Middle-Earth Role Playing Campaign

"Did somebody drug my food last night?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Oh dear," quipped Bradlegar. "We didn't put enough in!"

Araquenval walked over to Bauglir and addressed him. "Fellow mage, does it makes sense for a mage to stroll up to a Troll and attack him?"

Bauglir raised his eyebrows. "Ah, yes ... that is what happened." He examined his helm. Determining it to be undamaged, he clamped it on his head, and winced.

Dennenor appeared to have recovered from his encounter with the ghost. Satisfied he could ride, they decided to pack up the camp and get on the road once again. Bauglir searched the Trolls for treasure. "Rubbish!" he exclaimed after going over all four bodies. "Only copper! They must have better stuff back at their hold."

"Then we should go off in search of it," said Mîriel.

Luinár disagreed with her sister. "We have to get word of this shard to Rivendell."

"Yes," replied her sister, "and to do that we have to go south through the Troll area and right past their hold."

"We can come back for it."

"It is too far to come back."

Luinár looked hard at Mîriel. "The message we carry has a greater purpose than our own desires."

Bradlegar jumped into the discussion. "Troll-holds make a nice little side adventure," he said.

"And would you march right on by and leave the Trolls to terrorize the area?" asked her sister.

Luinár sighed. Perhaps because Bradlegar wanted to, or perhaps because she knew she could not win an argument with her sister, she deferred. "All right," she said, "but only if it's right on our way."

"And it will be a nice day," said Bauglir, examining the sky. "We should take care of the Troll hold and then ride away as quickly as we can."

Because they had been stealthy the night before, the Trolls had left few marks close to the camp. But further out they had not been as careful, and Rhôn easily picked up the trail. It led away from the camp and down a canyon through the hills. Some sixty feet across it was, and thirty feet high the walls; Araquenval realized anyone who wished could easily mount an attack from above.

"We're vulnerable here," he said when they had ridden but a short distance in.

"We may be able to help that," said Bauglir. "Would you consider a pair of invisibility spells?"

"Not practical," said Dennenor. "We would not be able to see each other, and so would have to talk to know where everyone was."

"And the horses make noise," Mîriel added. "Also, if Trolls inhabit this area, the only other creatures about will be Orcs. We would be unlikely to encounter them during the day; this far from Angmar there will be few Uruks."

"All the same," said Bauglir, "we should keep an eye open for traps. The Trolls may have set some to catch travellers such as we unawares, and check them at night."

"But not only traps have we to worry about," said Araquenval. "We could be ambushed by a party riding above. I shall scout." He dismounted and picked up a few pebbles from the ground. "I will use these to alert you if I see something," he told the others. Then he floated upward and vanished.

They rode on carefully, Bradlegar and Dennenor holding bows at the ready. The Trolls' trail was easy to find and follow, for the canyon floor was dry and dusty. Here and there some boulders contentedly lay. The ground was scored with dry rivulets, and from time to time they passed by a pool of standing water.

Flying above them, Araquenval could see paths along the top of the canyon. Who made them, he had no idea. Animals, perhaps. From his vantage point he could see the canyon wander in a southerly direction into the hills, and flew higher to gain a better view. From his new vantage point he saw the hills were broken, riddled with cracks and crevasses. Perhaps an hour from their current position the canyon they were in widened out and another met it from east, then continued southward through the hills. His survey done, he flew ahead of the group, descended to a handy stone, and waited for the others to catch up.

Mîriel's ears caught the sound of Elven-song ahead of them. "Hello, Araquenval," she called when she figured they were close enough. "What news?"

"The hills appear deserted," came the Elf's voice. "I saw no movement from up there. The canyon we are in goes directly through the hills: with good fortune, we should be out of them today."

"Any sign of the Troll hold?" asked Bauglir.

"None that I could see," came the response.

"It will not be too far," said Luinár. "The Trolls made it to our camp by the end of the first watch."

The sun rose higher into the sky, and quickly the shallow walls of the canyon no longer afforded them protection from its heat. On they rode through the dry, dusty gorge. Near mid-morning, Bauglir announced he would do some scouting, and floated off his horse and vanished.

Shortly they heard him speak. "Ahead the canyon takes a turn like a horseshoe," he reported, "and upon the outside edge is a chasm from which I can see steam rising."

"Look sharp!" called Mîriel. "I would be surprised if that was not the Troll-hold we've been looking for."

They made the turn in less than five minutes. Still following the Troll's trail on the ground, Rhôn tracked it to the very edge of the gorge. He reigned his horse to a stop, then turned and looked at the others. "Trolls come from here," he said.

Dismounting, he examined the ground more closely. Troll footprints headed in other direction as well; they appeared to him to be older than the ones they had been following. Ahead of them the Trolls' trail descended a short distance down a steep, narrow path, disappearing into a gaping hole in the rock face.

At Dennenor's suggestion, Araquenval sent Burzot down the path and into the cave. Not far from the entrance the little bat flew past a tunnel that headed off to the left, and a little further beyond another went right. Uncertain what its master intended of it, Burzot circled twice and flew back. Araquenval reported its findings to the others.

"Shall we go in?" asked Mîriel. "We still don't know if there are any trolls here or not. We're not sure if the four we killed last night cleaned this place out."

Bradlegar put up a hand. "How about if I went in, invisible?"

"Alone?" asked Luinár.

"Why not?"

"Well, as long as you come back at the first sign of trouble," said Luinár.

"I shall cast the spell," said Bauglir. "But even in normal circumstances the troll may smell him before it sees him. Would someone else be willing to do a smell mirage as well?"

"I will do that," said Araquenval. Both the mages concentrated briefly, then Bradlegar vanished.

Quickly and quietly Bradlegar ran down the steep slope to the entrance of the troll-hold. There being no door to bar the way, he entered. Moving as quietly as possible, he stole down the tunnel past the first of the two side-tunnels Burzot had seen. At the second one he paused and listened carefully. No sound came from there, and no draft.

Bradlegar continued down the main tunnel toward a ruddy glow at the other end. It came from a room at the end of the tunnel where a door stood slightly ajar. To this Bradlegar came. Careful not to make a sound, he poked his head through the crack and peered into the room.

The room was large, as befitted Trolls that stood ten feet tall. Across the room opposite the entrance door was another door, closed and apparently locked. In a crude chair a large Troll with long scraggly hair was asleep, talking to itself. "Can I take this one out with one shot?" Bradlegar asked himself, fingering his bow. But then his Hobbit-sense came through, and he retreated from the room back into the dark hall.

Returning the way he came, he passed by first tunnel, now on his left, then paused and peered down the next. Although his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and some light shone in from the entrance, he still could not see down it. A foul odour wafted out. Bradlegar quickly moved to find cleaner air, then left the hold.

A small clattering of stones alerted the rest of the party to his presence as Bradlegar left the cave. Quickly he climbed the slope and rejoined them, then reported his little trek and the sleeping Troll.

"We should kill this Troll also," said Mîriel. "But the way down is too steep for the horses. One of us would have to remain behind to tend them."

"You can do that," said Luinár.

"Thanks, sis," Mîriel replied. "But if you break a leg in there, don't come running back out to me!" Luinár grinned, then removed her armour to cast shadow on herself.

"I will leave Burzot at the entrance to the cave," said Araquenval. "As long as I am within range, you should be able to send us a warning through him."

"Thank you," she replied. "But I doubt we will be bothered. We have not seen any other signs of life in these hills--the Trolls probably saw to that. While you are away, I will use a nature's awareness spell to prevent being taken unawares."

Once Luinár had cast her spell and put her armour on, they carefully climbed down the steep path to the entrance, then entered it two by two, Bradlegar and Luinár in front. Rhôn made a sour face as they passed the first tunnel. "Garbage dump," he said. At the second he asked for a halt. Dennenor stumbled and nearly fell over Bradlegar.

"You are invisible," he told the Hobbit. "Please be more careful."

"Sorry," said Bradlegar. "I'll try to remember."

Rhôn peered up the second tunnel. "Goes up," he reported. "Goes up long way."

Carefully they continued down the main passage until they reached the door at the far end. Here Bauglir took a minute to cast a long eye spell and spy into the room. "Watch your step!" he whispered. "There is a large Troll turd behind it!"

Led by Luinár and Bradlegar they entered. Debris and offal lay scattered all over the floor: although this appeared to be their main living area, they obviously made no attempt to keep it clean. A fire burned low in the middle of the room. In the crude chair the Troll slept on, unaware of the murderous party stealing in. Moments later Dennenor and Luinár flanked it on either side, then raised their swords and struck. The first blow was not fatal, and the Troll awakened and screamed. Black blood spurted from a severed vein. In came Rhôn, breaking the Troll's leg with a well aimed blow from Trollfist. The Troll cried even louder and tried to get out of the chair. Too late it discovered its leg would not sustain its weight, and forward it crashed to the floor, narrowly missing the fire. Luinár struck again, and the Troll perished where it lay.

"This is strange!" came Bauglir's voice. He picked up what appeared to be a pair of knitting needles and an indescribable snarl of yarn. "The Troll was female. I do not much fancy the yarn it was knitting with, though; it appears to be made of human hair!"

Luinár grimaced at the thought. Then she and the others quickly surveyed the room. Aside from a large cracked mirror on one wall, there was little else of interest. But there was still the other door to examine, sturdy and secured with a lock. In no time Bradlegar had the lock picked. Carefully they swung open the door.

The room beyond was filled with all manner of things, but excitement quickly turned to disappointment when they realized the Trolls had no eye for value. Two chests overflowing with coins were nearly worthless, for they were but tin and copper and not worth their weight to carry. Likewise a collection of swords and bows proved to be ordinary. Of the entire cache only one long halbred showed any promise, showing some traces of magic, and a bow with an unusual attachment near the grip.

"It is made from silver," said Bauglir, polishing the device on the bow, "but I cannot determine its purpose."

"Allow me," said Dennenor. He took the bow and examined it, then held it out at arm's length. "This I have seen before," he said at last. "It is a device to assist with the aiming of the bow. A nice gift for our little archer friend."

"Or perhaps Mîriel," said Bradlegar. "My aim is true. But I've seen Mîriel use a bow once or twice, and she would benefit from the help this would give her."

One final item from the trove, a suit of armour made from soft leather, was claimed by Rhôn.

They departed the room where the dead Troll lay and walked back to the closest tunnel. Here they turned left and followed it for a distance. It climbed upward as a ramp, and after a hundred feet or so emptied into a large, bare room. Four unadorned stone walls looked on to an empty floor. In the centre of the far wall a large arched doorway stood outlined in brick, but the space within was stuccoed over, as was the rest of the wall.

"Interesting," said Dennenor, "I wonder if the Trolls are hiding something up here."

"This does not appear to be typical Troll architecture," said Luinár, "They usually do not have empty rooms. Usually they are more like the one where we just killed the Troll."

"Nevertheless, we should proceed with caution," said Dennenor. "Does anyone have a spell to detect traps?"

"I do," they heard Bauglir say. "Please wait while I cast it." They did, and after a couple of minutes the mage announced he had found nothing. Then Luinár ran quickly to the Trolls' living-room and returned with a lit torch. They approached the door and examined it closely.

"Strange," said Luinár. "This does not even look like a proper door frame at all--it seems to be simply a pattern of bricks set into the wall to mimic one. After all, most door frames are not brick, but rather wood or stone."

"I bid you all wait," came Araquenval's voice. "I am casting a delving spell to determine what manner of door this is." And he concentrated a minute. "A magic door this, and not made by Trolls, for it is too clever for them. Elves, certainly, but not Noldor. At the top of the frame are two shallow depressions where hands are placed. I suspect they open the door."

"Shall we go in?" asked Luinár.

"I see no reason not to," said Dennenor.

So Araquenval stretched up his hands and placed them on the lintel, then sprang back in surprise. For the space inside the frame had burst forth in blue light, briefly lighting up the entire room before fading out again. And then there was no wall inside the frame, but an opening. Quickly, before anyone else could, Rhôn entered the space beyond and examined it thoroughly.

"Hmmm," he said. "Trolls use this, perhaps every turning of the moon. Why, Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn does not know."

"Perhaps this is where they keep their good treasure," mused Dennenor.

"Then let us investigate," said Araquenval, "but carefully, for there may be traps?"

"Do Elves build traps?" asked Bauglir. "Is that not evil?"

"I did not say the Elves built traps," said Araquenval. "But Trolls have been down here, and they could well have added to the construction."

Luinár went on ahead, carrying the torch. The walls of the corridor appeared to be made from bricks, but of differing manufacture. Near the base they were fired bricks, smooth and expertly laid, while higher up they were cruder, cut from stone. Three hundred feet from the door the corridor turned sharply right and began sloping upward again. Three hundred feet later it turned right again and continued its upward path.

"Interesting," said Dennenor as they followed this third leg. "It would almost appear we are on a battlement of some sort, as if this was once a tower that was filled in and covered over."

"But what manner of disaster could befall such a place, so to bury a tower?" asked Luinár.

"I cannot say."

Again the corridor trail turned right, and they followed it to a landing at the head of a long stairway. By now they had come full circle, but because the trail had led upward they surmised they had passed over the entrance door. They peered down the staircase, but it curved away and they could not see its end.

"Shall we follow the stairs down?" asked Bauglir.

"Trolls go down. We go down," said Rhôn.

So they descended the stairs. Here the tunnel was rougher than the corridor they had been in up to now, the walls alternately narrowing in on them and widening out again. Down and to the right the stairs went, Dennenor counting them off to himself as they went deeper. He got as far as a hundred and thirty before he was interrupted.

"Everybody stop, stop, stop!" came Bradlegar's urgent whispers. "Luinár, do you see something like a red glow down there?

"No," she replied, "but the torch may be masking it. Dennenor, take it, please."

Dennenor did has he was bidden, taking the offered torch and turning around to shield its light from Luinár. "I can see the glow now," said Luinár. "Let's continue."

"Not without light!" said Bradlegar. "Dennenor, I'll take the torch."

The Elf held the torch low, and it was picked up by an unseen hand and floated of its own accord down the stairwell. "Bradlegar, wait!" called Luinár after him. "I do not need the torch."

"Oh," came the Hobbit's voice. "Dennenor, you can have it back." And it floated over to him and he picked it up.

Luinár and Bradlegar carefully stole down the last portion of the stairway. Their progress was slow, for they had to feel their way in the diminishing light, and the steps were slick and uneven. But their patience was soon rewarded, for into view came an archway. From beyond came an eerie red glow. They went only as far as was needed in order to see the chamber, then stopped to peer in.

How big the chamber was they could not tell, for the red light seemed to be playing tricks with their eyes. It came from what appeared to be something resting on a stone pedestal in the centre of the room. From the base of the pedestal came glints of light, apparently from objects that were reflecting the light above. Four standing stones sat a few feet out on the floor. Arched doorways led off in various directions from the chamber.

Bradlegar went to get the others. Soon they all were standing in a cluster on the staircase perhaps twenty feet from the room. "I will use the olorkorna to see what lies beyond," said Araquenval.

After a minutes, Dennenor asked, "What did you see in the vision?"

Araquenval's voice came from among them. "I went into the chamber and there I saw a wondrous gem atop the pedestal: a ruby the size of my fist and worth perhaps more than all the other jewels we have gathered so far. I took it from the pedestal and suddenly the light ceased. I continued to hold the gem in my hands, examining it by torchlight, until the spell ran out."

Dennenor perked up at the mention of a gem. "I recall a time not long ago," he said, "when a group of adventurers came to Imladris bearing a fine gem. But they did not want it, and nor did any other, for it held power beyond imagination. Eventually it was taken to the lands across the sea."

"Well, before we take it I will use a spell to see if the gem is evil," said Araquenval.

"It has been in the presence of Trolls for a long time," said Bauglir. "That may cause your spell to give a false reading."

"Araquenval's use of the olorkorna has indicated he could at least hold on to the gem for a minute or so," said Dennenor. "Rather than expend energy on magic to determine if it is evil, we should enter the chamber and take it."

Araquenval agreed with Dennenor. Softly they and the others made their way into the room, looking about in the red light. It emanated from the centre of the room, but whether it came from the pedestal or the gem upon it or they could not say. Scattered about its base were many things that shone and reflected the light. A silver box caught Bradlegar's attention. Entering the circle outlined by the standing stones, he picked it up and examined it. Runes had been carved into the lid, but he could not decipher them. He called to Araquenval and Dennenor for assistance.

"Hold the box in front of you, so I can pick it up," said Araquenval as he and Dennenor arrived. The small silver box floated up a little, paused, then floated higher as Araquenval, himself invisible, picked it up. Then he heard heard Bradlegar gasp and cry out.

"Behind you!" he exclaimed. Then the Hobbit suddenly appeared in front of them as he pulled up his bow and loosed an arrow. Dennenor felt two strong hands grasp his shoulders, then claws dug in and he was hoisted high into the air. Looking down, he saw the four standing stones had unwound themselves into large cave Trolls. Even now one of them was holding him aloft in its long, rubbery arms. It lowered his legs into its mouth. A searing pain tore through his shins, and the Elf jabbed at the troll with his sword to prevent another bite. Luinár dashed to his aid, striking the Troll with her sword.

With surprising swiftness another Troll darted over to where Rhôn was standing. It lashed out with its hand. The claws raked across Rhôn's armour. He held up Trollfist, parried the Troll's next assault, then struck back. The Troll staggered back. Again Rhôn lashed out with the mace, and this time the Troll collapsed.

Back at the pedestal, another Troll brought his hand down on Bradlegar. The Hobbit squirmed out between the fingers and dashed off toward the entrance. The third Troll, seeing the precious silver box floating in the air, reached out to grab it. The big hand connected with Araquenval holding the box, breaking the mage's invisibility spell. The Troll pulled back in surprise and Araquenval bolted after Bradlegar. Bauglir swiftly cast a spell. A stone wall suddenly materialized behind them, anchored to the pedestal. Appearing as it did out of thin air, it distracted the two Trolls that were just about to run after them. One turned around to aid its mate under attack from Luinár, while the other, quite confused, lumbered around in a small circle.

Bradlegar reached the stairs. Running up a few steps, bow in hand he turned to examine the scene. To his shock he saw Dennenor held aloft, blood seeping down his leg as he held back the Troll's head with his sword. Bradlegar fired, sending an arrow into the Troll. Dennenor felt the pressure on his sword relax, and he slashed sideways, breaking one of the arms holding him. The Troll cried out and dropped its prey. Fifteen feet fell the Elf to the stone floor, but he rolled out the impact and come up on his feet in front of the Troll that had nearly captured Araquenval. It reached out to grab him, but he deflected its claws with his sword. Mindful of the other Troll behind him, now flailing about with its one good arm, Dennenor circled around, then struck his new opponent. It reeled back. An arrow flew in, striking the Troll, and Araquenval launched a lightning bolt. The Troll slipped and fell to the ground, and there Dennenor killed it.

A brilliant bolt of fire from Bauglir blasted the Troll with the broken arm, then Luinár struck and killed it. The one remaining Troll fought on, taking blows from Luinár, a fire bolt from Bauglir, and even a jab from Araquenval, before finally succumbing to Luinár's sword.

Once they had bandaged their wounds, they turned their attention to the incredible ruby the Trolls had been guarding. Although he desired it, even covetous Bauglir seemed apprehensive about removing it from its place. So Araquenval took the olorkorna and again called forth the intuition spell bound within it.

"I gained little more information from this use than the last," he said at length. "I grasped the gem from the pedestal and the room went dark. Very powerful was the gem; I could feel its power coursing through my arm. But I was able to make good my escape, as nothing untoward seemed to come of my taking the jewel."

"Then we shall assume it is safe to take," said Bauglir, "along with the one hundred and sixty pieces of silver I have been able to collect so far."

Taking his horn, Araquenval deftly slipped it under the gem and moments later had it within the horn. They looked at it surprise, for although the gem had been disturbed its light had not extinguished. Bradlegar took the silver box, and Dennenor snatched a pair of fine boots sitting at the base of the pedestal, then with the others they headed out of the room and up the stairs.

They made the trip back to the magic door more slowly than they would have liked, for Dennenor was limping badly from the cuts he had taken. Once there, where they had expected an exit they found nothing but a flat and featureless grey wall. Unperturbed, Bauglir cast a spell.

"I have created a portal," he explained, pointing to an area where the wall was now shimmering. He walked through. The others followed and found themselves in the bare stone room. From here it was a brief walk back to the entrance. Here Araquenval called Burzot back to his helmet home, and they left the Troll-hold.

Watching them stagger up the slope, leaving telltale red drops behind, Mîriel greeted them with a bemused smile. "I leave you alone for an hour and you get into a fight. Well, sit down; let's see how badly you're hurt." Dennenor did as she asked, and after a quick examination she called for a fire. "I will need to boil some water," she said. "Dennenor requires arpsusar for his wounds."

Mîriel treated Dennenor's cuts and cast a regeneration spell to heal him from the battering he had taken, while Luinár helped Bradlegar's healing with a couple of spells of her own. While they were thus engaged, the others put the assorted treasure together in a pile.

Her healing tasks completed, at Araquenval's request Mîriel cast a spell to perceive traces of evil on the loot. "I do not like the gem," she said almost immediately. "Either it is evil itself, or has been extensively used by one who was."

"Could you do a curse tales on it?" asked Araquenval.

"I cannot, for the spell is currently beyond my skill. But I can detect a curse." She paused, then shook her head. "Strange. The gem itself does not appear to be cursed, but my spell tells me if I picked it up or used it, I could be subject to a curse."

"Despite that, we should take it." said Luinár. "If it is evil, it is better it be in the hands of those who will not use it."

No evil was found on the other items, so they set to discussing who could best use them. The fine craftsmanship on the small silver box showed its Dwarven origin, and after a brief examination Bauglir discerned its ingenious catch and flipped it open. A spark flew as he struck the tinder inside. "A wonderful device," he said. "With this, one should be able to start a fire almost any time in less than a minute." They gave it to Rhôn.

The boots Dennenor had taken from the gem-room proved to have strong magic in them: wearing them, one would be almost silent walking though the woods. They fit the Elf well, so they decided he could keep them. Bradlegar presented the bow-site to Mîriel, and she accepted it with a smile.

"I never get treasure," said Bauglir when they finished distributing the booty. "The next good piece of treasure is mine."

"If it suits you, we will let you have it," said Mîriel.

They set out again, not wanting to spend the night in the Troll infested hills. Several hours of daylight remained, and they spent them quickly riding the canyon trail south and east. The way was easy. Save for the odd tower here and there, many broken down by Orcs, they saw no signs of habitation. Then, as suddenly as they had started, the hills ended, and they found themselves on a grassy and gently rolling plain.

"Yet four hours are left to us in the day," said Araquenval. "Shall we make haste across this plain?"

"Yes," agreed Mîriel, and the others with her. They urged their horses to a trot. The land fairly flew beneath them, but all too soon their progress was blocked by a stream that flowed swiftly across their path.

"Can we cross this one?" asked Mîriel.

Rhôn rode his horse just beyond the edge of the stream and plumbed its depths with a lance. "Too deep," he reported.

"Imladris lies east of here," said Dennenor. "We could follow the stream east until we find a ford."

"A good idea," said Mîriel. "That course would take us upstream, where I would expect the stream to narrow.

"Unless you can make the horses fly again, we should start riding," said Luinár.

"Alas," said Araquenval, "I expended too much fighting the Trolls, and am too tired to cast more spells until after I rest."

Perhaps it was Araquenval's mention of spells that caused Mîriel to think of doing one of her own. "I can take some of the mystery out of this," she announced. "I can cast a spell that will let me see the possible outcome of an action up to nine days in the future. Would you be willing to wait while I do this?"

"Just as long as the spell does not take nine days to cast," said Bradlegar.

Mîriel laughed. "No problem there," she reassured the Hobbit. "It should take less than five minutes." Still sitting on her horse, she concentrated a while. The others waited, some nervously lest Mîriel be lost to them for a long time. Their fears were unfounded. Mîriel was in the spell less than three minutes.

"The stream rises in a swamp an hour's ride from here," she told them. "From there we can go south again, past some lonely dreary hills. Then will spend a day passing a dark tangled forest to the west we before meeting a line of hills across another river. The hills were too great for my spell to penetrate."

"Wildman like that," said Rhôn. "Even two days travel better to see than none."

"Then we should ride," said Luinár.

As Mîriel's spell had predicted, in an hour they reached the wetlands at the head of the stream. They were shallow and easy to cross. Soon they were beyond the marsh and again cantering south across grasslands. Far to the west a smudge on the horizon could be seen: it was the forest Mîriel had passed by in her spell.

At last the day began to wane. The sun crept to the horizon and they found a stand of trees encompassing an area large enough to pitch their tents. As soon as they were up Araquenval and Bauglir went inside to rest. They kept their usual watches: Mîriel and Dennenor, Dennenor and Araquenval, and lastly Araquenval and Bradlegar, but nothing disturbed them in the night.

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