As we snuck around the 2-headed lumbering large orc, their hunched-over arm swaying indicated their feeble mindedness. Experimental outcasts. We continue trekking east-northeast before our shadows stretch beyond our sight. Camp and nightwatch without fire. Fortunate that only Rambler on 1st watch sees the flock of crebain fly across the moon from our back. Ill omen? Or is Brackrog’s watch sighting more foretelling – the high-pitched scream of a long-necked beast flying south on its long wingspan?
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Morning cold breakfast before our travels transition from
tall grass plains to barren rolling hills. The mountains finally on the horizon
suggesting a noon arrival at Mount Gram. Weapons checked and patient scan for
glint of metal or indications of lookouts.
Last minute notice of a shoddy fence
around a smelling feces packed pen backed up before a rock-wall cave. Watch
dogs? More like warg pens. Care to check the wind to make certain we are
downwind. A well-worn footpath leads to caves dotting the face of Mount Gram.
Banners with the symbol of a raised hand holding a ring flutter in the breeze.
Movement! Vikings we’d fought in the caves behind Mountain Hill! The hillmen of
Gundabad.
Decision to sneak around the pens to the back of the
Mountain where we spot 4 other entrances. Rambler sneaking forward notices
varying size cave openings and usage. We opt for the lesser used cave. Marching
order: Rambler, Ladee, Galanon, and the armor-laden Brackrog bringing up the
rear. Well almost; dog Garl in trail. Barely inside when R signals halt then
signals G forward to listen to the orcish conversation. Guards! Bored out of
their minds, “I came here to fight, not sit on my asrk. Just order us to attack
something! But no, he just stands starting at that damn thing.” “Shhh, if Thungard
heard
you, you’d be the next experiment.”
Is it a fight he wants, or just Brackrog wanting to smash
orc? Either way, we open the door finding 2 orc rolling die at a table. “Thunk,
thunk.” Arrows in their chests, then Rambler and Brackrog rushing into melee.
Then silence after the last falls, except for the “sluup” noise the dwarf’s
hammer makes being pulled out of the orc’s neck. Consideration to spike the door
to prevent other orc from coming this way if we need to retreat out the cave.
But the door at the back of the room reveals more passages and guard rooms. We
opt to stick to these back hallways rather than the main cave passage.
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Endless hallways, doors, silence, and more occupied guard
rooms the deeper we venture. The elf and dwarf comparing kill counts. More
guards complaining. This “Thungard” sounds pre-occupied. What could possibly
consume all his attention? Stairs up, other rooms caved-in, more guards. Their
numbers growing such that we risk encounter with 4-5 orc or hillmen. Fortune we
slaughter them all before one can escape to sound an alarm. Then one too many
chances: Rambler peeking around the corner into a room is spotted. Elvish
arrows plunge into orcish chests, and Ladee rushes into the room to harass
another orc, hoping his allies join the melee. Except one orc blocks the
entrance preventing his allies’ movement; thus, the hobbit dancing with 3 orc.
Ladee surrounded and taking a beating.
His allies soon forge into the room, Rambler thrusting
his blade deep into the last orc’s nostril. Soon all orc dead but the hobbit
needing time to bandage his wounds. Then back exploring, finding an occasional
passage their leads to light…another exit from the mountain. Deeping into the
mountain, passages cloaked in darkness thus the need for Ladee to carry a torch
for his allies. Halt as Rambler hears moaning. The door opening unto a torture
chamber. Orc and hillmen chained to the wall. Amputations. The source of the
extra arms we’d seen on the beasts within Amon Sul?
“Save us or put us out of our misery! Ungabald recruited
us orc. Bratha recuited us hillmen. But they lied; not to fight, but to be
sacrificed! Thungard leads here. He or that eye he answers to. Stares at all
day and night.” Galanon was eager to oblige as he slices their necks, “What? I
put them out of their misery as they asked!” Another room with multiple voices.
The elf eager to fight again but we leave with knowledge gained overhearing
their conversation, “Without the daggers, we cannot make more beasts. Thungard
needs to retrieve those blades! Quit complaining before he comes down to
experiment on you!”
Rambler pulling all aside, “Did you hear? Not that they
miss the daggers. No, they said ‘come down.’ Their leader Thungard is
upstairs!” More passages, guard rooms, and stairs leading up to the 3rd
and final floor. So much walking, Galanon pauses to eat his last Lembas bread
to avoid exhaustion. One turn after another suggests we are getting deeper into
trouble, till Rambler calls halt and silence before a well-lit opening. He
peers inside.
Ten orc pace around the large chamber (60x65). Bored but
not saying anything. Then the reason why. Standing mesmerized before a
ball-topped pedestal stands the large orc shaman (Thungard) we’d fled from
outside Rivendell. The glint of Dunedain weapons hanging on racks behind him.
Galanon pissed others want to pause to plan. Rambler and Ladee sneaking in to
hopefully gain melee range with the shaman. 15 feet short of their mark when
elvish arrows fly across the room and sink into the shaman’s chest. So much for
stealth!
Brackrog anxious to charge into melee but the elf has
other plans, “Block the entrance to give me freedom to loose more arrows!”
Deadly aim against the shaman deep in a trance. Critical hits such as the last
that slices his carotid artery, dropping the leader who hasn’t spoken a single
command.
The last arrow plunging into the neck just as Rambler
lunges forward to attack. A pained cry escapes his lips as he mistakenly stares
at the orb on the pedestal. Ladee advancing too, then hears “Baggins” announced
from the orb. The hobbit throws his cloak over the orb to save his own sanity
while blinding the eye.
Even tho their leader is dead, these orc fight
relentlessly and with fury. An equal battle till the voice inside Rambler’s
skull wins out…the woodsman retreats in fear, leaving the hobbit out-numbered
and overwhelmed. Till Ladee raises his sword (Flame of Hope) shouting, “Stay
brave and true my friend.” The spell broken. Or whatever fear distracted the
woodsman. The balance sways our way once more…the last orc soon bleeding out on
the floor.
“Phew!” We gather the Dunedain weapons as Galanon lifts
the Palantir by its cloak cover and hefts it over his shoulder. Confidence and
jubilation at our success till we hear the “SCREECH” of a Ringwraith apparently
called to protect the palantir!
Loved the Ringwraith wail.
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