A20: “See to the East”

It’s already late evening when we exit The Huntress’ caves; so, we make camp within the valley. Campfire to compare of notes and decisions of our next actions once we return to Weathertop. Morning sun cresting over the eastern rise bring glint of carved stones worth investigating. An ancient Arnor outpost, “Probably more of them north along the Weather Hills as a run of watchtowers and signal fires.” Now collapsed stones and a few rusted dagger blades.

By noon we reach the foot of Amon Sul and begin the rope-aided climb to the top. Pause for lunch (3^rd meal for some). “Did you scout for fresh tracks since we left?” Silence. With weapons ready we stand before the glyph and speak “Duin.”

The hand rises from the stone offering a handle…an awkward pause before Brackrog steps forward to grasp it, opening the trapdoor. The dwarf notices dark streaks (dried blood) on the backside of the door before peering into the dark below. His dwarven vision easily making out a withered orc body and its meatless fingertips (scraped to the bone in its frantic efforts to escape this tomb).

Rowlie’s lantern cast light down, revealing more goblin remains. These gnawed to the bones, by something else within these rooms! Galanon is the last to enter, taking time to jam the trapdoor open “Just in case.” A door near the back of this circular room opens into descending stairs toward passages. The left blocked by placed stones. The right curves toward an inner door. Sounds of scurrying and clawing brings our weapons higher. As the door opens, rats retreat from Rowlie’s lantern. Other rat carcasses scattered about the plundered room that was once a barrack. Smashed beds and possible racks torn from the walls. Was a creature on a rampage chasing its last meal thus the destruction?

We return to the blockade where the dwarves start digging. 3 layers of stone…something BIG must be trapped within. As an opening widens, musty air flows up. These steps open to a 3^rd floor room.

A large 4 foot tall pedestal occupies the center. The top, a large foot-wide bowl set with 4 prongs (like the prongs of a ring set to hold a diamond). Ancient writings on the outer walls, “Looks Numenorian. Says ‘See to east’. This must be where the fabled Palantir was laid. You know, the seeing stone.”

Galanon is already on the move to the next door to the rear. “Click.” We descend to a 4^th floor where Rowlie hears creaking beyond another door. Locked AND wedged shut with spikes under the bottom on our side. Ladee first unlocks the door. Then Brackrog steps forward, “Someone locked something inside. Standback.” His hammer but a glancing blow that skips off the wedge. So much for surprise. Another swing has the spike clanking free and ricocheting off the walls. An aberration lays on the table within the room.

An experiment. The orc pushes itself up off the table…with 3 other arms dangling at its sides! Of the 5 arms, two seem lifeless…as if they haven’t “connected” properly. Snarls and grunts as the tormented beast attacks. Arrows before we charge into melee surrounding the beast. The orc soon collapsed; one arm still twitching as if it didn’t get the word that the rest of the beast is dead.

The door to the rear leads down to the basement. The air moist with the scent of must and dirt. Across the room, a goblin perched in a chair holding out a scroll. Rambler’s arrow quick to stifle any casting. Except closer look reveals this goblin long dead; its eyes already bulging out. Rowlie stepping onto the dirt-floor to retrieve the scroll, when the dirt begins to ripple. Hands rising out of the ground! The Breeman jumps back to the landing, as Galanon speaks to the dirt, “This seems a burial ground of ancient Dunedain. Pissed that their resting has been disturbed by orc.”

Rowlie tries to offer solemn pray, but his words fall on deaf ears. He kneels on the dirt trying to talk to the hands. On fingertips, they walk toward him in threatening manner. As Rowlie climbs back upon the ledge, bugs scuttle out of the burial cloth still clinging to the dismembered arms.

The dwarves have other ideas as they retreat. And soon return lugging the orc body that they toss upon the dirt-floor. Desiccated hands rise up and start shredding the body. “Quick, find something else to span the gap to the scroll.” Doors are ripped from their frame and laid further upon the dirt. Then Dolomite rushes across the ‘bridge’ to retrieve the scroll. Upon return, he has to jump the last yards as the orc body is pulled under.

The scroll has the symbol of a blue eye at the top. Instructions that read, “Bring the weapons north to the mountain where the Army of Vengeance for Golfimdul await.” But which mountain? “Maybe the library at Trusslebridge will have the answer.” We climb back to the top of Amon Sul where Dolomite pushes the ‘hand’ back down. It recedes into the stone slab resealing the trapdoor. Days trudging north along the spine of the Weather Hills as we return to the rangers’ home.

But our knock at the entrance door goes unanswered. Near dusk before rangers returning from patrol have us turn our backs as they ‘open’ the entrance to reveal the ranger city along the cliff walls. The dwarves head to the tavern for ale; Ladee there for his 6^th meal. Rowlie there to perform for this new set of rangers.

Morning brings us to the library doors and entrance to show the scroll to the scholar. “Golfimdul. In the 3^rd age, he led orc troops from Mount Gram to attack the Shire and so caused the ‘Battle of Greenfields’. It was Bandobras Took who charged the leader, knocking his head off with a club. According to legend, Golfimbul’s head flew thru the air for 100 yards before rolling down a rabbit hole.” Ladee perks up at mention of the famed hobbit lineage. Then Rambler joins the conversation, “But that was eons ago. What would spur the orc now to seek revenge? It must be outside influence. This ‘eye’ other orc have mentioned or drawn symbols of. Just like the banner those orc outside Rivendell carried.”

And so it is, we spend the evening gathering provisions for our journey east toward Mount Gram. “You know, there is an army forming there. Those Numenorian weapons stolen almost a year ago already secured if not destroyed. Just what do we hope to accomplish? Reconnoiter?” And so it is, Ladee springs to life with realization, “Just think. A hobbit patrolling the borders of the rangers hoping to protect their kind. Keep them safe. When do we leave?!”

The eastern expanse is fields of flowing tall grass, hampering the hobbit’s vision. After a couple of days, ranger sightings dwindle. More troubling, most of our rations spoiled from moisture. All eyes turn to the hobbit munching on an apple, “What? I closed the bag.” Now all eyes on the lookout for game, when Galanon spies movement to the north. A group of large humans bundled in furs trek southbound. Rowlie approaches to greet them. Their cowls pulled tight even thou the day is warm. Pleasant exchange. Ladee wandering to the rear to converse with an elder. Their talk turning to herbs. The elder offering, “Ah, for healing you want these mushrooms.” Ladee sniffs then puzzles [natural 20], “But these are of the poisoned variety.” His quizzical brow raises higher when the elder pulls out a blade and swings!

“ENEMY!” Blades flash as lowered cowls reveal half-orc. Their leader barking orders, “Spies from the south. Let them know.” An orc disengages and rushes north thru the tall grass. Brackrog drops the closest orc, giving the archer Galanon perch to climb higher to sight the runner, “Thunk.” The threat of alarm no more. “Capture one!” But Dolomite more intent on killing. Till only the elder threatening the hobbit remains. The side of a blade dropping him. Dazed and tied up for questioning. But the only information gathered is his boss named “Bursgard.” Dolomite ends the interrogation by lopping off the orc’s head with his axe. The head rolling to a stop near a small gopher hole.

By evening we find a sinkhole to camp. Morning brings miles-and-miles of rolling plains. Not even the hint of mountains ahead. We are lulled into boredom and drowsiness till Rowlie spies 4 LARGE creatures further ahead. Somewhat swaying as if swinging a scythe. Too far to discern detail, so we move closer. Almost troll size. With TWO heads! Are these the “experimental beasts created to see in both directions?” Close enough to see one head seemingly sewn on. And a 3^rd arm! Dolomite and Rambler oh so anxious to attack with surprised arrows. Till reason and caution wins out with stealth as we maneuver far and wide of this threat.