Middle-Earth Role Playing Campaign

"So, who's going on this trip to the river?" asked Mîriel.

"I don't think I'll be going," said Luinár.

"And I'm staying behind to make sure you don't even try," Mîriel retorted.

"I, too, will stay behind," said Araquenval. "I know not wood-lore, so I would be of little help searching for healing mosses. Mîriel, you should go, and I will tend to your sister."

Mîriel looked at Luinár, then shook her head. "I don't trust her by herself. If I leave her alone, she's sure to do something else that's stupid."

"This cave is no Hobbit-hole," said Bradlegar, "but it feels better than out on the plain. I'm not much for day trips, you know."

"But they'll need your eyes," said Mîriel. "I think you should go. Let's see: we'll need someone who can look for plants--that's either me or Rhôn, and I'm staying behind. And someone who can fight: Rhôn can do that as well. Dennenor's still healing up from that arrow he took, so I'm afraid he'll only slow people down."

"As well," said Araquenval, "it would be prudent to have a fighter remain behind, in case we are beset from outside, or from the cave. Dennenor is the best one for that, and he will not need to travel."

Bauglir spoke. "I would like to come along. I can go unseen for a considerable period of time. And I also think Bradlegar should come, too. He's small and easy to hide, and can use a bow."

"Then I think we are agreed," said Mîriel. "The smaller the group, the better. Rhôn, Bauglir, and Bradlegar will go. Dennenor will have to stay behind to protect those who remain. Araquenval can stay and bond with his Orc. I'm giving a kathkusa leaf to Bauglir, and am sending with Rhôn some mirenna berries, zulsendura, megillos, and the gefnul. I want all of you coming back alive!"

"And what about other supplies?" asked Bradlegar. "I'm sure we're planning on being back here for supper-time, but what if something happens and we have to spend the night? Should we not take a tent and bedrolls?"

"The tent is a good idea," said Bauglir. "We'll not be using the horses: in this terrain a person on foot is just as fast. Rhôn can carry the tent and I'll take the bedrolls. Perhaps you can carry the food. And we'll carry our own water."

They gathered together all they needed. Just before heading out, Bauglir studied the map carefully to make certain he knew their position. Then while Araquenval took Maz-hur outside to feed him the worm egg, Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn, Bauglir, and a reluctant Bradlegar set out on their mission.

"Time is the enemy," said Rhôn. "Longer we are on plain, more chance enemies see us. Move quick and be careful."

The terrain was the same as before: broken rock all over, punctuated with deep chasms. Rhôn had difficulty finding trails of any description. They travelled some five hours over the barren landscape, eventually making for an outcropping of rock they had spied. Then Bauglir called a halt.

"That's no outcropping of rock," he exclaimed. "It's a guard tower!"

Bradlegar looked at it as carefully as he could. "We're at least a mile from it. I can't determine if there's anyone there or not."

"We should go east, then, as well as south," said Bauglir.

"I wonder what the tower's watching?" Bradlegar asked.

"River," said Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn.

So they veered off to the left and headed south-east, away from the tower. Within half an hour the ground in front of them gave way to a large chasm, though which flowed a river: probably not the Angsiril, but one of its tributaries. A grassy bank ran from the base of the cleft to the water.

Rhôn climbed down the side to the bank. "Place looks good," he called from below. "Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn now searches for plants that heal. Pretty man and little one watch for enemies."

Carefully the Wose surveyed the banks of the river. Almost immediately he found edram, perfect for Luinár, for it could heal bone fractures. A few minutes more and he uncovered arfandas, also useful for mending broken bones. From the icy cold waters of the river came attanar, which would cure fevers, and melandar, which improved resistance to disease. Growing on the bank he found three arpsusar stalks, which would restore Dennenor's bad leg. He dug around the base of a rock and uncovered febfendu, a root that could restore hearing. Bauglir picked three berries and showed them to Rhôn, who identified them as suranie: useful in battle, for they would relieve stunning. And just prior to leaving for the trek back home, the Wose spotted a squat bush with broad leaves and plucked ten of them. It was dynallca, a mild poison.

The return trip was easier: Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn picked up the trail they had made coming down, and they followed it back to the ravine where the rest of the group was staying in the cave. The trip had taken them the entire day.

"Good news!" said Bradlegar as they entered, relieved to see nothing was amiss. "We've found some plants that should get everyone back into top form!"

"What did you get?" asked Mîriel.

In response, Rhôn handed her the collection of mosses, roots, and leaves he had gathered at the river, describing each one in turn. "You did do well," she said after examining them. Taking the edram, she fed it to her sister. "This will mend the bone," she said. "Just be careful, for it will take some time to regain its full strength. Don't do anything harsh with your leg for the next week or two, or you risk breaking it again."

"I thank you all for this," said Luinár.

"'Thank you' not needed," said Rhôn. "We made trip to river because it was best thing to do."

Then Mîriel boiled up all three arpsusar stalks. "I've had a good day, too," she said. "While you were gone I brewed up the zur fungus. I have three doses of it. Two I could put into one water skin, and Dennenor was kind enough to give me another to hold a dose of it. I also prepared the jegga poison. It may come in useful in battle. Dennenor practised a bit with that long sword we got from the Easterlings and Araquenval spent time with his pets. Here, Dennenor, drink this. It should bring you back to working order."

The Elf drank down the bitter broth. His leg stung and itched for a few minutes, then Dennenor said it felt healed. The other two doses they put into a water skin.

By the time Dennenor's leg was healed it was late evening. Araquenval again cast his familiar spell on his bat Burzot before going into mediation. Prior to turning in for the night, Bradlegar went to Araquenval and asked, "What are you going to do with that little Orc friend of yours while you are sleeping?"

"I sleep not, my Hobbit friend," Araquenval replied, referring to the Elves' practice of resting and meditating during the night.

"A bit beside the point," Bradlegar replied. "Basically, you're out of commission for a few hours every night, and that's when the Orc is most likely to be awake, and a bother."

"We shall take the same practice we did the night before: Maz-Hur sleeps at my feet during my meditation and my watch. As well, always we have two awake, guarding to ensure nothing catches us unawares."

The answer seemed to satisfy the Hobbit, and he went to his bed and slept soundly. Maz-hur, too, adjusting with apparent ease to a new schedule, went to sleep at Araquenval's feet. The night was cold, but it passed quietly.

An hour before sunrise, Araquenval heard the clatter of stones tumbling down the side of the ravine outside the cave entrance. At his feet, the Orc opened his eyes perked up his head.

"Maz-hur," said Araquenval, "go outside and see what is happening."

Carefully the Orc moved to the entrance. Instead of looking out, though, he stood at the door, carefully sniffing the air. "Ohhhh," he moaned.

"What do you smell?"

"Don't know. Not going out there, master!"

"That is all right--you do not have to. Do not worry; I shall not punish you." Then Araquenval alerted Bradlegar. He came over and asked, "Well, what's going on?"

"Quiet, please," Araquenval replied. "Go wake the others."

"Is there something out there?"

"Maz-hur thinks there is."

Bradlegar did as he was asked, quickly waking the others. They assembled into a battle formation, still rather unsure why, with Araquenval unable to supply any real answers.

"Perhaps someone should use the dreaming-stone and see what's out there," Bauglir suggested.

"Good counsel," replied Araquenval. He took the olorkorna and stared deeply into it, while the others readied for a fight, preparing weapons and spells.

"Something large is approaching," said the Elf after a minute.

"I know," said Bradlegar. "I've been able to hear it for the last half a minute or so. It's muttering nonsense to itself, so it's alive, and it's getting closer. Sounds a little like my Uncle Andy, actually. We didn't talk very much about Uncle Andy, but we do still include him in our family tree. From the sound of its footsteps, I'd say it's a pretty sizeable fellow that approaches."

"Load your bow, Maz-hur," Araquenval told the Orc. He did so, while Bauglir moved quickly to put out the fire.

A minute later all light from the outside was blocked, as if a curtain had been drawn across the entrance. They heard a loud sniffing, then a voice boomed in, "Who inside? Me smell Elf! Ha ha ha ha ha ... Elf really good!"

"Actually, there's just me," said Araquenval, "but I know where there are lots of tasty Elves you can have if you leave me alone."

"Me take your head and make my bread," came the voice, "and turn rest of you into jelly! Ha ha ha ha ha!" The creature entered the cave and carefully made its way toward the group, its massive bulk seeming to fill the entire tunnel. The horses, stationed between the entrance and the people, skittered a little, then ran past the group toward the cavern beyond, stopping just short of its entrance.

"`Who's there?' I said. Who in my bed?" the creature called.

"Ah, is this your home?" asked Dennenor.

"It was," Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn rumbled beside him.

The creature spoke again, sounding almost pleased. "More than one of you? Ha ha ha ha ha! Jelly! Don't go far: me get my jar!"

"I wonder if we could confuse it by getting it to count us all?" asked Mîriel.

"Well," said Bradlegar, "this is a troll, or I'm not my Uncle's nephew. I've heard a bit about stone-trolls, and this chap here seems to be bigger than one of those."

"Creature calls cave home," said Rhôn. "Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn believes it is cave troll." Luinár and Dennenor ate their kathkusa leaves.

"Luinár," said Mîriel to her sister, "your leg is still healing. You be careful!"

Luinár gave an ambiguous reply, something she rarely did. "If I was careful, I wouldn't be here," she said.

"Well, we should be careful," rejoined Bradlegar, "it may be carrying rocks."

"Let's see," said Mîriel. She cast a light spell and shone it down the hall. Standing in it was a huge thick skinned creature, well over ten feet tall, wearing garments enough to protect it from the cold, but no armour. In one big hand it held a sack over its shoulder; in the other it grasped a massive club, as if it had pulled a tree from the ground and torn off the branches. It lumbered down the hallway toward the waiting fighters, a sort of silly smile on its huge face.

"Surrender or die!" called Araquenval.

The Elf's challenge had a remarkable effect. Up until now the troll had been almost amicable, rumbling on about turning the group into bread, jams, jellies, and the like. But its mood changed when it heard Araquenval's words: a storm burst upon its face and its eyes blazed with fierce anger. "Pretty Elf," it roared, and its voice boomed like thunder. "I will eat you first!"

Raising its club as high as it could, the troll burst into the chamber where the group stood ready. Immediately it was hit by Luinár, who broke the arm in which it held the club. Then Dennenor struck, cutting open a leg. Bleeding heavily, the troll cursed furiously, flailing about with its good arm in a vain attempt to strike someone. Bradlegar fired an arrow: it hit the shoulder. Dizzy now from the hits and loss of blood, the troll fell to one knee, and Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn moved in to deliver the final blow with his war mattock. The troll stopped its roaring and crashed to the floor of the cave, raising a great cloud of dust. Bradlegar and Maz-hur scrambled out of the way just in time.

"So, Maz-hur," asked Araquenval after the dust had settled, "would you like us to give you a chance to kill the next troll we meet?" The Orc shook its head: he was a bit overwhelmed by the sudden attack and the awesome efficiency of the group's response.

After checking to make sure the troll had not brought along company, Mîriel went to the horses and calmed them down. Bradlegar ran over to the sack the troll had been carrying and tried to haul it off the body. He did not succeed: the sack was heavier than he was, and the Hobbit's strength was not enough even to budge it. Even strong Dennenor, still influenced by the kathkusa, was barely able to shift it. So they opened the sack where it lay and went through its contents.

First things they pulled out were two huge crockery jars. "Open these jars and see what's inside," said Araquenval said to Maz-hur. The little Orc braced both his feet on the jar and tried with all his strength to pry off the lid. When it did not budge, he cursed, pulled his sword, and hit the jar twice. Chips flew off but it did not break.

"Let's not worry about the jars," said Mîriel. "Even if whatever is inside there is not totally disgusting, we probably still wouldn't want it!"

Next in the sack was a broadsword, beautifully wrought: the sheath covered in jewels and the cross-piece was set with two great emeralds. Also in the sack was a full set of chain mail; a glass eyeball, which proved not to have any magic in it; and three thousand tin, a thousand copper, 350 bronze, and 25 gold coins. "The bronze and gold coins will be useful in Angmar," said Bauglir, "for bribes are an excellent way of getting out of tight situations. The tin and copper coins are not worth their weight to carry."

The sword proved to be a disappointment: the jewels were but glass, and the blade was not balanced at all. Bauglir suggested it was for ceremonial purposes rather than battle, perhaps buried with a fighter in his grave. Araquenval gave it to Maz-hur, saying, "Here, take this, for it is a fine weapon for a leader. You may have it."

The Orc accepted the gift greedily. "Maz-hur now rich!" he said.

Likewise the chain mail was well below standard: it was far too light in weight to be useful. "It is made of bronze!" said Bauglir in disgust after examining it. "Probably the Wose's armour would protect as well as this." He threw it on the ground, and Dennenor struck it with his sword, and the chain cleaved in half like butter.

Araquenval decided to keep the glass eye, saying he thought it might come in useful in some situation. The troll also had a couple of smaller sacks. One was empty and the other obviously had something in it. But when they went to open it, the sack suddenly squeaked, "Thief! Thief! Put me down, let me go, wake up you big galoot, we're being robbed!"

Bradlegar almost dropped the sack in astonishment and snapped it shut again. The sack stopped squeaking. Mîriel looked at the troll. "He doesn't appear to have noticed," she said. "What's in it?"

Bradlegar reopened the sack, and again it began to squeak, "Put me down, put me down! You can't be taking me!" Bradlegar thrust a hand inside; the squeaking muffled considerably. Then the hobbit pulled out an enormous blue jewel, about the size of a goose egg, finely worked with many facets. A sapphire, they figured: it was not glass. The group gazed in wonder at such a treasure, and even its value they could not tell, for none among them knew gems, to put a price on one.

The sapphire had no magic, but the bag it was in had a spell bound into it. After some experimentation they determined it would squeak out its warning if it was opened while it had an object of any sort inside. Since the bag was a useful enough container for the sapphire, they returned it there, and gave them both to Mîriel.

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Based on events played to May 23, 1997. Accesses since September 30, 1998: