Trewsday, 28th of Rethe, Year 1418 Shire-reckoning
The Orc-city of Urugarth, Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
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| A Warg-rider of Urugarth |
"Even in face of the direst peril does our Halfling find time for the simple pleasures of life," said Lagodir with a broad grin. "Or, mayhap, his thoughts reside only on food, as is his wont?"
"What can you possibly hope to catch in there?" Nephyn asked as she rolled up and stowed her blankets.
"Two golden mullet and several perch so far, as it happens," I answered. "It turns out fish somehow managed to spawn in this secluded hole, but no one seems to know when or how."
"I don't suppose you'd consider frying some of those up for our breakfast?" asked Drodie with a hungry look in his eye.
"Of course not!" I said. "I was only looking for something to pass the time. I expected we would be setting out in short order, so I've already given my catch to one of the cooks, who had passed through here earlier." The Dwarf wasn't the only one who looked disappointed at this, which I took as a shining compliment!
"You are right, Padryc," said Gaelira as she strode up to greet the rest of us. "We have delayed here too long already, and finally there is as clear a path before us as we could hope to have in this forsaken land. We are within striking distance of our objective, where few others could have, or would have, dared to tread. Now, at last, let us embark on this most dangerous and desperate portion of our quest. Our time is now, friends -- For honour, for glory, and for the Free Peoples of Eriador!"
"Good morning!"
The cheers and exultations which had welled on our collective lips at Gaelira's final speech suddenly fizzled in the wake of this bizarre interjection which came from behind us. We five turned and saw standing there a Man with a clean-shaven face that held a perplexed look. He was clad in badly stained and patched leathern armour which had clearly seen much travel. A simple wooden round-shield was slung at his back and he carried a long spear in his strong, gloved hand. Annoyed as I was at the interruption, there was something very nearly comical about the young fellow's demeanor such that my irritation evaporated before I realized what had happened.
"Did I come at a bad time?" asked the stranger. He sounded genuinely concerned that he might have inconvenienced us as we awkwardly cast glances among ourselves.
"Erm, no. That is -- no," I said haltingly. "Can we help you? I don't seem to recall meeting you before in Gath Forthnir. Are you one of the Rangers?"
"No, I am not of the Dunedain," came his reply, "Though I have helped them on many occasions. I understand you are making to enter Carn Dum on this day?" I blinked in surprise.
"Well have you heard," said Gaelira in response. "But how --?"
"'Tis no conspiracy which has betrayed your intentions this time, my friends," came the voice of Maerchiniath. A moment later the Ranger-captain himself emerged from a nearby tunnel, smiling brightly -- more so, I must say, than I had ever seen him smile since we first arrived at his melancholy headquarters. We all waited expectantly for his explanation.
"You have done much to aid me, my people, and all those who still resist the tyranny of Angmar," he went on. "In return, I have had precious little to offer you, save our counsels, our cooks, and our chemists. All are valuable, to be sure, but our debt to you is great for you have given us that which we had nearly lost, and that is hope. For this gift, I would grant you every Ranger within Gath Forthnir to serve under your command as you stormed Carn Dum if I thought it would avail us. Alas, victory here cannot be hoped for through strength of arms -- this I now see. Furthermore, I know the hope of your success is in secrecy, and so an army of Dunedain at your back would serve only to betray your position and your purpose. But here, at last, is my chance to repay you, even in limited measure, for all you have given us." Here, he gestured to the young Man. "This is Cutter."
Most of us tried to muffle our snickers and chortles, but some had more success at this than others. Drodie laughed openly.
"Cutter?!" echoed the Dwarf, not even bothering to appear civil. "That is not a name I have ever heard given to a Man, but perhaps customs are different in whatever land you call home." I worried the newcomer would be offended by our mirth, but he merely grinned and waved his hand.
"It is only a nickname, of course," he said, still smiling. "My true name is Laddalld, but that doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."
"Still, I find it not unfitting," said Lagodir as he eyed the youth. "But is this the payment of which you spake, Maerchiniath? I am not certain I understand you."
"Cutter is an excellent warrior who has seen many months of service here in the regions around Gath Forthnir," Maerchiniath answered. "His skill with the spear and shield is exemplary and he has proven his faith to me many times over, even though he has not yet been here a year. I had thought before now to send him with you, but he was away on other business and has only just returned. Where an army will not serve, Cutter will strengthen your arm considerably, of this I am certain. Mark my words: if you encounter any servants of the Enemy with him alongside, then you will know whence came his sobriquet, and the more grateful shall you be for it!"
To make a long story short, we ended up accepting Maerchiniath's youthful sellsword, for the Ranger's words seemed eager and earnest. However, I could easily tell most of the Outriders were wary of this sudden change in personnel, to say the least. The treachery of Wenhair had made us all very reluctant to trust anyone outside of our little group, especially Lagodir, although that is to be expected. The Gondorian would rarely speak to Laddalld, but would often watch him when the other was not looking. Nephyn was her usual distrustful self, but not in any mean-spirited way (I've come to understand it as part of her nature, but she is also the truest of friends once you've won her confidence). Gaelira, I think, had her reservations about accepting an outsider into our circle, but she also saw the wisdom of Maerchiniath's words, and ultimately deferred to his judgment. Drodie didn't seem to care, proudly announcing any underhanded acts would be met with his undying vengeance as well as the vengeance of his brothers, uncles, nephews, and cousins to the twelfth degree, which I think unnerved Laddalld a bit. For myself, I have to admit I was a tad distrustful -- what with everything we've been through -- but I couldn't help remembering that I had felt the same way about Lagodir once, too.
There wasn't much more delay before we finally set out. Maerchiniath bade us good fortune and commanded Laddalld that he follow our lead while also agreeing to keep my journal until we return from our quest (assuming we do). I am writing now on individual leaves of parchment I brought with me for this leg of the journey, so I do apologize if the penmanship is of a lesser quality than that to which you have become accustomed, Dear Reader.
We left Gath Forthnir with little fanfare, although there were several Rangers and other folk gathered near the front entrance to see us off. The congregation was a silent one, but now and then my ears would catch a murmur of thanks or good wishes from one of the on-lookers. The overall impression one got from the proceedings was not encouraging; in fact, it was downright depressing.
"Rather a subdued lot, aren't they?" I whispered to Nephyn as we headed for the entrance to the caves. "I had hoped they might manage a few hip-hip-hoorays, or something. Still, I suppose it wouldn't do to make a big racket so near the front-door: one never knows what might be prowling around outside in a place like Angmar."
"Yes. Yes, I'm sure it must be that," Nephyn whispered back.
"Really?" asked Lagodir as he looked back at them over his shoulder. "I thought it was because they all believe we are marching heedlessly to our certain deaths."
"Lagodir has the right of it," called Laddalld from the rear of our procession. Nephyn rolled her eyes, sighed, and looked straight ahead.
"Men," I heard her mutter under her breath.
We emerged from the caverns to another dark and windy day in the Land of Angmar. The blustery wind was in the east, and it pelted us with grit, sand, and small stones as we descended the slope down from Gath Forthnir. Once we had put a little distance between ourselves and the path, we hunkered down in some brush and examined Nephyn's map. The Lossoth-witch's marks showed a road which led to the southeastern corner of Carn Dum. There, she had said, we would find the Orc-city of Urugarth and somewhere within that city was a passage into the Enemy's fortress proper. It all sounded more than a little vague to me, but the others appeared confident; even Laddalld was undaunted. Although there was the potential for danger most everywhere, the path laid out for us avoided any large concentrations of the Enemy's soldiery, and so we were able to speak amongst ourselves in whispers from time to time.
"Laddalld," I said to the young Man, "I hope you don't mind me calling you that -- Cutter just seems too odd a name for use in casual conversation."
"I have no objection," he answered cheerily.
"Well, I was just wondering," I said. "What have you been doing in Gath Forthnir? You say you are not one of the Dunedain and Maerchiniath made it plain your time among his people has not been great. What exactly are you doing in Angmar?"
"I have wandered the length and breadth of Eriador for several years now," he replied. "I lend my arm to those who cannot defend themselves and make an honest living thereby. Though lately, enemies have begun pressing in upon good people from all sides -- I have never seen anything like it."
"We, too, have noticed as much," said Lagodir. "Yet you have not answered the question: what brought you to Angmar?"
"Your pardon!" answered Laddalld. "I heard rumours of a terrible evil which may dwell in this land and I came here to try and learn if there was any truth in them."
"A terrible evil indeed," said Gaelira. "It is our hope to put an end to him during this sortie or, at the least, to rob him of a precious artefact which will leave him at a great disadvantage."
"Oh, I don't mean the Steward of Angmar," Laddalld said. "No, there have been rumours of something far deadlier and far more ancient. I wished to know more, and so I made the journey to this land. I stumbled upon the Rangers' encampment quite by accident, but it proved to be an excellent base from which I was able to launch my investigation."
"And what is it you seek?" asked Nephyn.
"I don't know what manner of creature it might be," he said, "But I believe I have found where it lives -- or lived. You yourselves have been there."
"We?" I asked. "Ah, you must be referring to that strange valley with the great stone disk we wandered into yesterday!"
"Yes, the very same," Laddalld said. "I have often been into that valley seeking answers to my many questions. But when I saw you leaving the site just yesterday, I followed you back to Gath Forthnir in great curiosity."
"And what have you learned about that place?" asked Gaelira. "It had a most unwholesome feel about it."
"It does," the young Man replied. "But I have not learned much, for I fear to venture down into that pit. I have learned that it is known among some as the Rift of Nurz Ghashu and that a great battle once took place there, but beyond that I know little."
"Nurz Ghashu?" echoed Gaelira. "That is a phrase in the Black Speech which means to burn in hate, or maybe the hateful burning, depending on the translator. If the Orcs themselves give the place such a name of dread I can only imagine what must lie within it."
"But we're not going there, fortunately," I pointed out, "And we've enough to worry about with where we are going, so let's focus on that for now, shall we? It's bad enough I may never get to see Rivendell again or even put my feet up at the Pony one last time without you lot constantly wanting to gallivant off into some fresh new evil rift or dark chasm or what-not. One nightmarish hell-hole at a time, if you please!"
"Have you been to the Pony?" asked Laddalld eagerly. "How is Old Barley?"
"Old Barley?" repeated Nephyn. "I've only ever heard his good friends call him by that name. Do you know him well?"
"I should think so," came the reply. "All roads lead to Bree, as the saying is, and with the number of miles I've travelled, well, I've been through that town more than a few times, you may be sure."
"Odd that he had never mentioned you," said the huntress, not trying hard to mask her suspicion.
"I have not been to Bree in many months and I try to keep a low profile," Laddalld said. "Besides, anyone who knows Barliman wouldn't be surprised if he forgets the name of a patron -- or eight!"
"You speak as one who has truly seen him," chuckled Lagodir. "But now let us cease using our voices, for see! We draw near to the edge of the Enemy's encampments."
We had indeed. Using the rough landscape and the seemingly unending gloom of Angmar, we dodged one orc-patrol after another as we followed the Lossoth-witch's marks on Nephyn's map. After about an hour of careful maneuvering, we descended down a paved road and through an open stone archway to find ourselves in a most foul setting.
The fortress of Carn Dum itself was nearer than ever, but it was still some ways off. Between us and it lay a perplexing series of roadways, buildings, fortifications, barricades, chasms, and bridges which made up the Orc-city of Urugarth. There is no way anyone could ever give a full written account of everything we did there, for every step was fraught with danger and we had very little idea of where to go. We crossed gorges on rickety bridges that looked ready to collapse under the slightest weight of a hobbit's careful footstep. We tunnelled into mountain-sides through dangerous, poorly built mine shafts, and we ran headlong into dead-ends and were forced to double-back at least three or four times. Though we tried to be stealthy and retain the element of surprise, we were forced to fight our way out of adverse circumstances on more than a few occasions. Finally, the spires of Carn Dum looked to be almost directly in front of us. Yet, try as we might, it seemed we could not find an entrance which passed within those impenetrable walls. The six of us huddled under a massive stone bridge, trying to decide what to do next.
"I say!" I said in a hushed but excited voice. "What's that over there?"
I pointed and the others followed my gaze. It was a thin, spidery little footpath which led off the main road and down a steep slope before disappearing round a bend. Judging from the marks on our map, it appeared we had finally found the secret passage into the fortress! We checked to make sure the way was clear of enemies, then followed the track with a renewed sense of hope.
The path skirted along the edge of a rock-wall, then turned sharply to the right and ran right up to the massive stone wall which formed the foundation of Carn Dum. There were several large metal pipes protruding from that wall, and we walked up to inspect them. At roughly ten paces our group came to a sudden halt, for the stench coming from those pipes was beyond nauseating.
"Ugh!" I cried as I clapped a hand over my mouth and nose. "Not the sewer! Please tell me we're not in the right place!"
"It is the right place, I'm afraid," Nephyn answered grimly.
"Then there is no choice," said Gaelira. "We must go this way." As if in recognition of her words, one of the pipes near us suddenly vomited forth a steaming pile of hideous refuse, the mere stink of which very nearly knocked me over.
I will spare you the details of our ordeal in that place, Dear Reader; suffice it to say we did eventually enter through one of those pipes. After what felt like hours crawling in the darkness among absolute filth, we noticed a faint light coming from ahead of us and above us. We followed this for a while and discovered that those sewers were, in fact, actually built right into the mountain-roots themselves, using a large network of inter-lacing tunnels as pipeways just as often as they used actual iron pipes. We found one tunnel which was gently climbing upward, leading us on toward that faint light. A short time later, we were peeping out of an opening at ground level and a quick scan of the scene before us revealed that we had done it: we were inside of Carn Dum itself!
We decided we had gone far enough for one day and withdrew a short ways back inside the tunnel. It was cramped, but the passage was wide enough to allow us space for sleeping. No one spoke, but we were all so miserable that I doubt anyone felt like talking even if the sound didn't threaten to bring danger upon us. The smell had grown no less, and none of us dared eat anything without a wash, but we all took a little water. Gaelira also permitted me to climb within reach of the dim light coming through the tunnel opening so as to have enough by which to write this entry. I hate this place probably more than any other place I've ever been. At the same time, I can't believe we've made it this far: I can almost begin to believe we might pull this off!
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