"As noble as the gesture is, Grimric, I feel Kaldor is right. The beast is wounded, but deadly to us and the wolf should fair better. That being said, if you, Albaron, Freya and this..." Dwalvyn paused for the briefest second. "Scar wish to return, deal with the creature and bring my axe back, it is fine by me. Your steed will allow swift travel to and from the last camp and you should be able to meet us by the time we next set up for the night." He took a deep breath and resteadied himself on the fine animal beneath him. "That being said, you should stay in our company for the night for safety. The decision is laid at your feet," he said solemnly. He then chuckled slightly as he added, "Although I'd like to be let off of your steed before you leave."

Kaldor nodded along to Dwavlyn's plan, the dwarf emissary was proving to be a very able leader. Although Kaldor was worried that the party was about to be split up, he was confident that it would all go to plan.
"Howabout you meet us at the foot of 'the pass?'" Added Kaldor "We should arrive there in a day or two, we can wait for you there before we all travel through the pass!"

Kaldor then began to set up their camp for the night, he remained vigilant of foes but he did his best to not think about being attacked, he was tired of fighting.
"However, i will not have you depart on an empty stomach" Cried Kaldor as he produced half a dozen rabbits, all of which had been skinned and stuck on roasting spits, one of which was actually just a throwing dagger. "Fear not, this will only take an hour or so, but will fill your stomachs for many days!"

The meal did not take long to prepare, and Kaldor had been busy collecting whatever vegetables he could for Freya, in the end he managed to find a carrot and two apples, all of which were in acceptable condition; he had also found another carrot but he had accidentally dropped it in a large pile of animal droppings so he disposed of it. The dwarf also made an effort to feed scar, leaving all the inedible bits of the rabbits in a pile far from the camp.

Sulvan listened to what was said. He did not like horses of Rohan but said: "I would gladly join you. That troll must be delt with quickly. We will bring back you axe, unless you want it in the hands of an Orc, or worse." Sulvan also had left one of his own daggers stuck in the trolol he wanted to recieve.

"We will aim to be quick and will meet you at the chosen place. Scarr will not need to be called. He will join us at his own pace." He noted how the companions had reacted to the warg. Especially Kaldor leaving him some meat. He wondered how much he knew about them. He decided that before he and Gimric returned to the companions, he knew he had to send a message back to Vrasghul sonce he had recently and purposefully neglected to continue to leave signs for him.

"I also thank you for your kindness, Kaldor," he said in a questionable tone, "I will not forget that," he indicated to the meat. Much to Sulvan's disgust, the dwarf Kaldor was proving useful. Sulvan decided to make sure that Vrasghul did not kill that dwarf. He would stake a small portion of his gold on this, though he would not tell this to Vrasghul. Sulvan was also wonderiong if Tom Ferny was followng them and if so, how would he avoid discovery now, and if not, what was the cowardly rascal up to. Then Sulvan turned to his meal, forgetting about many things...

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"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

"As you wish, Master Dwarves, let no man say the son of Freahelm is so rude as to refuse a meal in the company of friends. In the morn, I shall ride with Albaron to reclaim our leader's axe."

He dismounted lightly and helped the armoured dwarf down as best as he could, but the dwarf was heavier than Grimric so he came down a little harder than expected. The young man managed to suppress his mirth before moving back beside Freya, stroking her thick neck. Slowly but carefully, he loosened the bridle and removed it before stroking the horse's soft nose twice, crooning as he did so. Then Grimric uncinched the saddle and carefully removed it, setting the saddle in the snow where he planned to rest his head. The rider nodded absently when Kaldor brought a couple apples and a carrot for Freya while the rabbits were being roasted. Rummaging in his pack, the yound man found his two brushes and set them on top of the saddle before drawing his skinning knife. Taking one of the apples he cut it in twain and offered one half to Freya with his right hand. She bit eagerly into the apple slice, too quickly for Grimric to remove his hand from her mouth.

"Oww!" He swatted her shoulder with his bitten hand, wincing again at the fresh pain. "You're getting greedy again, Freya."

The horse snorted, still nosily chewing on the apple slice. The young man snorted back and handed her the second slice, shaking his hand in a vain attempt to alleviate the ache. Sheathing the skinning knife, he took up the harder of the two brushes and began to brush down the right side of her neck. Grimric proceeded to brush her entire right side before switching to the softer brush and using it to brush off any unwanted dirt or grime. Once he was done, he grabbed the other apple, sliced it in two and fed Freya. While she ate the second apple, the rider repeated the brushing this time on the horse's left side.

"There, much better. Now you look almost as good as the Mearas the silly dwarves think you are." Freya shook her head and bumped his chest with her nose. Grimric laughed, gently pushed her back and turned to take the roasted rabbit Kaldor offered him. He sat, biting eagerly into the cooked flesh to savour the taste and warmth. Too soon the meal was finished, but Grimric could not complain for it was good. He stood back up, picked up the carrot and stroked Freya's cheek.

"I think I'm going to have this carrot, I can't have you getting fat now can I?" Freya looked at him with her gray eyes with an almost sorrowful look. The young man laughed again.

"Okay, okay. Here's your carrot. There's a good girl." He crooned as he stroked her cheek, holding the carrot so she could eat it from his hand. She sniffed his hand once the carrot was gone and then turned away, her interest sated. Grimric grabbed his bow and restrung it, grabbing three arrows.

"I'll take the first watch." The Outrider informed the others as he walked away from the fire and stabbed his arrows into the snow a few feet away. His gaze was towards the horizon. When the clouds parted and the sun set, the rider's gaze strayed towards the still unfamiliar stars but he kept his watch.

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http://knightscharge.wordpress.com/
- My miniature gaming blog, sorry for lack of LOTR content right now.

Dwalvyn landed with a thud and grinned slightly at the amusement it likely brought. He gave the beautiful beast a solid pat as thanks and apology for his weight. He sat and enjoyed the meal as the others did, conversing with them amply.

"Good of you to offer, Master Horseman. Albaron, you'd best take watch with him - after all, you should both have a decent rest if possible." He looked at the party and added, "Anybody else wanting to help them may, but we shall take our shifts as usual. Kaldor and I shall take next shift and we'll go from there."

Sulvan watched and listened carefully to all that his earnstwhile companions said and did. Gimric would take first watch, Sulvan nodded and watched him with his eyes looking off. Dwalvyn had told him it would be good tojoin him, before deciding who would take second.

"Thank you Dwalvyn." He watched Scarr approaching the meat left out for him and almost smiled. then he turned to the matter at hand. He drew out his bow and held an arrow in the other hand, and he walked to the opposite side to that which Gimric was watching though he knew that Vrasghul would not be launching an attack. Sulvan was also concerned about his lack of contact recently with his paymaster, and wondered what he would do if he was not told of their recent activity. He decided to see if at some point during the night, he could try to slip out without the Rohirrim's notice and contact Ferny who could pass on his message. He was doubtful that he could make it in time, and considered asking Scarr, but the very sight of him would frighten Tom Ferny whitless, and who knows what he would do. Also, Sulvan was no longer certain that Ferny was even still following them. Hmmm... he thought.

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"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

Cyllamdir leaned with his back against a tree. He had finished the meal which one of the dwarves had prepared thankfully, and smiled a bit when he saw how the newcomer, Grimric, was taking care of his horse. Cyllamdir was glad to see that Grimric was treating the horse respectfully, and noticed that the man from Rohan really loved the animal.

Cyllamdir had not said anything when the others were discussing the fate of the troll. In his opinion, they should leave the troll, it was unlikely that the wounded troll would catch up with them, and therefore unnecessary to go back to the danger. However, if there were people who really wanted to risk their lives, Cyllamdir was fine with that. As long as he himself didn't have to go, that is.
And then it was decided that Albaron and Grimric would return to finish off the troll next morning.

Suddenly Cyllamdir wanted to be alone for a moment, and he walked off the camp for a short time. He stayed within the distance from where he was able to see the campfire. Now and then he heard the noise of birds or other animals, or he caught a glimpse of the warg Scarr. Wasn't it strange to have a wild warg as a pet? It was very unusual, and Cyllamdir was sure you could never trust a warg. Or at least he would never do so. And why did Albaron and Grimric really want to go back? An angry troll wasn't a nice destination, and going without the need to go seemed ridiculous!

For a short moment the idea of following the two the next day occured to him, but he quickly didn't think about that anymore, because it seemed odd. Or maybe not? Well, he would see. Cyllamdir walked back to the camp, hoping the others wouldn't find his short absence shady.

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The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

Grimric felt his neck prickle and he slowly turned to look behind him. He eyed the ranger Albaron for a moment, rolled his shoulders and looked away. Everything felt wrong about that man. The outrider started when he noticed a warg slinking through the trees, notching an arrow before he noticed the scar over the eye and calmed down a bit.

"I doubt that warg is really an ally..." He muttered darkly before nodding to the elf warrior who wandered back into camp. The young man rolled his shoulders again. He was hardly fond of elves, creatures of sorcery and treachery if the old tales held true, but he was few on allies in the cold north. Grimric let those dark thoughts drift to the back of his mind as he gazed at the stars and began to sing a soft slow song in the tongue of the Rohirrim. It was a song about Eorl the Young's taming of Felarof, sire of the Mearas.

When that song ended the Outrider sang another song, one he had thought of when he crossed the Anduin a year ago. It was a song about a maiden deemed the fairest in the lands and a young man's pursuit of her, so similar to many songs about the pursuit of love. Once more he fell silent and this time his voice stayed silent as his gaze came back to earth. Oh, but how much Grimric missed his homeland since he was lost in the wilderness.

The night dragged on and eventually his watch came to an uneventful end. Yawning, the rider unstrung his bow and put away both bow and arrows. He walked over to Kaldor and shook his shoulder.

"Tis time for the second watch. Looks calm and quiet for now." Turning away, Grimric unrolled his bedroll and settled in, resting his head against the saddle. After a while, he finally drifted into a restless sleep that last until the morning.....

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http://knightscharge.wordpress.com/
- My miniature gaming blog, sorry for lack of LOTR content right now.

Throught the passage of time during the night, Sulvan paced continuously, debating his dilemma with messaging, he suspected that Gimric would be tired, but did not try to sneak off. Instead he simply paced up and down. At one point, he was sure he saw the glint of metal armour and weaponry moving in the trees, but dismissed it instantlty.

When Gimric awoke Kaldor, Sulvan decided that he should wake someone, so he woke Dwalvyn. hough not content to sleep, he prepared himself, and lay down, closing his eyes, his brain refusing to shut itself down for the night...

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"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

Dwalvyn quietly thanked Albaron as he prepared for his watch and greeted Kaldor before wishing the two men a good rest and safe journey upon the morrow. He set himself up and watched patiently, making sure to keep an eye on all directions, drinking in all that he could see. It seemed Albaron's sleep wasn't brilliant, but he couldn;t be sure, so ignored it and continued at his post.

*Bump*

Arising from his bedroll, Kaldor wiped the sleep from his eyes, expecting to see the sun shining high in the sky, but was instead greeted with the recently familiar sight of blackness when he awoke.
"Were in the wrong place Dwalvyn, i can feel it in my blood" Kaldor exclaimed as he lit his pipe. "If we were heading the right way on the right road, we wouldn't have been attacked three times! With all due respect i think we need to re-think our route..."
He fell to the ground, being somewhat deprived of sleep and thus incapable of a graceful decent, and unsheathed his daggers. In the last few days his daggers had seen more fighting than they had in his whole lifetime. "Ridiculous" muttered Kaldor as he examined a newfound notch on his blade, which ran deep enough to crack off part of the tip "some use this'll be now!" moaned and groaned the chubby dwarf.
"Say" Kaldor turned back to his fellow watchman "Why are we even awake, shouldn't that... dog be keeping watch for us? It might be the fatigue talking but i trust it enough to keep watch!" Laughed Kaldor, ever entertained by his own antics.

The dwarf still remained unfamiliar with the tensions rising in the group, his focus was all upon getting to Bilbo, delivering the letter, and going home. The thought that Dain could have put someone untrustworthy on their team was far from the dwarf's mind, he had spent a long time in the iron guard working as a mercenary and working alongside other mercenaries, all of whom he found to be of respectable character. Kaldor was not familiar with the idea of betrayal, he had worked alongside the incompetent multiple times but never had he known anyone to actively seek out failing their comrades. Kaldor liked to think his blind faith had always been a strong point, it meant he had never fallen out with a paymaster and kept him safe, many people owed debts Kaldor thanks to his own goodwill and cashing in on these debts had kept Kaldor in the game. However now perhaps his lack of political wit was going to be his downfall...

Morning came and Kaldor was awake to see it arrive, the beauty of such a moment wore off after his first night with the party, he motioned towards Albaron and the rest of the party, gave one or two of them a friendly nudge and began setting up his good ol' stove to prepare some boiled oats.

dwalvyn hd simply responded with something regarding how evil is attracted to those on deeds and quests for the light of the Valar and how the minions of sauron are ever vigilant for those that appear to be on a mission. Then promptly bedded himself, half-hearing some muttering about the wolf-hound before landing in the realms of the unconcious.

He awoke to the nudging of Kaldor and wearily rose - sleeping in full kit wasn't great for rest, but wise for survival. Still, he could feel warmth in his breast at the sight of Kaldor's preparations for cooking. "A fine meal like the one you're brewing up ought to serve us well for the days ahead," he said through a gravelly morning voice in appreciation to kaldor's efforts.

Sulvan awoke to the sound of Dwarven voices. Opening his deeply bagged eyes, he glanced around. He could tell by how tired he was that he did not sleep well. The dwarves were muttering something about Evil, the Valar and how many times they had been attacked. Sulvan almost smirked upon hearing this, and the thoughr helped him to wake up a little more fully, though he still lay still with his eyes closed for a moment, getting up several moments later having decided what he would do next. There's too many of them, he thought, perhaps I should solve that little problem? Hmm.

Upon smelling boiled oats, he glanced around noticing that Dwarf, Kaldor over the stove. Nothing like a boiled meal before stirring up trouble, this time he actually did chuckle,waving it away to the others as an after effect of a humourous dream.

"Smells good," he hissed, his voice strange after his lack of fluids overnight, "How about a little sing song during breakfast to keep up the spirits?" he asked the Dwarves, having learned that most Dwarves looked a good sing song. The fools, he tutted.

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"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

"Aye" replied Kaldor "our company is diminished and we've come a mighty long way, perhaps a lyre telling of our pursuits thus far would be fitting. We could even drop in on Gramms folk and recall them our tale; I hear the brewing folk are kind and would reward us for our heroism, not to mention keeping their kinsman safe!" Laughed the podgy dwarf as he threw various spices into the cooking pot, desperately trying to spice up a painfully bland meal. Upon tasting it Kaldor gagged, managed to hide it from the others and proceeded to throw heaps of sugar into the pot "first 'bad' meal I've cooked in years" the guardsmen thought to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Kaldor served the meal into the party's individual bowls, saddened by how little their party had become. Being unable to move on, the dwarf tasted his now sweetened porridge type substance and re-assured himself he rescued it; ironically being so caught up In it made Kaldor blind to his companions reception of the breakfast.

Once breakfast was done and their kit was packed, Kaldor strolled up to Dwalvyn and handed him the map "another long day I assume?..."

"Each day is as long as any other, but the Winter night's draw longer than the Summer sun. Or, if I were to avoid waxing lyrical, it depends upon how you define long. So, yes. Especially if I keep talking in these riddles," Dwalvyn replied, and then grinned and chuckled. "my goodness, lad, you do know how to make a meal that puts a smile on me old wrinkles." He then pointed, nodded and started walking - he assume dthe rest would follow when they were ready. Over his shoulder, he added, "Start the song then, Kaldor!"

"Well we killed some spiders and we got some gold
Sent on our way through the land of old
Argued and fought all along the fold
Here's our mighty story to be told...""

The tune leapt from the dwarf's mouth in a most unsavoury manner; after failing to hit all the notes, and red with embarressment, Kaldor hung his head low and finished packing up his cooking gear.
"I can cook, but this dwarf ain't a total sissy, i can't sing!" Laughed the dwarf, nervously nudging his companions, hoping to gauge their laughter and forget about his songwriting attempt.

Kaldor wondered why the path, which had once been so full of danger and hazard, had fallen so silent of all dark tremors; even the trees from Mirkwood were looking less and less terrifying as the days went by. Unfortunatley for Kaldor he soon realized why the path had been rid of darkness and the forest so empty of evil, the party were approaching the rocky pass, the territory of the beast he faced while serving under lord Balin. A many few of his friends fell to the best, not necessarily because of it's ferocity or superior combat skill, but because it's existance was unknown. It had taken the dwarves unawares last time, but Kaldor had already warned his companions of the beast, it would not have the advantage of surprise this time. The creature was smart, smart enough to survive Balin's passing through it's land, and probably smart enough to have survived until now, Kaldor hoped not.

As the iron guard mulled this over in his head he realized something, the ground had gotten harder and the forest was looking thinner and thinner. Kaldor instantly suspected a trap, his instincts as a merchant guard kicking in; he knelt to the ground and began shoveling away the dirt, to soon find that under a thin layer of dirt, lied an abundance of greyrock, the same substance he remembered from the beasts lair in the grey pass! As he rose to his knees the trees faded into ash and the grass beneath his feet shriveled into rock to reveal that the party were, by the looks of it, deep within the mountain range, they must have underestimated the speed of their stride and the range of the plains!

"What is this foul trickery" Cried the dwarf, making sure not too raise his voice too highly "Since when could wyrms and trolls muster foul magics to trick the eye, does this beast have any honor?!?" He unsheathed both his knives, not expecting either of them to be of any use against the beast only for a single, croaking voice to cry out from the cracks of the pass: '
Who is a fool enough to enter Kraq the conqueror's domain?'
to which a band of a dozen goblins or so emerged from the crooks and crannies of the grey mountains, each harbouring a loaded bow. The speaker, who emerged himself as a short, crooked creature carrying a staff crafted from the bones of, what would presumably be his enemies, approached the party, outstretched his hand.

Roaring noon and Kaldor awoke to find himself chained to a wall by ashort, rusty chain of primitive goblin metal, he looked about to see both his companions beside him, and the rotting corpses of other, similarly unlucky prisoners, which littered the floor. Instinctively, he reahced for his weapons, only to find they had been taken, but he noticed they lay just outside the cell, stupid goblins! The cell looked like it was about 10 feet wide and on the other side of the room stood a lever, which would supposedly free them but alas their chains were too short to reach. To the left of the party stood a tall, stern goblin, who, despite the typical slouchy nature of his race, chose to stand tall and proud, like an elf or a nobleman would be expected to position themselves.
"Awake i see! Kraq will want to see you!" Laughed the goblin before skulking off up the stairs, and out of Kaldors sight. After a long sigh, Kaldor looked to Dwavlyn, whom he had grown to trust in completely
"What now?"

Baldr whinnied out in terror. Aethelwulf had been on his way to visit some relatives in the North, but apparently somewhere he had taken a wrong turn. He found himself on a patch of grey rock he did not know. And even if he could see nothing, the place felt evil. Very evil. Baldr sensed it too, and had nearly refused to go on. Gently, Aethelwulf led him forward, tense and prepared. Now, a grey mist started coming closer. And instinctively he knew, if that reached him, he was as dead as he would be when taken before Sauron himself, and all the Nazgul at that. He mounted, and let Baldr give in to his instincts in running back as swiftly as possible. However, the mist started to overtake him. Baldr, who had trotted down the woodland paths all day, and was now running for his life, suddenly let out a soft snort, and collapsed. He lifted his head once more, and then died. Aethelwulf shouted out in anger. No one, not even a mysterious deadly mist, killed a Rohirrim's horse. He pulled out his sword, Guthwyn, Battle-joy, and turned towards the mist. He blew his horn in defiance. Then the mist reached him.

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"... Telchar wrought it in the deeps of time."
-On Andùril, The Lord of the Rings

The approaching sound of rattling bones and clanking metal filled the walls of the dungeon. The nobleman goblin Kaldor had thought so strange entered, followed by the shaman who had presumably knocked the party out with his magic. Upon closer examination Kaldor noticed that his bone staff was made from the bones of dwarves, elves and men; which was strange, Kaldor had always thought shamans were not great fighters and by the looks of it, either was this one. The huge goblin who led him in took up his regular, intimidating stance outside the cell.

"Greetings, lesser ones, i am Kraq, the mighty conqueror of grey pass and tamer of the beast!" Announced the shaman "all fools who enter my domain are given a choice; join me, fight me, or die for me?!?" A few more goblins stalked in, who were evidently excited and let out a few yelps as Kraq talked of fighting or dying.
"Unfortunatley, you are lesser beings, and would be no use as a servant to me." Kraq then opened the cell with one of the bones on a chain around his neck and skulked over to the lever on the wall, he turned to the grate on the floor and shot a fireball from his hand through the cracks, which hit some sort of primitive beacon stored below them. The beacon illuminated the room below them and revealed an arena of sorts. The goblins watching had become overly excited now, one tried to rush in and pull the leaver but the towering nobleman goblin, who Kaldor had now figured out to be a gundabad blackshield (due to the wolfskin on his back), halted the goblin by clenching it's head and proceeded to crush it in, much to the enjoyment of the other goblins who let out yelps of laughter. Kraq snarled. His fingers twirled around the lever as a crooked smile appeared on his face.

A horn blew in the distance, Kraq and the goblins spun to attention.
"More intruders Kraq?" Asked the blackshield
"No, champion, it couldn't be! Four guests in one day? Let us leave this one to the beast." Upon those words the goblins leapt into a mad frenzy as they rushed out the halls of the keep, clearly bloodshed was of ultimate value to these goblins. Kraq and the blackshield left last, Kraq eyed the weapons container and unsheathed Sulvan's weaponry before shooting him a piercing glance.
"Are these weapons yours ranger?" Kraq asked, he motioned for the Blackshield to unchain him, which he did, and was dragged up the stairs and out of his companions view.

"You are a true servant of the enemy, yet you travel with these fools! Have you been turned? Are you on a mission from our lord? Tell me all the news from the south!" Rambled Kraq, who was evidently excited by the prospect of a true southener.

Meanwhile, further into the pass, Aethelwulf was being stalked by a creature of immense strength and cunning. The snarl and growl of the creature approached Aethelwulf, gradually becoming more and more visible through the mist, it's huge paws and immense mane were coming into form to the rohirrm. As it pierced the mist, one of the rocks seemed to lash out as if it had grown a long neck and seized the beast, gulping it down in one. A group fo claws also emerged from the boulders and began clambering up above the mist. A deadly tail lashed about behind it as the neck rose from it's feasting, revealing a terrifying lizard like head. A few goblins began appearing on the mountains above, as did, unawares to Aethewulf, Sulvan, accompanied by Kraq and his champion.
"Your horse is mine rohhirm" Announced the wyrm "You may live another few minutes should you let me feast on it as you run like a coward"

But Aethelwulf would not buy five minute of life at the cost of his honour. He stood firm, hoping beyond reason someone would save him. "Very well." The wyrm said, and struck at him with it's claws. Aethelwulf ducked them and stabbed up at the creatures neck. It coiled back, and then snapped it's jaws at him, as fast as lightning. Aethelwulf slammed his round shield on the beast's nose, but it did not seem to notice. He jumped back, yet still the beast grabbed hold of the shield. Only by letting it go could he save his life, and he did so. But now he was totally unprotected against the wyrm claws, as he could not hope his leather armour would foil them. Yet the wyrm did not strike. It slowly walked round him, testing his reflexes with short, swift strokes, but never endeavouring to kill him. "It's playing with me", Aethelwulf thought. Enraged, he jumped up, hacking fiercely at the paw of the monster. He pierced the thick scales and it yelped in pain, trying to turn around , but he kept close to it, where it couldn't strike him with full force. He stabbed Guthwyn at the monster again, and now it lifted up it's great bulk, trying to crush him under it. He crossed to the other side, and saw the mists weren't as thick there. As swiftly as he could, he chopped at the wyrm's heel, severing the muscles and making it limp. Then, he ran for his life.

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"... Telchar wrought it in the deeps of time."
-On Andùril, The Lord of the Rings