Éogar’s taciturn questions fail to elicit what they know.  Rard, on the other hand, joins the soldiers gathered around campfires, joining in the games of chance they play to while away the night hours.  They are surprised to meet a hobbit but pleased, for the tale of Bilbo Baggins has become folklore in this land.  [Games test, failure] The hobbit hopes to gamble with the soldiers for some of their supplies—a bedroll, an iron pot, pipeweed, or at least some decent victuals.  Alas, the Men are as cagy gamblers as the hobbit and hold their own.  Out of charity they share a smoke with him from their pipes and offer him a few morsels to snack on while they play, but Rard wins nothing from them.  [Inquire (Converse) test, marginal success] After the games are done, Rard speaks with some soldiers about the surrounding countryside.  They tell him little that is news to him, that the rivers are plentiful with fish and that game becomes more plentiful the closer one comes to the Wood of the Greenleaves.  Rard at last retires to the tent, missing his old bedroll but grateful for the fur blanket given him by the Lossoth.

 

On the morrow the companions rise and join the Men of Dale for a morning meal in camp, hot porridge and hard cider.  Afterwards, Elboron and Éogar approach the quartermaster, relating King Bard’s commandment.  Word was sent to him, and the quartermaster listens to what is needed.  The men request as many days of provisions as can be spared, and a pack animal if one is available.  [Debate (Negotiate), +1 affinity for Persuade; Éogar = marginal success (+1 to Elboron); Elboron, complete success] The quartermaster balks at the scope of the request, since five travelers who plan on traversing nearly 800 miles need quite a large amount of provender—perhaps 150 man-days’ worth.  In the end, the quartermaster consents to provide only half of the amount, 15 days’ worth for each traveler.  As for a pony or mule, the quartermaster explains that it is quite impossible to part with even one, for every beast is needed to cart in provender from across Wilderland.  The supply clerks issue bundles of wrapped way-bread with dried fish and fruit, on the order of fifteen pounds to each of the companions.  So put-out is the quartermaster that Rard has no hope of bothering him for a bedroll or extra arrows.  Elboron thanks the quartermaster, but in his heart he is disappointed.

 

The fellowship leaves the camp by late morning and returns downriver to Framsburg.  The hike down-country is easier, and the travelers reach the town before twilight on May the 29^th.  They are saddened to learn that Herubrand is gone: He has taken Biárki’s advice and led a patrol to the low pass through the Grey Mountains.  Nonetheless, his wife dutifully offers them beds in his hall; the companions make sure to eat their last meal from their rations before turning in and to depart the next morning before breakfast so as not to tax the goodly woman’s resources any further.  Early on the morning of May the 30^th, they walk to the humble riverbank docks south of the town where Elboron hopes to find passage for the fellowship down the Anduin.  While the young lord talks with some boat pilots, Rard visits the fishermen and tries to convince one of them to sell him a line and hook for a reasonable price.  [Persuade (Fast Talk), complete success] It turns out that one old fisherman has an extra line and hook sitting around, and he is so taken by the loquacious hobbit that he agrees to sell it at no profit for a couple silver pennies.

 

Elboron finds himself once again haggling with men motivated by profit, and it is all the hotheaded young man can do to rein in his temper.  Only one pilot is willing to undertake a boat journey down the Anduin to the Carrock, and he insists that two silver pennies a head is a bargain in these dangerous times.  [Debate (Negotiate) test, failure] Elboron is unable to get the pilot to budge on his price and reluctantly hands over ten silver pennies, almost the last of his money.  Rard shows that he has nothing but a few coppers left, and the only ‘money’ that Luládi carries is two little pieces of exotic ivory.

 

The pilot takes the money, agreeing to set off later that day.  The boat is barely large enough for the five companions plus the small crew, but it is sufficient.  Fortune does favor the travelers over the next few days.  A good, brisk northwester billows the little sail most of the time, and the boat makes about 10 miles an hour, on average.  Absent other commands from his client, the pilot spends about 8 hours a day on the river, then beaches it at night and camps on the bank.  He provides no food, of course, so the companions are compelled to dig into their supply of rations.  Rard complains that if they but spent a few hours each time in one spot he could fish for food, but Elboron seems to feel that time is of the essence.

 

By the afternoon of May the 31^st, the boat comes upon a wide, verdant islet in the middle of a wide expanse of the Great River.  The river is much too wide at this point to support any bridge, and the water is much too swift to be forded as it sweeps around the sides of the islet and pours down the southern slope in a rapids.  The only way to reach the broad islet is by boat, and little wooden piers dot the shore.  Numerous rafts and rowboats are tied to the jetties, and a small settlement of wood huts can be seen in the heart of the isle.  The pilot explains that this unnamed islet is a gathering place for the Men of the nearby Anduin Vales, a trading post that over the years has grown into a little thorp.  The Aldermen of the Vales frequently meet here, too, to work out trade and share news.  Elboron instructs the pilot to tether the boat to a pier and take a rest; he and his crew are happy to do so.

 

The companions step off the boat and make their way to the thorp, where around a hundred people look to be present.  The buildings are very humble, wooden shacks with thatched huts, but at least they are solid and permanent.  Most of the residents are golden-haired Northmen like the Men of Framsburg, but they show no great surprise at seeing Rard.  Indeed, when they spot him they usually are overheard commenting that Rard must be “one of the little river-folk” who fish the waters in the nearby dales.  Rard is surprised to hear such talk until he recalls that Sméagol, who became poor Gollum, was originally from this land, and his people, the few remnants of the Stoors who did not cross over to the Shire in the Third Age, must still be nearby.  The visitors also overhear talk about the Aldermen—several are gathered together at the thorp’s humble hall to discuss the threats facing Wilderland these days.

 

Elboron leads the group to the largest building that can only be the hall.  There are no guards or soldiers, though most folk here carry knives or small hatchets—tools rather than weapons.  When no clerk or scribe or watchman can be found, Elboron shrugs and knocks on the closed door.  There is some clamor inside and a moment later the door inches open.  An old grey-haired man sticks his head out and snaps, “What foolery disturbs us now?”  When he sees a party of armed travelers of various races, led by a noble youth of great bearing, he stares wide-eyed and shuts his mouth.  The old man pulls open the door and steps back, so that the handful of other old men inside can see who has arrived.  They, too, all stare.  Finally one man says, “Who are you?”

 

“I am Elboron Faramir’s son, with a company of emissaries from King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor.  May we speak?”  The old men nod and gesture for the party to join them at their rickety log table.

 

 

Scene 4: The Call of Wilderland

 

On the afternoon of May the 31^st, the Fellowship of Forlorn Hope comes before a gathering of Aldermen of the Anduin Vales.  The humble aged men, distant descends of the Éothéod of old, are stunned to see so strange a company of emissaries come before them.  It is Éogar who speaks first, the accent of his tongue not dissimilar from these northern folk.  He says, "Men of the Anduin Vales, your people gave birth to mine, the Riders of Rohan to the South.  Our common ancestry gives us independence, strength, honor, and valor.  But, with this great gift from our past comes responsibility.  This fall, the Reunited Kingdom of the Free Peoples will do battle with the great evil host remaining in Mount Gundabad.  Terrible is this enemy and powerful since the fall of the Shadow—it will loom over these lands more and more should the attack fail.”

 

“You speak the truth, for the Orcs of the North upon occasion raid all the lands down the Anduin, at times to Carrock and even beyond,” replies one Alderman.

 

“That Mount Gundabad is a grave danger to Wilderland we cannot deny,” says another.  “But, what can we do, who are only fishermen, farmers, herders of horses?”

 

Éogar answers, "We ask your aid, like the Men of the Mark already have given.  We need you to rally your troops and assist the assault on the Eastern Gate of the Darkhold.  Only together can we fell the evil that remains inside and make your lands, as well as all others that fall near Mount Gundabad, safer."  [Persuade (Oratory) combined test, +3 from Courage, superior success]

 

Most of the aldermen nods in sympathy, listening more closely to what the emissaries have come to tell them.  “We do not keep a body of men-at-arms in the Anduin Vales,” says the leading alderman.  “The Men of every vale are free holders, who gather to arms of their own accord when cause arises.  We cannot command them but only sound the call.”

 

“Mount Gundabad is nearly 50 leagues from here,” a skeptical alderman notes.  “Why should we call to arms our folk for such a distant quarrel?  What do you ask of us?”

 

"I am from the distant Shire,” Rard says, describing his far-off homeland that is contributing to the war effort.  He continues, introducing his comrades, “Elboron is from distant Gondor, and Éogar, Luládi, and Biárki are also from distant places.”  He looks to all the aldermen and urges, “We are all banding together to fight off what remains of the dark ones.  We are asking that you gather what fighters you have, that arrive at the battleground by September 25^th, and that you have food for two weeks while there.”  [Persuade combined test, superior success] It is a reasonable case made in reasoned language, and the murmurs reactions of the aldermen suggest that they are seriously considering the request.

 

Elboron now speaks: "Victory is no sure thing.  Particularly on the eastern side of the mountain, our forces have a desperate need for more brave Men to take up arms in defense of their homes.  For the consequences of defeat are too terrible to contemplate.  The entire Upper Anduin would be at risk.  Will you stand with us, brothers?"  [Persuade (Oratory) test, +2 from Éogar, +2 from Rard, +3 from Courage, extraordinary success]

 

The aldermen immediately put the proposition to a vote, and the men readily and overwhelmingly agree to join the war effort.  Only a couple men are hesitant, but they quickly come around for the sake of unity with the rest of their people.  The elders seem to be thoroughly convinced that the fight against Mount Gundabad is a necessary fight for their land.  “We will raise the call for volunteers from all the Vales,” says the leading alderman.  “They will come with spear and axe, some on foot and some on horse, in their hundreds.  I pledge a hundred men or more from my Vale.”  This fellows follow suit, some proclaiming that the can muster fifty from their own households, others saying that two hundred men will be arms in the name of their Vales.

 

“We will return to our Vales and then send word to the Vales whose aldermen are not here today,” says the leading man.  “But, who will gather together the men into one host?  Who will train them as a body and convince them not to return to their homes, until the force moves out?  We have experience as leaders of our folk, but never have we marshaled an army for a foreign war.”

 

Éogar says, “I will beg leave of my captain to stay with your people, if you will have me.”  The aldermen nods in agreement, impressed to have one of the long-sundered Eorlings to marshal their host.

 

The islet village contains a few hostels for visiting aldermen and other stately travelers, and the elders set some aside for the fellowship.  Whoever will stay here will have a roof, drink, and food provided them.  As the companions depart from the meeting hall, they discuss their own state of provisions and what courses lay before them.  Rard is most concerned about foodstuffs, and Éogar too realizes more will be needed for a long journey.  Yet he is loath to trouble these people further, when their energies are being directed toward mobilizing men for war.  "None should need to give so much in these days," he notes, but recommends nonetheless that the company requisition rations from the Anduin Vales.  However, Elboron perceives the difficulty and decides not to make any further requests—the fellowship will need to fend for itself.

 

Éogar is first to propose that the fellowship divide, the better to essay multiple goals.  He explains that someone is needed here to make sure the Men of the Anduin Vales gather in force and keep together in camp.  "We must see as many people as we can reach the Eastern Gate.  I must stay to ensure that happens so much the better,” he says.  The time will also give him chances to hunt along the river, hopefully stockpiling venison for the fellowship’s supply.  Elboron nods in thought, and soon agrees with him.  Éogar will stay, Elboron will press on to the Carrock, and the others may do as they will.  The young captain suggests that Rard remain with his old friend Éogar, which pleases the hobbit very much—eager as he is to find the exotic hobbits who are supposed to live by the rivers in this region.  Biárki tacitly assents to follow Elboron, but Luládi is not keen to go any further by boat.  She is struck by the wonders of this trading settlement and wishes to stay.  That night the companions share one last meal together, and in the morning Elboron and Biárki return to the boat, sailing south down the Anduin toward Carrock.

 

Staying behind in the settlement, Éogar, Rard, and Luládi wait for the fighting volunteers to start assembling.  The aldermen return to their vales to raise the call, urging their friends to come to the islet and hear Éogar speak his case.  In the meantime, they spend their days doing minor business in the thorp, fishing, and hunting.  Rard, who has little money left to him, begs his new friends for some useful items—he would like an iron cooking kit again, and a healer’s kit too.  [Persuade (Fast Talk), marginal success] This is not a rich thorp, but there are herbs, balms, and bandages in plenty; one of the aldermen sees to it that a healer’s kit is put together for the hobbit.  However, iron pots and pans have great value here, and no-one consents to part with them out of mere charity.  Luládi also visits the marketplace and comes to greatly enjoy this activity called shopping, which is a new experience to her.  Finding her Lossoth garments out of place in this land, she speaks with clothiers in the market and offers them one of her little seal-ivories in trade.  The fair maid from Forodwaith smiles kindly to the old craftsman, whose heart is touched by her exotic beauty.  [Persuade test, +4 Fair, complete success] The clothier has never seen seal-ivory before and is greatly excited by its worth, and he decides more than anything he wishes to see Luládi is his best garments.  He dresses her in a fine outfit, a lovely cloth gown, light hosiery, girded with a pretty belt, a bright cloth cape, and a pair of leather walking shoes.  The Lossoth maid cannot help but giggle in delight, and the old man is pleased.

 

When fighting men begin to arrive along the riverbank, Éogar and Rard cross the Anduin to speak to them.  Éogar orders the forming of a great bivouac, where he proclaims to the volunteers the justice of the cause.  Those who will stay now, he begins to train in the ways of the battlefield.  He hopes that by the time he departs, the Men of the Anduin Vales will have some worthy captains among their number.  Though over the next many days more and more men respond to the call raised by their aldermen, they are not bound to open.  Éogar speaks to each visiting deputation, hoping to convince them to join the September muster.  [Persuade (Oratory), +3 from Courage [0 remaining], superior success] Rard and Luládi are impressed by the eloquence and passion of the knight’s words.  Never before have they heard him speak so much or so well.  The Men of the Anduin Vales, too, are impressed, and most of them swear oaths to come back for the September muster.  Many also stay in the bivouac for a time, to be drilled in war by Éogar.  Éogar guesses that most men of fighting age in the Vales have pledged to fight, and he has hope that perhaps 1,000 warriors will be sent to the eastern slope of Gundabad in September.

 

Rard watches the coming and going of so many men, and notes that a sizable battalion is already forming in the riverbank encampment.  Since it is already mid-June, the hobbit urges Éogar to send a detachment to the leaguer of the East Gate now, as a sign to King Bard and King Thorin that help is coming.  The knight fears to push his chances any further—he has already asked much of these men, and he decides avoids ordering them to attempt any missions before September.  Rard, too, is worried about Framsburg, thinking on the poverty of Herubrand’s house and the high cost of food.  Could not the Anduin Vales send more provisions to Framsburg or the leaguer of the East Gate, as a donation to the war effort?  Éogar perceives how much food is being consumed by the men in his bivouac, and knows much more will be needed for the September muster.  To him, what Rard suggests in unnecessary for the war and unfair to the Men of the Anduin Vales, and he refuses to ask them.

 

Rard is not too put out by Éogar decisions, and he tells his friend that he wishes to see more of the Anduin Vales.  Here there are supposed to dwell hobbits long sundered from their kin in the Shire, and he longs to meet them.  Along the way they can hunt and fish.  Éogar feels that that gathering of troops is well under way and that he can spare a short absence.  Leaving Luládi behind with her new friends in the marketplace, Éogar and Rard cross the river and hike into the lowland river country to the southwest.  Most of the Men of the Anduin Vales dwell a little further north, and the friends encounter few of them.  They find the lands fairly fertile, stocked with fish and fowl and some game.  Finding hobbits is a different matter, since they do not know where to look.  [Track combined test, failure] Despite their combined efforts, they uncover only a few old signs of the presence of halflings—tiny tracks in the mud, little traps and nets.  They spend some days wandering the area looking for hobbit villages secreted away near the Misty Mountains but uncover nothing.  It seems that hobbits in this part of the world are as good at remaining hidden as the hobbits in the West.  [Survival combined test, marginal success] On the way back the friends hunt and fish as they may, but their luck turns bad.  The weather is rainy, and often there is fog.  They barely catch enough quarry to feed themselves on their journey.  By the time they return to Luládi on the islet, the weather is back to bright summer but they have no extra food to show for their efforts.

 

*   *   *

 

Elboron and Biárki, at the while, sail down the Anduin to the Carrock.  It takes several days to cover the nearly 20 leagues distance, and the captain drops off his passengers on the eastern bank before turning about and rowing back up the river, since he has completed his hired fare.  Elboron and Biárki are quickly intercepted by a man named Grimwine, who apparently is the Warden of the Carrock, in Grimbeorn’s name.  Apparently, Grimwine is none too pleased by travelers who sail into the lands of the Beornings, thereby circumventing the Carrock crossings which he guards.  Elboron announces the War against Mount Gundabad and tries to convince Grimwine to help him summon the Men of Carrock to join the fight.  [Inspire test, +3 from Courage (0 remaining), complete success] Elboron overcomes Grimwine’s initial reluctance, and the warden consents to let him pass to Grimbeorn’s house, where he may try to convince the Master and his men.

 

The estate of old Beorn is lush and full of life, but fairly humble.  In the great hall, with a fire-pit roaring in the center, Elboron and Biárki meet Grimbeorn, the elderly son of the hero from the late Third Age.  "The orcs, trolls and other evils that have gathered in Gundabad are the enemies of all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth,” Elboron tells Grimbeorn and his servants.  “At this moment, two armies are besieging the mountain.  Men from Gondor, Rohan, Dale, Rhovanion, Dwarves from Erebor, and even Elves and Halflings are preparing for a final assault on this evil.”  He says that the Men of the Anduin Vales are mustering, too, and urges the Beornings to enter the fight.  [Persuade (Oratory), failure] However, it proves a difficult sell.  The Beornings are few in number, just a few hundred people in and around the Carrock.  Grimbeorn is very old and hard of hearing, and his servants do little to correct what he fails to perceive.  Elboron is all out of courageous words, and is at a loss to convince the Beornings otherwise.  Grimbeorn treats the emissaries from the West kindly, and he insists that they stay with him some days, enjoy his hospitality, and share with him news of the rest of the world.  Yet for all their efforts, when Elboron and Biárki depart it is in knowledge that the Men of Carrock will not join the coming battle.

 

It is now June the 7^th by the time Elboron and Biárki leave the House of Beorn.  Grimbeorn has given them a goodly amount of provisions, enough to bring the young lord and the dwarf up to 15 days total (even after what they consumed to get there).  They are now a full 20 leagues from the Anduin thorp as the crow flies, at a time when Rard and Éogar are off hunting for game and trying to find the hobbits.

 

 

Scene 5: The Return of the Fellowship

 

Throughout early June, Éogar and Rard see to the mobilization of the Men of the Anduin Vales.  "Truly we have struck a chord with these good folk," Éogar observes to his friend.  "My heart rises to see their courage.  I yearn to stay with these men and assault the East Gate with them.  The Western front will have many heroes, and King Éomer will have sent a new commander for the Riders by now.  Here, these men have no leader.  But my duty is to see this fellowship to safety."

 

Rard is disappointed that no-one in the settlement was able to give better directions to what he had hoped would be Hobbiton East, and even more disappointed that he was unable to locate them himself.  Having built up an image in his head of a large dinner party, a down bed, and smoking a pipe while drinking hard cider, he is poor company at the meager meals during the rest of the time in the Anduin Vales.  Neither is the hobbit altogether happy with Elboron’s plan.  The young lord declined to plan a visit to Rhosgobel, and Rard never misses an opportunity to complain to Éogar that the fellowship is missing a golden opportunity to recruit a troop of bowmen and maybe even a magician.  Éogar, who thinks his little friend has read too many hobbit-tales of yore, says nothing to encourage his dreaming.

 

Upon returning to the islet thorp after traipsing across the countryside with Rard, Éogar notes that Luládi seems to have befriended the Anduin traders, judging by her fine garments.  "You seem to have a way with the merchants of this thorp.  Perhaps your words will touch the craftsmen as well?” he suggests to her.  “Speak with them and see if you can convince them to craft stout shields of oak or sturdy spears.  Much of the weaponry I see these men have is old, and their force would be bolstered if they had better arms."  The fair lady makes an appeal on Éogar’s behalf in the little marketplace, and most folk listen well to the exotic, beautiful foreigner.  [Persuade test, failure] Yet they protest that they lack cured wood in sufficient quantity to make hundreds of new shields or spears.  Éogar addresses the people and asks if lumberjacks will volunteer to cut fresh timber, but he is told that there are not enough trees close by to produce so many arms.  The Men of the Anduin Vales need the timber for houses and fences, for firewood, and for cover for game; it is unacceptable to strip the land bare of trees.  When they need large quantities of timber, they trade with the Wood-men, for there are trees in plenty in Greenwood the Great.  Alas, there is not time enough left to arrange this trade across such a distance.

 

A couple days later Éogar decides that the group can no longer tarry in the islet thorp, for Elboron and Biárki surely have completed their dealings with the Beornings by now.  A number of captains have been elected by the Men of the Vales, and Éogar has finished training them as best he can.  Messengers arrive bearing pledges from all the vales to contribute horsemen or footmen to the muster, and Éogar is confident that a goodly force will join the host at the East Gate in September.  Éogar bids farewell to the captains and to the aldermen who have helped him, and they wish him a safe journey back to the West.

 

Yet Luládi will not go with them.  She says, “You must return across the mountains, and I must return to my people.”  A group of Anduin traders is setting out soon for Framsburg, and Luládi will accompany them; from there she will cross the Grey Mountains and make it back to the Lossoth camp before her tribesmen leave it.  “If on your journeys you pass through the land called Rhudaur,” she says in a voice, soft and sad, “go tell the Rangers of the North what befell Erethor, him who was my husband once.”  Her voice breaks but she regains her composure and finishes, “Bring his people word that he died while hunting the Orcs of the Mountain, seeking to do his duty with his very last breath.  His body was lost to us, but his memory is ever honored by Ovámu’s folk.”  Éogar pledges to carry Luládi’s message, and Rard throws himself into her arms hugging her good-bye.

 

*   *   *

 

Grimbeorn’s house is barely five leagues from the western riverbank across the Carrock, a distance that Elboron and Biárki easily cover in a single day at a mild pace.  There they await the arrival of their friends in an encampment under the watch of Grimwine, the warden of Carrock.  The days pass idly for Elboron and Biárki, as neither is crafty in the ways of the wilderness and cannot hunt or fish with any skill.  Grimwine takes pity on the warriors and shares many of the fish that he and his men catch in the river.  It is enough to sustain them while they wait.  Finally, at dusk on the 14^th of June, Éogar and Rard arrive.  The knight and the hobbit set off from the thorp several days earlier.  Unable to find any raft or boat going downriver to Carrock, they hiked on foot at a brisk march, though they spent many hours each day hunting and fishing in the river in order to live off the land.  Rard, too, scavenged the countryside for wood.  Every so often they came upon a little copse, and the hobbit gathered up many faggots in his pack; he is determined that the company shall not want for fire on the return trek.

 

Elboron and Biárki are saddened not to see Luládi with them.  Éogar explains her choice to return home, a decision they all can respect.  Rard drops himself down to rest in the camp and asks when the company will essay the High Pass and return to the West.  “We had best not delay on this side of the mountains, for it is still a long journey north from Rivendell to the King's camp,” Elboron says, and orders the fellowship to begin the march the following dawn.  Given that time is beginning to run short, and rations are in even shorter supply, Elboron presses a hard pace each day.  The company ascends into the High Pass a couple days later.  Tall peaks stretch high above, and in the dawn’s light the next day they espy graceful figures soaring in the sky, the Great Eagles of the North.  The watchful presence of the great birds suggests to them that they must be entering a dangerous land, and Rard urges a watch to be kept every night.  So far south of Gundabad the nights are no longer cold, even in the mountain, but a fire is welcome nonetheless for cheer, cooking, and security.  The companions huddle around the flames, each of the four taking a watch in turn.

 

Rard’s demand for a watch proves a wise precaution on the second night in the mountain pass.  An hour before dawn Rard hears the sound of many scuffling feet tromping through the pass from the east.  He rouses his friends, who douse the fire, gather their gear, and rush through the pass to the west.  Behind them they spot a numerous troop of mountain goblins, some two-dozen.  Yet ahead of them a band of goblins half a dozen strong springs upon them from a concealed cave, one of many that fill the High Pass.  For many tunnels in the High Pass run into the Underdeep, some of them down to what Bilbo Baggins called Goblin-town, near to where Gollum once dwelled and where the hobbit found the One Ring.  Now a host of the goblin denizens is set upon the fellowship!  Rard swallows his nerves and drops back, even though a screaming horde of orcs is rushing at his back.  Elboron stands at his side, wielding Faramir’s bow.  They unleash a volley of arrows at the goblins ahead and grievously wound them.  Éogar and Biárki charge the survivors, striking them down and mortally dispatching them.  Elboron and Rard run after them, the whole company desperate to keep ahead of the force chasing them.  But in Middle-earth only the Elves and Rangers are swifter on foot than orcs, who can run for hours with the whips of their masters at their backs, and soon it seems the goblins will overtake the companions.  Then a great screech is heard above, followed by many others: the Great Eagles have come!  The Eagles set upon the goblins and put them to flight, snatching them up and dashing their bodies against the rocks.  It is delay enough for the fellowship to escape!

 

They run to the west for many hours, daring to stop only at the end of the day, and only then does Rard let his imagination turn to the Eagles.  “I wonder if one of them was Drugwae, who spoke with Herubrand?” the hobbit asks with a broad smile.

 

“If it was, that Eagle has done us great service,” says Éogar.

 

It takes the fellowship four days to cross the Misty Mountains, and two more days after that to reach Rivendell.  The travelers are intercepted by a group of Elves in service to Elrond’s sons, who guide them to the Last Homely House where they rest in comfort on the 23^rd of June.  Elladan and Elrohir show the King’s emissaries much courtesy and attend to their needs.  Elboron asks the Elf-lords for further traveling provisions, and for horses if any can be spared.  [Persuade test, marginal success] The sons of Elrond readily grant them food, filling their backs with a great quantity of lembas bread and giving them each a flask of delicious mead.  However, they cannot lend them their horses, because they themselves may be called to travel across Middle-earth at need, for the few remaining Elves of Rivendell serve as messengers and couriers across much of Eriador.

 

The next morning the companions set off on foot along the banks of the River Bruinen, and after a time come upon the Great East Road.  The next four days the hike along the road into Rhudaur, and then Éogar requests to turn south into the Angle so that he may complete Luládi’s request.  The next day they come upon an outlying homestead where some of the Dúnedain of the North still live, those who have not left the Angle to resettle Arnor.  The Rangers greet the travelers warmly, and Éogar explains that he come bearing news of Erethor.  “I know him well,” the eldest Ranger says.  “No-one has seen him, lo, these past seven years.”  Éogar relates Luládi’s tale—how Erethor came into Forodwaith and lived among the Lossoth, and how he was killed while hunting the Orcs of Gundabad.  The Dúnedain present for the story grieve to hear it.  “O, Erethor was a noble man and ever a good servant to Aragorn our chief and king,” the old Ranger laments.  “When a very young man he was among those Rangers who ventured to Forochel to ransom Barahir’s ring, that heirloom of the kings of old.  He returned to that frozen land which he came to love, and there met a brave end.  Thank you for bringing us word of what befell him.”  The next day the companions make it back to the Great Road and continue on their journey.

 

By the 30^th of June, they reach the Last Bridge, which crosses the River Hoarwell, and turn north across the open plain of Eriador.  To their right all the while are the Ettenmoors, a haggard terrain they are glad to avoid.  It is another one hundred leagues and more from the Last Bridge, north around Mount Gram, to the camp of the Grand Muster by the western slope of Mount Gundabad.  Adequately provisioned by the Elves of Rivendell, the companions are no longer pressed by need of food and can maintain a more comfortable pace.  They reach the camp of King Elessar some three weeks later, before July is out.

 

The heroes are welcome back to the encampment with great joy and cheer, for they were feared dead.  As Éogar suspected, Nurin and Mim straggled into the camp in the middle of May.  Nurin treated with King Elessar and told that the dragon most surely devoured his impetuous servants.  A great despair struck the Men of the Grand Muster, but the King refused to let them depart.  “I have put my faith in my friends and followers,” he announced to the army, “and I will not give up hope yet.  We promised Faramir’s son that we would give him until the last week of September to return, and we will stay here until then.”

 

Elboron, Éogar, Biárki, and Rard are brought to King Elessar.  His first reaction is hardly unexpected: “What has befallen Gilavas Parmandil?”  Those friends who survived the Elf-sage tell the King every detail of the journey since leaving the camp in the middle of April.  And the King openly grieves to hear of the death of Gilavas.  He listens to Éogar’s account of Nurin and says, “I have no cause to challenge his claim to the halls of his ancestors and relations of old.  We have welcomed him and his people in our host.  Yet I deem that Nurin has a suspicious heart and even still does not wholly trust my motives.”  The tales of the Gundabad mansions, of Luládi and the Lossoth, of Framsburg rebuilt fill the King with wonder.  He is most happy to hear that the fellowship was able to muster perhaps a thousand fresh troops from the Men of the Anduin to join the assault on the East Gate.  His joy is muted when Elboron reveals that only Lord Bard agreed to wait for the joint assault, that King Thorin could make no assurance.  King Elessar nods once, grim and resolute: “We all must do what we may.”

 

The next couple months pass slowly as the Grand Muster readies itself once again for war.  Reinforcements from the Reunited Kingdoms have arrived, swelling the ranks of the army back to their numbers before the first assault.  Six éoreds to replace those Eorlings killed under Halcred’s command have arrived from Rohan; hundreds of foot soldiers from Gondor to the south have arrived to bolster the units shattered in the first battle.  The last wagons of supplies arrive from the Shire, the last of the provisions that the hobbits can spare.  It is enough to keep the army in the field through October and no longer.  The coming battle will decide everything.

 

Then, at the end of August, the morale of the army is shaken.  One morning the sounds of a great clash from across the mountain are heard, screams and shouts and the ringing of weapons.  Within a few hours the sounds are silenced, but later that day a band of orc-archers sallies out of the West Gate.  They carry great slings and hurl tiny rounded objects at the edge of the camp, and then run back into their mountain fastness.  Scouts investigate the hurled objects and are disgusted to discover that they are the severed heads of dwarf-warriors, still in their tight steel helmets: a full two-score heads.

 

“What could this mean?” asks one of the Gondorian captains.

 

King Elessar looks at Elboron, who stomps his foot hard on the ground and shouts angrily at the sky.  “The Dwarves of Erebor did not wait.  They pressed their own attack and were repulse!” he seethes.

 

The King frowns, looking upon the ruined visages of the brave dwarves.  “A count of forty heads is the price they paid for this folly,” he says.  “The orcs cut the heads off the bodies and threw them at our camp in hopes of filling us with terror, but our resolve is only strengthened.  That they had no more heads to throw at us may mean a great many dwarves survived their assault.  We can hope that they will stand with Lord Bard in the coming fight.”

 

Finally, the month of September arrives and the Grand Muster prepares itself to assault the West Gate one last time in conjunction, it is hoped, with allies on the eastern slope.  King Elessar calls a Council of War, and all his lords, captains, and counselors gather in the royal pavilion to plan strategy.  The King himself will command the host, leading from the front among the guard-unit, the heavy infantry of Minas Tirith.  He then looks to his followers and asks where he each of them will stand in the coming battle.  His eyes rest with great interest upon Elboron, Éogar, Rard, and Biárki, who have suffered so much for his cause.

 

 

Scene 6: The Last Battle for Gundabad

 

September in the 17^th year of the Fourth Age of Middle-earth.  The Fellowship of Forlorn Hope has completed its task and returned to the encampment of the Grand Muster in time to join the final assault against Mount Gundabad.  Thanks to their efforts, a great host of Men will assail the East Gate of Gundabad at the same time that King Elessar leads his reinforced army against the West Gate.  As supplies of provisions are nearly exhausted and winter is soon to come to the North, this battle will decide everything—victory or bitter retreat.

 

During the weeks leading up to the assault planned for October the 1^st, the heroes of the fellowship prepare themselves for war.  They see less of each other now, but the bonds of friendship are strong and bring them together from time to time.  Together they remember Gilavas Parmandil, Luládi, and Herubrand, friends lost or departed.  Éogar and Rard remember Finbor and Frolin, too, vanished friends who are never far from their thoughts.  However, some acquaintances from their quest are not far away—Nurin, Mim, and the other Ironfist Dwarves.  Shortly after returning, Éogar privately seeks out Lord Nurin to settle accounts with him.  The knight well knows the import of keeping his pledge.  "The Drake of Gundabad may yet live, and your home is not safe,” he tells Nurin.  “When my duty here is finished you and I will gather together some heroes and confront it again.  Drake-slayer proved a great boon against it, but its dragon-spells are potent.  Our fellowship was shattered by it.  I know my oath to you, and I shall see it through.”

 

Nurin regards Éogar kindly, and it seems that the Dwarf-lord’s suspicions of the motives of the King of Men have been quelled by spending time in his company.  King Elessar has received Nurin with great courtesy and promised that any hall in Gundabad that he claims by right shall be his without question, and Nurin is well pleased.  “I doubt you not, Éogar Garbald’s son,” Nurin replies.  “I feared you dead, and if you can escape a dragon once then I trust you can return a second time and slay it.  And when you do, you shall be accompanied by a Dwarven host, and I shall be at its head.”  With peace has been achieved between them, the Knight of Arnor and Ironfist Dwarf-lord clasp forearms in a gesture of friendship.

 

A few weeks before the scheduled attack, King Elessar summons a council of war.  Captains, counselors, and lords of the realm gather in the royal pavilion to debate the strategy for the coming battle.  Éogar, Elboron, Rard, and Biárki are given places of honor in the assembly, positioned at the right hand of the king.  Everyone present hails them, for none doubts that they suffered hardest of all to make the final assault against Gundabad possible.

 

The first matter addressed is who shall command the army in the field.  There is a general acclaim for the king himself to take command, as he promised at the end of the first battle the previous year.  Éogar joins the acclaim, hoping to stave off any man who seeks his own greater glory.  He praises the memory of Halcred, once his rival but his friend by his death, but echoes the call for the king to lead.  “The troops need your leadership and presence to bolster their strength and allay their fears," he says.  King Elessar nods solemnly and accepts the acclaim—he shall be the general of the army and no other.

 

When the discussion turns to plans for battle, the young lord Elboron is among the first to offer a proposal.  He describes the location of the Lost Mansion of the Stiffbeards and suggests it could be used as a staging point for attacking the enemy.  "Though the way into the heart of the mountain is blocked, I believe we could clear a path.  A third front in the coming battle would be most welcome," he says.

 

The proposal raises a great tumult among the captains, for it entails both promise and risk.  Some men say that the element of surprise is well worth the danger, but others say that such a tactic siphons away troops with no guarantee that the collapsed passage leads to a vulnerable enemy position.  Shrewd counselors point out that while a host occupies the Lost Mansion, where they may not be any orcs, the North Gate is left uncontested—in the possession of possibly an enraged dragon.  Would the angry worm permit wolf-riders again to pass through and take his revenge against the Army of the West?  King Elessar considers all the arguments.  “Sending troops into the Lost Mansion is too grave a risk,” he decides.  “We do not know whether the hall, once cleared, even leads to the stronghold of the enemy.  The Lost Mansion should be shut up, and our attention turned against the North Gate.”

 

"A scouting party should keep an eye on the hidden dwarf-pass through which our host was flanked by wolf-riders in the first battle," says Éogar.  "At the sign of any enemy, they can return and ensure a strong line of defense for our rear guard.”

 

There is widespread agreement with the proposal.  The king nods and replies, “We will send more than a scouting party.  A strong battalion of archers and axe-men should hold the pass.  Once the Lost Mansion is closed up, they can leaguer the path to the North Gate and hold back orcs, wolves, or worse that try to pass.”  For the next hour the counselors debate the order of battle, and eventually it is decided that Halbarad’s son will lead the Eriador skirmishers into the hidden pass, along with a strong company of axe-wielding Dwarves.  King Elessar does not hesitate to appoint Biárki Barrelheart to lead them.

 

The king asks for every captain and counselor present to attach themselves to one of the fighting companies for the coming battle.  Elboron turns to his hobbit friend and says, "Raridoc, you belong with the finest bowmen in the Grand Muster—the Ithilien host!"

 

Rard thinks back to the grievous wound he suffered in the first battle, and his heart rises to his gorge his trepidation.  "I fear I may slow down the men of Ithilien,” he explains with a little smile.

 

Éogar watches the discomfiture of his friend and calls the king’s attention to the hobbit.  He suggests, “Perhaps Raridoc would be the ideal Chief Scout for rear guard?"

 

Rard readily agrees, accepting any charge that does not require him to face the battleground again where last time he almost died.  King Elessar nods and offers a reassuring smile to the hobbit.  “You will do us great service in the rear guard,” he says, “but know that it is not free of risk.  If the dragon yet lives, it will be upon the rear guard that his wrath will fall.”  Rard nods weakly, answering that if that happens then he will happily stand with the other archers against the worm.

 

The days leading up to the Day of Battle pass hard for the friends.  The fellowship will be sundered—Rard and Biárki to the hidden pass, Elboron and Éogar to the western slope with the Grand Muster.  They dine together often, and bid each other heartfelt farewells with promises to meet against after the battle.  The night before he departs with the rear guard, Rard pays a visit to another old friend—Gamba Bracegirdle, the king’s hobbit mapmaker.  They chat about the Shire, and Rard’s heart thinks fondly of it.  "After the battle, I will go home for a bit," he says.  But, Rard’s heart has been touched by wanderlust, and he knows that he could never settle down for good.  Gamba sees it in him too, and presents Rard with a copy of one of his maps of Northern Middle-earth, complete with details that Rard reported to him based on his travels with the Fellowship of Forlorn Hope.  After bidding Old Gamba farewell, Rard retires to his tent.  His faithful mule Barion is tethered outside, sleeping on the ground.  Rard strokes the mule’s scruffy mane tenderly then crawls into his tent for a fitful night’s sleep.

 

*   *   *

 

October the 1^st, the Day of Battle.  Rard and Biárki have already been gone from the army encampment for over a week, and with them went Halbarad’s company of Eriador skirmishers and many Dwarves.  Remaining in the Grand Muster under King Elessar’s command is a great count of head—five hundred Dúnedain from Minas Tirith, two thousand infantrymen from the Gondorian fiefs, a thousand archers and spearmen from Ithilien, Pelargir, and Ethir Anduin, three éoreds of cavalry from Rohan, and a vanguard of two hundred Dwarf-warriors from Eriador and Aglarond.  At dawn, King Elessar bids the heralds to sound the call for war.  Before the sun is wholly above the eastern horizon, camp is struck and the soldiers are arrayed in their hosts, armed and ready for battle.

 

Elboron Faramir’s son rides before the gathered host, astride his beloved steed Léofara.  His father’s bow is in one hand and his shining longsword in the other.  He wears again the burnished mail corslet that he left behind when undertaking the Quest of Forlorn Hope.  A great hurrah is raised for the gallant youth as he salutes his king and takes his place at the head of the great company of Ithilien and the Mouths of Anduin.  Éogar, mounted on his trusted horse Hildwyn, rides at the king’s side.  Next to him is Rohirric lord sent by King Éomer with the fresh éoreds.  Éogar faces King Elessar and bows his head low.  He says, “My King, I request your leave to join with the Riders of Rohan.  I still have much to prove to my bretheren and it can only be done in the heart of their lines."  King Elessar gives his accent, and Éogar then turns to the lord of Rohan.  "Will have a Knight of Arnor in your ranks, as Halcred allowed?" he asks.

 

“Gladly,” the lord of Rohan replies.  “The Lord of the Mark commended you to me, and asked that I accept you and make note of your deeds in the battle.  Your name is on the lips of every man who followed you in the first battle, and I would have you at my side as my first lieutenant in the field.”  Éogar thanks the Rohirric lord for his trust and, upon offering King Elessar a final salute, rides off to take his place at the head of the éoreds.

 

*   *   *

 

In the last days of September, the rear guard dug in to the hidden pass west of Mount Gundabad.  The Dwarves have constructed a strong embankment blocked the pass, about half-way through the mountains.  Rope-ladders have been raised to the surrounding ledges, where positions for hundreds of archers and slingers have been marked out.  Rard Brandybuck has taken his charge seriously and gone ahead of the body of troops every step of the way.  He and Biárki first returned to the entrance to the Lost Mansion to ensure that the orcs have not violated its sanctity.  Biárki felt a sickness in his heart as he neared the place and refused to set foot inside, but Rard listened carefully and was convinced that nothing that lives was inside the hall.  Together they closed up the secret door, so that any orcs inside or out will be unable to pass through the sealed barrier.

 

As the force began to dig in, Rard decided that waiting was the hardest part.  Taking his leave of Biárki and Halbarad’s son, he hike to the rear entrance to the North Gate where so many months ago his fellowship plotted how to face the dragon.  His eye caught a bundled shape leaning against the wall of the trench—his old backpack, left there when he sneaked into the North Gate to spy on the dragon.  The hobbit rushed over to it and opened it up, delighted to find his cherished cooking gear in tact.  Tossing the pack over his shoulder, Rard slowly sneaked through the postern door and into the darkness of the North Gate.  The hall was utterly quiet.  Carefully skulking along the walls, he crept through the shadows to the main chamber where his friend Gilavas died battling the Drake of Gundabad.  Peering into the vast hall, he saw that it looked different.  Gone was the great heap of treasure on which the dragon laid.  In its place was a great heap of bones and scales and carnage—the slaughtered remains of the dragon.

 

Greatly surprised, Rard slipped into the hall for a closer look.  Among the remains of the dragon he saw the desiccated corpses of dozens of orcs.  Sometime over the past couple months, the orcs must have sought pass through the North Gate—and when they found the dragon injured, they decided to slay it and take the hall for their own rather than pay any more tribute to the worm.  “Count on evil to turn on evil,” he mused in his mind.  He breathed a sigh of relief that the Dragon of Gundabad is dead, and further relief that it took no less than forty orcs with it.  Suddenly, he heard a great clamor from the other side of the great chamber, from the huge doors leading into the heart of the mountain.  When he was hear last time they were closed fast, but this time he saw they were wide open.  “The orcs and wolves now must pass freely in and out of the North Gate!“ he thought, alarmed.  From deep inside the tunnel he heard the sounds of marching boots and clanging metal; the coming of an orc-host!  The hobbit turned about and ran out of the North Gate as fast as he could.  He forced a hard march back through the pass to the position of the rear guard, and upon his return told Biárki and Halbarad’s son what he learned.

 

“So that means the cursed orcs have got my mattock!” was all that Biárki had to say about it.

 

The rear guard lay low in their positions, waiting out the last couple days until the agreed upon Day of Battle.  On the morning of the 1^st of October, the archers and slingers climb onto their heights while the axe-wielding Dwarves array themselves atop their fighting embankment to await the enemy.  And sure enough, only a few minutes later a great column of orc wolf-riders appears!  They had started to muster in the North Gate the other day when Rard spied on them, and now they have come to try to outflank the Army of the West like they did in the first battle.

 

“If the wolf-riders are moving through the hidden pass, that must mean the battle on the western slope is already begun!” Rard says, excited and nervous.

 

Halbarad’s son nods to him.  “Their dark general must have given them orders to move through the pass at speed, in hopes of reaching the eastern slope before the Grand Muster takes the West Gate.  We cannot let them pass!”  Halbarad shouts his orders to the archers, who rain a hail of missiles upon the coming wolves.  “The Dwarves are upon you!” Biárki shouts, raising the traditional Dwarven war-cry, a shout taken up by all the others.  The orcs and wolves are caught wholly by surprise, but they have no choice except to press on and try to overwhelm the strongly entrenched rear guard.

 

At the same time, a dozen miles away, the rest of the Grand Muster surges up the western slope.  Thousands of orcs and wolves, and some companies of trolls, march out of the West Gate to the resist them.  The enemy is mighty in number—but not so mighty as during the first battle.  King Elessar, at the head of the Minas Tirith host, leads the advance.  The vanguard of Durin’s Folk is close by, first to strike at the orcs.  The cavalry of Rohan, with Éogar in the van, thunders up the flanks of the slope.  Elboron captains the strong battalion of archers and flank-guards, pressing them to fill in any gaps in the line.  In both the hidden pass and the western slope, battle against the Enemy of Gundabad is joined.  The heroes can only hope that the Men of Dale and Wilderland are fulfilling their duty on the eastern slope, or else the Enemy reinforcements will overwhelm the Grand Muster.

 

*   *   *

 

BATTLE RESOLUTION:

 

Starting Point: Winning (+1)

Grand Muster modifier: +8 [King Elessar]

Orcs of Gundabad modifier: +6 [Uruk general]

 

ROUND 1:

Elboron (thick of battle) = complete success, +1

Eogar (heart of battle) = superior success, +2

Rard (outskirts of battle) = extraordinary success, +3

Grand Muster = 3 roll + 8 modifier + 6 hero bonus + 1 Winning = 18

Gundabad = 9 roll + 6 modifier + 2 hero bonus = 17

RESULT = Winning (+2)

 

Elboron: Parry test (TN 15), superior success = 1 lesser strike [2 damage, Healthy]

Eogar: Parry test (TN 15), superior success = 1 lesser strike [2 damage, Healthy]

Rard: Dodge test (TN 15), [2 Courage spent] superior success = 1 lesser strike [5 damage, Healthy]

 

Elboron: Weariness test (TN 10), success, Hale (-0)

Eogar: Weariness test (TN 10), success, Hale (-0)

Rard: Weariness test (TN 10), success, Hale (-0)

 

ROUND 2:

Elboron (thick of battle) = marginal success, +1

Eogar (heart of battle) = complete success, +1

Rard (outskirts of battle) = superior success, +2

Grand Muster = 6 roll + 8 modifier + 4 hero bonus + 2 Winning = 20

Gundabad = 5 roll + 6 modifier + 2 hero bonus = 13

RESULT = Winning (+3)

 

Elboron: Parry test (TN 15), complete success = 2 lesser strikes [total 6 damage, Healthy]

Eogar: Parry test (TN 15), superior success = 1 lesser strike [total 4 damage, Healthy]

Rard: Dodge test (TN 15), [2 Courage spent] complete success = 2 lesser strikes [total 15 damage, Injured (-1)]

 

Elboron: Weariness test (TN 12), success, Hale (-0)

Eogar: Weariness test (TN 12), success, Hale (-0)

Rard: Weariness test (TN 12), failure, Winded (-1)

 

ROUND 3:

Elboron (thick of battle) = complete success, +1

Eogar (heart of battle) = superior success, +2

Rard (outskirts of battle) = complete success, +1

Grand Muster = 5 roll + 8 modifier + 4 hero bonus + 3 Winning = 20

Gundabad = 6 roll + 6 modifier + 2 hero bonus = 14

RESULT = VICTORY!

 

Elboron: Parry test (TN 15), superior success = 1 lesser strikes [total 8 damage, Healthy]

Eogar: Parry test (TN 15), failure = 2 greater strikes [total 18 damage, Dazed (-0)]

Rard: Dodge test (TN 15), [2 Courage spent] complete success = 2 lesser strikes [total 25 damage, Wounded (-3)]

 

*   *   *

 

The battle is hard-fought and bloody, but it is over in three hours.  The day is cool and overcast, as a black smoke belches from the tunnels and caves of Gundabad to blot out the sun.  Though it gives some comfort to the orcs, it does not dampen the spirits of the Army of the West.  While the rear guard holds off the wolf-riders in the hidden pass, the Grand Muster presses up the slope.  Every hour carries King Elessar’s army closer to the West Gate, until the vanguard Dwarves are able to rush past the remaining trolls and seize the entrance!  Thousands of orcs, hundreds of Uruk-hail, and dozens of trolls lie dead on the slope, and there are no more reinforcements inside Mount Gundabad to prevent the Grand Muster from charging through the West Gate!

 

For another hour the Dwarves and Men of the West hew down the orcs and trolls fleeing ahead of them in a mindless rout.  Much of the cavalry, Éogar among them, dismounts from their horses and join the pursuit.  One wing of cavalry holds the western slope to make sure no enemy stragglers escape or that no surprise reinforcements from the hidden pass arrive.  Of course, they cannot know that the wolf-riders in the hidden pass have no hope of reaching the western slope.  Rard and the rear guard have utterly checked their advance; hundreds of wolf and orcs are slaughtered trying to break through the defensive line, and when they flee in panic all the rest are hewn down by the pursuing Dwarves.  The rear flank of the Grand Muster is secure as the troops march deep into Gundabad, purging the halls of the foul orcs, trolls, and wolves inside.  At the very last a gruesome Uruk with a tattered oriflamme of Mordor tries to rally the defenders—he must be their general, the last of the veterans of Sauron’s army at the close of the Third Age.  But it is too late, and the Uruk’s position is quickly overwhelmed.  It is Éogar who lands the finishing blow, his spear Drake-slayer crashing through the Great Orc’s helmet and smashing his skull.

 

For the rest of the day, the Army of the West pursues the scattered Orcs of Gundabad and decimates their surviving numbers.  Then, just before dusk another great host is spotted advancing up the tunnel from the East Gate.  “Are they enemy reinforcements from the East Gate?  Then we are undone!” cries Forlong’s son, in command of the Men of the Gondorian fiefs.  But the coming soldiers raise a cry, “For Bard and for Dale, on!”  It is the Dale-men, followed by hundreds of burly warriors from the Anduin Vales.  Lord Bard strides to the fore, and when he shakes hands with King Elessar it is the sign that the two armies of joined together: both the West Gate and the East Gate have been taken!  At Lord Bard’s side is King Thorin, bloodied and grim but still alive.  His surviving Dwarves or Erebor decided to remain for the Day of Battle after all, to avenge their losses suffered on their ill-advised solitary assault at the end of August.

 

The battle is over, and the Free Peoples of the West have won the war for Mount Gundabad.  But the victory was not won without pain.  Éogar and Elboron faced many enemy strikes during the hours of combat, but their stout mail coats protected them.  Elboron has suffered but a few bruises and his still quite healthy.  Éogar, who was ever at the heart of the press, was stricken by numerous blows but is only dazed by the pain.  On the other side of the battlefield, Rard suffered worse.  Many of the orc wolf-riders hurled darts or shot arrows, and numerous shaft fell upon the hobbit even on the outskirts of battle.  By the time the last of the enemy are killed, the unarmored is visibly wounded—but despite the pain he is able to walk under his own power.  As for Biárki Barrelheart, his deeds are not recorded in this chronicle.  Yet he was ever among Durin’s Folk, cheering on his fellows and joining his sword Worm-cleaver with their axes.  Among the Grand Muster, hundreds of Men and Dwarves were cut down.  Surgeons search the far-flung field, gathering together all the casualties to sort the dead and treat the wounded.

 

On the next day, October the 2^nd, a messenger from King Elessar reaches the hidden pass and reports a great victory, summoning the troops back to the western slope.  A bloodied Rard Brandybuck rejoins his friends, and the four surviving members of the Fellowship of Forlorn Hope embrace each other, grateful that none of their lives were claimed by the war.

 

On the 3^rd of October, King Elessar declares that the war is over.  Lord Nurin and King Thorin are leading the Dwarven warriors throughout all the tunnels of Mount Gundabad, hunting down and clearing out every remaining orc.  Some small number of orcs and wolves escaped, surely, and now roam Forodwaith in small bands—but Luládi and her people know how to deal with them.  The king camps the joined armies on the western slope.  Despite the coming of autumn, the day is surprisingly warm and fair; the sun shines overhead and the black miasma of Gundabad has been utterly blown away by a strong Western wind.  Standing before the hosts of the Men of the West, the Dale-men, and the Men of the Anduin Vales, King Elessar speaks in a strong and lordly voice:

 

“Long have we toiled in this enterprise, and now our sufferings have been rewarded.  Victory is ours, and Mount Gundabad is freed from the Orcs of the North.  Never again will Eriador and Rhovanion suffer the deprivations of orcs and wolves in great numbers—their power is broken forever!  But let us remember those who sacrificed their lives and blood for our victory.  Let us remember friends gone from this world.  So long as they live in our hearts, our fellowship will never be sundered.”  The King turns to the West and leads the army in a Standing Silence, that ancient Dúnedain ritual that honors the West that was and the Uttermost West that ever will be.

 

 

Scene 7: Appendix – The End of Days

 

And so the 17^th Year of the Fourth Age of Middle-earth witnessed a great triumph for the Free Peoples of Middle-earth.  The Orcs of the North were shattered, and Mount Gundabad reclaimed by the Dwarves.  Lord Nurin, learning that the Dragon of the North Gate was dead, released Éogar from his service.  The Dwarf-lord returned to the Lost Mansion and the North Gate, summoning the Ironfist Dwarves from across Middle-earth to join him.  King Thorin led Durin’s Folk to rebuild the other mansions, and soon they were joined by their Broadbeam and Firebeard kindreds.  Mount Gundabad remained a haven for the Dwarves for many ages, until their race passed out of the recorded annals of the world.

 

Of King Elessar and the Realms of the West, their history in the Fourth Age has been written.  Herein may be found the final tales of the Heroes of the Fellowship, those who survived the quest and the War for Gundabad.

 

*   *   *

 

What fate befell Biárki Barrelheart, Biárlin’s son, is not recorded in any of the annals of Middle-earth.  Whether his heart found peace after the War for Gundabad is not known.  Some said that he stayed in Gundabad and helped Lord Nurin rebuild his halls, at least for a time.  Others said that he returned to Erebor for a short while before disappearing altogether.  Still others said that he traveled alone to Moria and entered, and there found his destiny.  Many years later, perhaps an Age of Middle-earth or more, the Dwarves led by Durin VII reclaimed Khazad-dum.  It is said that deep in the tunnels of Moria, amidst the broken remains of countless orcs, Durin VII and his warriors found the skeleton of a solitary dwarf with a patch over one eye and a great Mannish longsword in his bony fingers.

 

*   *   *

 

Éogar Garbald’s son earned great renown in the last battle for Gundabad.  Many Riders of Rohan were saved by his strong hand.  At the close of the battle, the Men of the Mark cheered him as a great hero, and all sought to clasp arms with him and call him brother.  When the Grand Muster dispersed, Éogar went with them.  “I release you from your fealty as a Knight of Arnor,” King Elessar said to him in a gentle voice.  “Go to your homeland, and receive that reward you long have sought and richly deserve.”  Éogar bowed low to his liege and wept, and the King wept, too, to see his loyal servant depart.

 

At the borders of the Riddermark, Éogar halted and set up a camp, for he would not defy the law of the Lord of the Mark and enter the kingdom as a renegade.  For many days he camped on the open plain during winter, and finally a trio of riders came to him.  Their leader removed his great helmet, and it was Éomer, Lord of the Mark.  Éogar gazed at him in amazement and fell to his knees.  “Why does a loyal son of Eorl camp at the frontier of his fatherland?” Éomer asked, extending a hand to pull Éogar to his feet.  “No longer are you a renegade, Éogar Garbald’s son.  The Lord of the Mark lifts your exile and welcomes you home as a brother.  By my word, the land and rank of your father are returned to you.”  Finally given the redemption that had been his heart's desire for so long, Éogar returned to the land of his birth.  He sought out his beloved sister, Garwyn.  She had harkened to every rumor and bit of news of her brother brought to her ear, and great was her joy to see him again.  For the rest of his days Éogar lived in the Riddermark and served Lord Éomer and his heirs.  Yet Éogar never forgot the King of Mundburg who long ago saw into his heart and accepted him into service, first in the Tower Guard and then as a Knight of Arnor.  Whenever King Elessar put out a call for warriors to aid him, Éogar was first among the Rohirrim to respond.  Some years after returning, Éogar married a goodly lady of the Mark and sired a son to follow him, to wear the Dwarf-mail coat and carry Drake-slayer in battle.  Indeed, the history of the world tells many tales of knights who bore spears that could slay dragons and wore mail coats impervious to wounds, and surely some of them are descended from Éogar Garbald’s son.

 

*   *   *

 

Elboron Faramir’s son followed King Elessar back to Gondor.  It was hard to say farewell to his comrades, especially to Éogar who had been as a father to him in absence of his own.  But his duty lay to the South, in Ithilien.  He returned home to the hall of his father and mother at Emyn Arnen.  Faramir and Éowyn marveled at the change that had some over him, for Elboron had seen much and suffered much before his twentieth year.  Elboron had become a great lord in his own right, a brave captain and a strong warrior.  Prince Faramir turned over many responsibilities to his son, whose reputation was great indeed after the War against Gundabad.

 

But Elboron burned for glory, and he joined every martial enterprise countenanced by King Elessar.  There was no battlefield from the Misty Mountains, to Harondor, to the Brown Lands, to Khand, and to the wide plains of Rhûn that was not witnessed by Elboron mounted atop his noble steed Léofara.  He fought every enemy of Gondor, the orcs and the wild men, rebels and pirates, the Easterlings and the Southrons.  When he came of age, he married well as befit his station.  His wife was a noblewoman of beauty and bearing, a lady of Calembel in Lamedon.  At the height of his power and glory, Elboron sired a son, and at his Faramir’s request named him Barahir.  Elboron turned the care and education of Barahir to his wife and Éowyn his mother, for Elboron’s heart still yearned for battle.  Some years later a great war was raised in Rhûn, and a powerful horde of Easterlings invaded the West.  A might battle was fought somewhere in Wilderland, a clash of ten thousand against ten thousand.  King Elessar, aged and weary with many years, was surrounded by the enemy.  Elboron rallied a great force of cavalry and charged into the fray.  He killed the Easterling warlord and saved the life of the King.  But at the moment of his triumph, a poisoned dart slew Léofara.  The steed fell and crushed his master beneath him.  Elboron’s body was borne back to Emyn Arnen in state, and he was buried with high honor by Faramir and Éowyn.

 

The death of Elboron chastened Prince Faramir and Lady Éowyn, and they took care to raise young Barahir in safety.  Barahir grew up more alike to grandfather Faramir than his grandmother of Rohan, and he became wise with the lore of Númenor.  All that is known of Barahir is that he became a great scholar, for it was he who penned the famed Tale of Aragorn and Arwen.

 

*   *   *

 

Rariadoc Brandybuck had the hardest time saying good-bye to his fellows.  It was painful enough to bid farewell to new friends like Elboron and Biárki, and a lump came to his throat when he had to take his leave of King Elessar and Halbarad’s son, but saying good-bye to Éogar was more than he could bear.  He threw his arms about the doughty man and shed many tears.  “Do not weep at this parting, Rard,” said Éogar.  “You above all will be blessed with lifelong friendship.”

 

When Rard departed, it was not alone.  He went in the company of the old hobbit Gamba Bracegirdle, and with him went his beloved mule Barion, companion of many long travels.  But he also found a third friend.  Before parting with the Grand Muster, a party of Elves approached him.  With them was Cúroch, the beautiful Elvish-steed that had once belonged to his friend the Grey-elf Bergalad.  “Master Brandybuck, will you not take Cúroch with you?” asked the Elves.  “He has been in our care since you rode him to Rivendell from East of East two years ago, but he languishes without his master.  He was fit when you rode him, and it is right that you keep him in your custody.”  Rard touched the noble horse’s mane, and Cúroch bowed low to let him mount.  Cúroch always remained a dear companion to Rard, and was the only Elvish-steed ever gifted to a hobbit.

 

Rard returned to the Shire, as promised, and spent some time there among his friends and kin.  He devoted many hours to talking with Meriadoc the Magnificent, Master of Buckland, telling stories of his adventures—some of true, most embellished.  But as the months passed, he found himself missing his distant friends and the joy of traveling the world.  Bidding good-bye to his relations in the Shire, he mounted Cúroch and, with Barion the mule in tow, rode out of the Shire.  He went to Rohan, where he stayed long with Éogar.  Together they road the width and breadth of the Mark, sharing the beauty of the land.  And together they rode along the coasts of Gondor, asking at every village and thorp for news of Finbor and Frolin.  Yet they never learned anything of their friends’ fate, and sadly Éogar returned home to Rohan.  Rard continued on, first visiting King Elessar in Minas Tirith and then Elboron in Emyn Arnen.  Then his thoughts turned to a very dear friend, and he undertook the far journey to Dorwinion.  There he stayed at the villa of Halgo, son of Galleth.  Rard was sad to learn that Galleth had died the previous year.  Halgo, now a grown man, was master of the villa.  He was very glad to see Rard again, and happy to learn that his gift-bow had served the hobbit so well over the years.

 

After a long stay in Dorwinion, Rard went back to Rhovanion.  He paid a call to the Woodland Realm and visited with Belegil, the Wood-elf magician who had journeyed with him on his first quest from Rivendell.  Then on to Dale, where he visited Prince Barion—and introduced him to his equine namesake.  Barion, he learned, had governed Dale as regent during the War for Gundabad.  Now a middle-aged man, he was a trusted advisor to his brother Lord Bard.  Of course, Rard also went to Framsburg and stayed for a long time with his old friend Herubrand.  Framsburg flourished after the defeat of the Orcs of the North, and it once again became a great town and a center of trade for the Men of the Anduin Vales.  For a while Rard even thought of trying to visit Forodwaith again to visit the beautiful Lossoth woman Luládi, but remembering the featureless expanse of snow he decided against it.

 

At last, Rard crossed the Misty Mountains and came back to the West.  He lived to a ripe old age, always blessed with an abundance of friends.  He returned to the Shire, but every couple years he would always ride off on another trip to visit Éogar.  When Éogar passed away from old age, the elderly Rard came back to the Shire for good and spent his remaining years in Buckland.  Rard long outlived his beloved mule Barion, of course, but Cúroch lasted the full count of the hobbit’s days.  It is said that when Rard passed away, Cúroch lay down in grief and gave up his own life that night.

 

FINIS