The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 78.1

A Storm Descends

Highday, 19th of Wedmath, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Enedwaith

The Falls of Thror's Coomb

The thunder continued all night and into the morning, but the rain never came. Instead, a low and oppressive cloud-cover descended on us, such that the light was dimmed considerably. Lightnings flickered constantly off to the south-east, and I was always looking over my shoulder to see if the storm was advancing on us. But the winds had died down, which was something of a relief because the constant howling made me edgy, but it also meant we were left with a dark grey fume overhead that looked like it would be going nowhere anytime soon.

Once morning had dawned (if you could call it that, things being as dingy and overcast as they were), we breakfasted and discussed our plans for the day. It felt very different without Lagodir present and I sensed the others were missing Ancthas as well (I myself had been alongside him only twice, both times all too briefly). The mood among our Company was as gloomy as the weather.

"Gaelira," I said in-between bites of waybread, "Yesterday I overheard you and Inar mention we might be seeking something up in those mountains to the north beyond the river. Is that true?"

"Yes," the she-Elf replied. "I believe the great Dwarf-library of Zudrugund lies that way. It is not so massive a hoard as Katub-zahar which we visited in Moria, but it is probably the second largest collection of Dwarf-lore anywhere in the world. Thror's people brought all they could salvage from the wreck of Smaug and settled here, for a time, before they moved on to found a colony in the Ered Luin. This land in which we now find ourselves still bears his name: Thror's Coomb."

"And what is it you hope to find there?" asked Drodie, who was becoming quite interested in the conversation.

"Inar spoke of the Emissary's use of the gondath to summon a Gaunt-lord named Gortheron. As you all know by now, Undead creatures such as the barrow-wights are not truly the Dead returned but rather the corpses of the departed re-animated by the infusion of fell-spirits through dark rites. The Gaunt-lords have not been seen in the world for many long years, for the Elves hunted and exterminated those abominations wherever they were found, but now the Emissary has re-awakened this ancient threat. The necromantic rituals used for creation of the Gaunt-lords require unique vessels like the gondath to channel the essences of multiple fell-spirits into a single host. If the Emissary has used several of them to create Gortheron then he must be a Gaunt-lord of truly terrible power. Furthermore, it would take someone highly skilled in the arts of the Enemy to create such a monster -- which means defeating Gorothul, the Emissary, will be no easy feat. Yet we must attempt it for Luean's sake."

"I like not this quest for revenge," said Minasse suddenly, "Too often in the past have the Eldar suffered from its pursuit. Still, I would learn more of the threat ere I pass judgment on this errand as a whole. You believe, then, that marching haplessly on Dol Guldur itself to be our wisest course?"

"I am not yet certain," Gaelira answered. "Gorothul is rumoured to be ensconced there, at least that is what Inar believes at this moment. But beyond avenging Luean's murder there is the possibility that our quest may enable the Seekers to defeat Gortheron as well, and that is why we should search for the library of Zudrugund. The Dwarves were in possession of a number of the gondath, as you have already heard, which they obtained from the Noldor of Eregion during the Second Age. While they were held in the treasuries of Durin, it was said the Dwarves discovered through experimentation ways to control or direct the energies of the gondath. If we can uncover these long-lost secrets, then perhaps we could find a way to neutralize or destroy the stones' power, thereby weakening or eliminating Gortheron entirely. And so, to answer your question, Minasse, I know not our course as yet -- much will depend on what we find within Zudrugund, assuming there is anything left to find."

"Once again have the relics of my people returned to trouble the world," Minasse sighed. "Perhaps I am fated to labour in righting the wrongs of my forebears."

"Just how large is this library?" I asked Gaelira. "Are we going to be spending a month in there? You yourself said there may not even be anything to find. Will Orcs have plundered it or what?"

"I do not think that Orcs will have found their way to Zudrugund," said Gaelira. "It was not so the only other time I myself had been there. For one thing, the path which leads to it is high in the mountains and difficult to reach. Also, there is nothing within which would interest Orcs -- just musty tomes and mouldering old scrolls. There was a keeper present when last I visited: Nar, a Dwarf who was, by the reckoning of his own kind, very ancient even then. He must have long since passed from this world." Drodie shifted his weight, but did not speak.

"Well, if we are going to toil up the snowy slopes of the mountains then we had best get moving," said Nephyn as she stood. "There has been no rain as yet, but it looks as though it could start pouring at any moment, and that would only mean snowfall the higher we climb."

Minutes later we were travelling north once again. We took an easterly bent to steer well aside of the small Dunlending village we had seen the night before and used the rocky landscape to screen ourselves from view. The dun lighting under that heavy sky probably helped hide us from prying eyes, for it grew steadily dimmer as the day wore on as if the impending storm was gathering all its strength before it unleashed its full fury on the poor, mortal weaklings which crawled upon the earth below. On the other hand, the gradually lowering sky also seemed to be sucking up every last sound beneath it, or else nature had suddenly fallen dumb. No doubt the wildlife had gone into hiding at the storm's approach, and so a near-total silence lay over us. Every little rustle of grass or clink of stone from our passing seemed ten times louder than it should have been, and each noise made my heart patter just a bit as we continued our trek. I began to feel as though the sky was a living thing hunting for us with a malevolent will, and the sensation became so oppressive that I thought several times of begging my companions to find shelter somewhere in which to wait out whatever massive tempest was brewing overhead.

I was just about to yield to that temptation when I was distracted by a steady rushing sound: a waterfall. Looking up, I saw that we had made very good progress (or perhaps the land looked less vast than it was due to the stony terrain): we had drawn quite near the mountains and their snow-capped peaks, but before we could explore them we would have to find some way to cross the swift-moving river which lay at their knees. They ran east-to-west, a longish range thrust out from the main line of the Misty Mountains which marched north-south to our right, and while they were not at all as lofty as those to the east, they looked tall and threatening enough with their heads hidden in the ever-darkening clouds. I gulped as I lowered my eyes and there I saw the waterfall: it looked rather small at that distance, but I knew closer up it would be very large indeed.

"If those falls ever had a name," Gaelira was saying, "It has been lost to the mists of time. However, I do remember that the path into the mountains once lay somewhere further up that river. Let us continue to search north-eastwards."

She led us on for another couple of hours. The land began rising steadily as we drew nearer the mountains and we passed the falls. Once they were behind us, we started bending our course less northward and more eastward until we were marching along with the river rushing endlessly just to our left. The further east we went the deeper the river ran until it could only be seen at the bottom of a sizable gorge. We were looking for any sign of a ford or other means of crossing the river to begin our journey into the mountains, but there was no sign of one. The process was made all the more difficult by the presence of large rocks and house-sized boulders which lined the river-bed, obscuring our view forward. We frequently had to pass these to the south while being very careful to not turn our feet on any stones or divets in the earth (of which there were many in that place) because the light, despite it being only three o'clock in the afternoon, was nearly gone thanks to the gathering storm. We had just come up to one particularly large clump of boulders when a tremendous flash of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a stone-splitting peal of thunder.

"Look!" Nephyn shouted, barely audible above the din, "There is just enough space under those stones to serve as shelter from the storm. We should take refuge while we still have the chance!"

We all shuffled forward eagerly, happy to put anything at all between ourselves and the gale which was bearing down on us. The "cave" was little more than a shallow scoop in the rocks facing west formed by two sizable, slab-like stones leaning up against each other like an upside-down V. But it was something and, as luck would have it, the wind had turned and was blowing up from the south-west, which put the worst at our backs. I slung off my pack and huddled against the cold stone while the others situated themselves. Nephyn ensured the Sword of Ringdor was secure in its scabbard at her belt (her bow, you may remember, had been irreparably damaged back in Dunland), then she pulled out her maps and tried to make herself as small as possible while studying so as to stay out of everyone else's way. Drodie leaned his shield up against the wall and immediately started hacking small branches off nearby trees for firewood before the rain came. Minasse sat cross-legged near the "entrance" to our little shelter and stared out into the west while Gaelira remained standing outside.

"You should come in, Gaelira," I called good-naturedly to her. "It's a bit cramped, but I daresay there's enough room for you to fit in here if we can all scrunch in a little tighter."

"My thanks, but I will not be joining you just yet," she said. "I am very anxious: I do not recall the crossing of the river to have been this far east, though perhaps I am out of my reckoning in this abysmal clime. I wish to scout ahead while the light lasts (such as it is). A little wind and rain holds no fear for me, and I shall not be gone long. Stay here and stay quiet!"

"Certainly," I replied, knowing that arguing with her was pointless. "May we at least get a fire going in the meantime? Drodie has already started the preparations."

"You may make a fire," she replied, "I do not suppose we need worry about giving away our position to anyone in the midst of the downpour that is coming."

"Well, just you mind yourself," I said, sounding like a scolding parent talking to a hobbit-lass who didn't yet know how to behave around boys at the Spring-dance. "You are wounded, after all," I added with a nod to her arm which still hung in its sling. I felt like a fool the instant the words left my mouth -- no doubt the Elf was well aware of this fact.

"I will be careful," she said, but she smiled and her voice was kindly, and in a moment she passed out of our sight. About two minutes later there was another terrific lightning strike and thunder-roll just as Drodie's little fire sprang to life. For one brief instant I thought that perhaps we should have obscured the light a bit by placing the Dwarf's shield across the entrance of our refuge. I also remembered the Dunlending village we had seen lay in the same direction our "cave" faced, and I got just the tiniest bit nervous. But then, I thought to myself, That village must be four or five miles west of this spot at the very least. Besides, who in their right mind would be out and about in weather like this?

Time passed slowly. It was close to six in the evening and still the rain would not come. The thunder and lightning continued with greater and greater frequency as if the heavens themselves were waging war, to the point I started to wonder whether we might not all get blown away once the tempest was finally unleashed. I tried to go to sleep early by using my pack as a pillow, but it was hopeless amid all the racket. To make matters worse, the wind suddenly picked up considerably and, while we ourselves were not in its path thanks to our makeshift shelter, the nooks and crags of the rocks which formed our little haven made an excellent playground for the gusts of the gale. This caused an unending series of howls and (when the wind was aimed just right) some of the most awful shrieks you can imagine which made sleep impossible. The others seemed equally ill-at-ease and I, unable to do much else, simply joined them by the fire and watched as the fury of nature threatened to engulf us.

Maybe it was all the walking we had done that day or perhaps it was the warmth of the fire, but amazingly I started to doze. I remember vague half-dreams which consisted of me watching a rain-storm from our large front-porch back on the farm in the Southfarthing. Then the scene shifted, and I thought I could hear the patter of raindrops on the glass panes of the Prancing Pony Inn while I sat quite comfortably by the parlour fireplace inside. I even fancied I could smell the delicious scent of baking apple-tart wafting down the corridors from Butterbur's kitchen...

"TO ARMS!"

Drodie's battle-cry jolted me back to my senses like the thunder-claps which continued to resound above us. I looked around in alarm: there was still no rain and, even though the Sun had not quite set, it was as dark as night. Despite this, I could see several hunched shapes moving toward us in the gloom! The others had already gathered their weapons and moved outside; I whipped out my dagger and joined them. I squinted to try and see what manner of creatures were advancing on our position. Was it Orcs? Wargs? Something worse?

Then a shout came from our attackers and I had no doubt: they were Dunlendings! Another lightning-flash confirmed this as I saw a line of the brutes come charging right at us. I instinctively shrank behind Nephyn who, absent her bow, was wielding the Sword of Ringdor with two hands. Despite the danger, my thought suddenly turned to Gaelira: where was she? But I could see no sign of her, and our enemy was nearly upon us!

The initial assault was quite a shock: the Dunlendings drove straight at our position. Most were armed with spears, but a few had axes as well. Drodie stood at the forefront and occupied a few, but we were outnumbered almost two-to-one. I saw a Man charge Minasse with his spear pointed right at his heart -- the Elf was unarmed and would be trapped with his back up against our camp! I rushed over to help, but then in a single movement Minasse deftly side-stepped his attacker, seized the spear, and shoved him face-first into the stone! There was a sickening crack as the Dunlending's head split open and he fell, dead. Then Minasse swept up the fallen Man's spear and quickly engaged two more enemies. Nephyn had another two to herself while Drodie was dealing with three more. I was trying to decide who needed my help most when another flash of lightning illuminated the area. There, just beyond the reach of the battle but still all too near was a terrifying masked figure astride a black horse.

"It's Izarrair!" I shouted, but my voice was lost in the thunderous tumult that followed the lightning.

Just then I heard one of the Dunlendings cry out in pain: Drodie's axe had taken one of his arms off. Then there was a harsh clang, as the Dwarf took a nasty shot to the helm from the spear-shaft of another of his attackers. I bolted over to his aid while out of the corner of my eye I saw Minasse and Nephyn each dispatch one of their assailants. I quickly stabbed one of the Dunlendings on Drodie in the back, ending him. There were only three opponents left...

But then I saw Izarrair advancing and his mask looked like the face of some twisted mind's nightmare come to life. His spear and shield were at the ready as he bore straight down on Nephyn. My cries of alarm went unheard in the confusion of battle. Izarrair grabbed the Dunlending attacking Nephyn from behind and shoved him toward Minasse. Now occupied with two enemies, the Elf withdrew as he defended himself and Nephyn was left alone. I could just make out Minasse shouting at me to run and hide myself, but I did not listen -- I ran to help my friend.

The two faced off silently for the briefest of moments. Then Nephyn attacked with her sword, but Izarrair expertly deflected the onslaught before smashing her across the face with his shield. She spun around twice, completely stunned, then fell to the ground. Izarrair raised his spear high to deliver the killing blow.

But I reached him just at that instant. I stabbed upwards into his side, through the studded leather armour and into the lower part of the abdomen. Izarrair cried out and stumbled, but his spear-thrust found its mark anyway. Nephyn screamed in agony and my heart nearly shattered at the sound. But before I even had a chance to see what happened, Izarrair whirled toward me and back-handed me across the head.

I must have been knocked unconscious because the next thing I knew I was floating off the ground. I was being carried! A gauntleted fist was clamped firmly over my mouth and a muscular arm had me crushed against my captor's side while the metal studs of the armour were digging mercilessly into my flesh. With a cold shock I realized I was Izarrair's prisoner! I struggled to get free, but it was quite useless.

"Unhand him, slave of Mordor!" I heard Minasse shouting. There before me were the Elf and the Dwarf confronting Izarrair. The Dunlendings had all been slain or driven off, but no matter where I looked I saw no sign of Nephyn.

"And give back that which my Master so greatly desires?" sneered Izarrair. "I think not. I would slay you both where you stand, but I am at a slight disadvantage so long as I keep this rat in its trap." At that he gave me a cruel squeeze that drove the air painfully from my lungs.

"And just how were you planning to escape?" Drodie mocked him. "Unless you are equal parts dumb and ugly you might have noticed that you're backed up against the gorge." I suddenly became aware that this was true: Somehow Minasse and Drodie had managed to corner Izarrair with his back to the river. There was a long drop of some twenty or thirty feet  down a sheer cliff to the water below at that point, and I became sick as I realized I was only a few feet from plunging to my death. The roar of the waterfall seemed to suddenly grow louder, as if it was the living breath of a great dragon come to devour us all.

"Ha!" Izarrair replied, "I have no need of escape. I will fight you both with one arm, if I must, to keep my prize. You have already lost: the Halfling is mine and the Elf-witch has abandoned you. Do not think that just because I have one hand pre-occupied that I will not end you both, just as I did that stupid girl earlier."

I felt a white-hot wrath erupt inside me. With a terrific squirm I managed to wrench my head free of Izarrair's grip, then I bit down with all my strength onto the hand in the one spot where there was no padding. I tasted his blood in my mouth as he screamed in pain.

"The Pits take you, you little vermin!!" he shrieked. Then in his fury, he flung me over the edge of the cliff. I cleared the rock-face on my way down, weirdly felt as if I was suspended in mid-air as I plummeted, then received a freezing shock as my body slammed into the ice-cold water. The heavy current carried me, tumbling and spinning under the waves, for what felt like an eternity. Somehow, my face popped above the water and I had the briefest of instants to draw breath, but then the current swept me under again. My limbs were numb from the cold and trying to swim was of no use anyway. Even beneath the water I could hear the roar of the falls coming swiftly closer. I knew I was dying, but somehow I felt at peace.

So, this is the end, I remember thinking. I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you, Neph -- maybe the others can avenge your passing. As for myself, I'd just as soon not continue now that you're gone, the truest friend I ever had. What a time we spent together... I can only hope it really did make a difference.

Then I reached the falls. I fell forward in a torrent of roaring foam as my lungs filled with water. My body crashed into the river below, and I remembered nothing more.