Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Angmar

Status
Not open for further replies.

BennyQ

αὐτοκράτωρ
Supporter
Joined
Nov 3, 2013
Location
Canada

The region of Angmar had once been the evil realm of the Witch-King of old, who was later discovered to be chief of the Nazgul, deadliest servants of the Dark Lord of Mordor. It was told in lore that he was a deadly sorcerer who connived in the destruction of the Kingdom of Arnor, which only after a thousand years was refounded by the famous King, Aragorn II Elessar of Gondor, descended in direct linage from the House of Isildur, Elendil’s son. When Arnor had fallen, a great fleet out of Gondor, still mighty in those days, had been sent to its rescue, though it arrived too late to save its sister-kingdom.

But not too late to avenge it. In a great battle, the armies of Angmar were obliterated and the Witch-King fled before his foes. Then, it had been considered a great victory for the free West. Only later had it been learned that with the accomplishment of the destruction of the Dunedain of the north, the Witch-King and his master had no more use for Angmar. It was purposefully abandoned. Yet for the final millennia of the Third Age, it remained infested with orcs, trolls, and all manner of evil things.

Centuries later, near the end of the Age, many of these evil creatures went east to the great battle before the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom of Erebor. As recounted elsewhere in the histories of the north and even among the Shirefolk, many of those same evil creatures perished. But even then, significant numbers remained behind and they had grown until their dark master in Mordor had perished himself at the great turning of the Age. Yet even now, goblin-tribes and troll-dens were not unknown to the region and even the patrols of the refounded kingdom of Arnor did not venture so far north. But neither did the orcs, still fearing the sun and being disunited in their own quarrels. But that now changed, emboldened by the dark and driven by a new power and evil in the earth itself.

But there was a rumour and sighting among those who dared to dwell so far north. A great star fell from the perpetual night sky and have been seen flashing behind the southern teeth of the Ered Angmar, crashing somewhere within the Nan Angmar. Deep in the heart of this evil territory it had fallen and there now it lay, waiting to be touched by the hands of the righteous.

And so after many long days of journey, through the Shire, into Bree, and north along the Greenway which took them through the restored city of Fornost Erain and thus into the northern most wilds of Eriador, on the borders of Angmar, the company had finally arrived…
 
Elvëon of the West / Thromi Shortbeard
Nan Angmar



“Now that is a stench I have not smelled in many long ages.” Elvëon remarked to his companions as they lay along the ridgeline, inspecting the expanse of land before them. It was dark, though after many days of travel in the dark, their eyes had long adjusted to it. Still, an elf’s eyes can see more piercingly and better than those of men, dwarves, and halflings. “And even after this long, it seems to have only gotten worse.”

“You should come to my home in Khazad-Dum.” Thromi remarked, lying not far from the elf. “There are still chambers and halls where the stench of goblins linger. And nothing it seems can take it out.” He crunched his hand around the handle of his axe angrily, recalling the centuries long despoiling that the orcs had done to the ancestral home of the dwarves. And Gundabad, which was akin to a holy place for dwarves, was not far off either from here.

Elvëon didn’t answer. Down on the expanse of land was a collection of rudimentary huts, tents, and in the midst of it all, a great bonfire. Even from here, the harsh language and cries of a strong orc hunting pack could be heard. They were the first obstacle they had run into on their journey so far, other than the laughs, jeers, and disbelieving looks of the folks along the road who thought their errand was foolish or just downright impossible. Using an old elven scouting trick, Elvëon brought both his hands up to frame his eyes, limiting his vision but helping to sharpen the detail of everything he beheld. But the darkness lay thickly on the land before them.

But there was indeed proof that their quest was not in vain. They could see it, far off on the horizon. A glimmer, like the rising sun at dawn. Thromi was staring at it. Did he even remember what dawn looked like? It seemed a beautiful thing and he kept expecting the entire sun to rise up from that glimmer. But none came.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I can count somewhere between twenty and thirty of the foul beasts. They are in the midst of a feast it seems.” Elvëon remarked to his companions. “They sit upon the only way of descent from this ridge down into the lowlands. And into the lowlands we must go.” His eyes darted to the distant glimmer and then to the faces of his companions. He drew back from the ridgeline to their own camp of tents and horses.

“I have one suggestion.” He said to them. “An outright attack on their camp would be foolish. Therefore I suggest we lay an ambush. A few of us go forward and attempt to draw their attentions, at least of their perimeter guards. We bring them into the valley beneath this ridge where it is somewhat wooded and there we surprise them. Eventually more will come to seek out their missing companions. If we can dwindle their numbers by…perhaps half, then maybe an assault on the camp itself will work.” Elvëon explained, glancing at each of their faces. Thromi stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“You’ll need fast movers then.” He said, which clearly wasn’t him, given his extensive equipment, his large axe and coat of heavy mail. Like any dwarf, when he ventured abroad, he went prepared.

“That is why I ask for volunteers.” Elvëon said, looking at his companions. “Well one of you come with me? Or two of you together, if you are proficient with projectile and shot.”
 
[td] text text text text text text text [/td]
[td]
Nairë
Nan Angmar


Nairë was somewhat daunted by the number of the enemy that they must face, though she didn’t show it. Outwardly she was calm. Inwardly she wondered How they could beat such numbers, a small group of five against a group of perhaps thirty?

Thankfully Elvëon seemed to have a plan. One that sounded like it could work well. She was torn between joining him or holding back. As an elf she was quick on her feet and silent, her enhanced eyesight would be useful as well, though she was no good with projectile weapons, her skill as a warrior was sorely lacking. But as a healer she felt she may be needed after the battle, and she could do little to help anyone else if she herself was wounded.

“I shall stay behind with Master Thromi, if one of you is injured you’ll need a healer.” She finally said, decided.

There would be more battles to come. And once they were ready to attack the camp she may very well be needed then, as would Thromi. She busied herself with taking a quick inventory of her healing supplies while the others readied for their mission. Should someone need her she would be prepared to work quickly.​

[/td]
[td] text text text text text text text [/td]
 
Moira Brandybuck
Nan Angmar



Moira followed the rest of her party up the ridge line silent like a shadow, if there had been enough light to cast a shadow. As they laid low to keep from being seen by the orcs below she brushed shoulder to shoulder against Thromi. It seemed she had barely been more than a few feet away from him ever since they left the Shire. Her nose wrinkled at the smell but her eyes went bright at the warm glow beyond the danger of the orcs. She almost expected it to rise like the sun and even though it didn't it gave her heart hope. "It's beautiful." She whispered to Thromi until the tall elf that seemed to lead them brought her attention back to the more immediate problem. She admired but was intimidated by the ancient elf, she felt he could look right through her, into her very soul.

When he asked for volunteers that could move fast and were good with a shot she knew she had to go. She clung a little closer to Thromi as she thought about what she must do. They had not been long on the road before she had shown her skill with a sling and stone. She had a brace of coneys and cooked them up their first night out under the stars. It was an unanswered question whether she could bring down a full sized orc but she had killed more than a few wolves in her time tending the flock. She couldn't exactly not offer her skill to help the plan despite how afraid she was to go closer to the orcs. She had gathered fine round stones all along the way and it was time for her to do her part.

She began to take off her extra gear so she could move fast. She didn't much like the idea of being bait for an ambush but she didn't have any other idea to offer. "You'll be right here won't you?" She asked worriedly, clutching the silver horn that had been in her family since Eomer gave it to Meriadoc. She knew that Thromi would come for her if she blew the horn. She looked at what others would be joining them, making sure she still had her dagger though she hated to think she might need that. It was more like a shortsword for her but if anything it made her feel more helpless.
 
{ Gilraen Bereniel }
About to ambush orcs with her group.

Raen looked between her group, and swallowed hard before stepping forward.
"I am not unfamiliar with sneaking up on my quarry." She told Elvëon. "I would be happy to volunteer to come with you." She added as she drew her bow and gripped it tightly. She was already lightly geared, and would be light on her feet as she went, so her speed should pose no problem for this trap. "Just give me the word, and my arrows are yours to direct."

She took her free hand and brushed some hair out of her face,
before drawing her hood up. She would have to rely on everything she knew if she wanted to try and get out of this in one piece...and even then, survival wasn't guaranteed. She took a moment to still herself, taking deep breaths, so that perhaps her racing heart wouldn't alert her quarry to her presence when the others and herself pursued them.
 
Thorburn Farman
Nan Angmar

'Well this is troubling' Thor thought as he looked over the encampment, it had been weeks since he left dale to investigate the light that streaked across the sky and it had lead him to here.. into the company of a dwarf, Multiple elves, a southerner, and even a Hobbit, most of them women funnily enough, and now at least a score of filthy, vile orcs stood in his way. as he lay there he swore he could smell their stench from here... he returned to the encampment.

Thor quietly puffed his pipe, as he thought of any other option, an ambush wasnt quite the most honorable course of action... but they were orcs, they cared nothing for the notion and thus weren't given its protection. one by one most of them volunteered for the forward party. Taking out his pipe he said in a young voice "when they tell the stories, let none say a knight of dale faltered when it came to the killing of orcs, no matter the number" he said with a smirk looking at the male elf. he wasnt sure if he trusted this ragtag band, but they were heading the same direction and facing the same obstetrical so there was not any more harm throwing his lot in with them, than with trying to assault an orc encampment on his own.

"Though perhaps it would be best if the little one.. Moira? if you stayed back with the master dwarf Laying in ambush, ready to cave in an orcs skull from on high rather than trying to be bait, where frankly your short legs will do you discredit" Thor didnt doubt the halflings skill, only her ability to be easily outpaced by a rampaging orc. he quickly turned his mind from what they might do to her if she was caught.
 
Moira Brandybuck
Nan Angmar



Moira found more courage from among her companions as they began to get themselves ready. She bristled at the knight's suggestion she stay behind. "I didn't come all this way just to hide." Her eyes were like small daggers as she considered the arrogant knight. He might have just meant to keep her safe but she took it as an insult to her ability. She knew so little about him, she had traveled with the others all the way from the Shire, but he was a recent arrival. Maybe he had something to prove, boys were often like that, but it irritated her.

"On open ground a wolf is faster than a rabbit, but in the brush the rabbit gets away." The terrain below them was favorable for a small and quick person like Moira. The need to convince the human gave her extra courage even if it was a bit optimistic. "Besides, I have a few tricks we can play on them." She turned away from the human and faced the ancient elf. Pulling a few long thin cords from her bag. "If we can be a little patient, I can set up a few snares to give the orcs trouble when they give chase." She tried to sound as confident as she could, the thought of being chased by orcs frightened her but they would need a few tricks to make up for their small number. She looked back at the human Thor "Just try not to get tripped up in them yourself." She told him with a small laugh, though it may have been more from nerves than from mirth.
 
Elvëon of the West / Thromi Shortbeard
Nan Angmar


“Peace!” Elvëon said in a rare show of anger, when the human knight and the Halfling. Now was not the time for debate. “There is no time for the setting of traps or snares. We will draw out the foe and make a hasty escape to…” his bright eyes scanned the land between their high ridge and the orc camp, where a thicket of forest and sloping hillside up to where they were characterized the grounds. The trees grew thickly and there was no pathway visible.

“There.” He concluded, pointing with a long finger a bit to their right. There was a small clearing with thick bushes and trees on either side. “Thromi and Thor, you each will place yourselves on either side, to be the anvil and hammer in our ambush. Nairë will remain further up here as our final line but she shouldn’t get involved. Myself, Gilraen, and the perian,” he used the Sindarin word for Halfling, “will go forward and draw the enemy. When we pass through that clearing, we will turn at the base of the climb and give battle. That is where you two warriors leap out behind and smote the enemy in their rear. We shall do this however many times is required until the enemy numbers have been culled.”

“With discipline and luck of the heavens, we shall prevail. Leave your bags and gear here and take only what you need for battle. Perhaps,” Elvëon continued, turning to Gilraen, “you should give your bow to Nairë. We will be too close quarters for you to use it. Nor will we provoke the orcs with shooting. Let them think it is anything but an attack upon their camp, in order to maximize our surprise.” He looked at both women, hoping they would agree.

Thromi nuzzled Moira’s shoulder with his hand. “I’ll be here and if any should be hot on your tail then they will have me to contend with. The rabbits will become the wolves then and we shall bite deeply into our foes with iron.” He said with a grin, axes in hand. He didn’t like the notion of hiding in bush and thicket but the elf had a wise strategy to employ against superior numbers. “You plot like a true captain of war, master elf. Is there much battle across the seas in your land?”

“Me?” Elvëon said, drawing out his naked blade, forged ages ago for a different time and conflict. It was still sharp and deadly. “No, not I. Six millennia or more has it been when I last drew steel in battle. Let us hope I have not forgotten too much.” He said with a bemused grin, forgetting he was with mortals and younger elves.

Six millennia! Thromi was astonished. They were following an elf who hadn’t fought or been in a battle in six thousand years?! And the last time he skirmished with goblins but not a few months ago. “And what is it exactly you’ve done in that time?” He asked with surprise.

“Me?” Elvëon said again without a change in tone. “I’m a glassblower. I shape beads, ornaments, trinkets…” he shrugged, looking to Gilraen and Moira, as if that was the end of the discussion. Should it matter? The one war he had partaken in, the War of Wrath, lasted longer than the live spans of most men! An entire continent had been drowned. There had not been such a deadly conflict since then, except perhaps for the one to come still. “Ready? Follow me. And not a sound, any of you. Put that pipe out, sir.” He said to Thor as well. The night eyes of the orcs might see the burning of the embers too. They wouldn’t want that.

Moving slowly, Elvëon went over the edge of the ridge and slid slowly down to the treeline, a drop of a few feet. He climbed slowly to his feet and stalked through the thick woods, occasionally looking back to see if his two companions were with him, until they neared the other treeline some thirty paces from the ridge. He hoped the others were getting into position.

When the others had gone, Thromi nodded to Thor, the knight of Dale. “We should go too, and quietly.” He glanced back to Nairë. “Fare well!” he said to the female elf. “Hopefully your skills won’t be needed.” He joked with a morbid smile. The healer not having anything to do would be a good day, no? No blood, no wounds, no bandages. That would be an extraordinary good outcome. When Thor was ready, Thromi moved down into the forest to the appointed clearing and ambush spot and took his place in some dense foliage.

Further ahead, peering out from behind the trunk of a tree, Elvëon could make out the perimeter of the orc camp, where a half dozen of the creatures were sitting around a fire, sharpening weapons and barking to one another in their guttural tongue. They were at ease and relaxed, thinking there were no foes in this place. “Who can mimick the sound of a woodland animal?” Elvëon asked Gilraen and Moira in a whisper.
 
Moira Brandybuck
Nan Angmar



Moira was about to poke the knight of Dale once again when she was silenced by the ancient elf's anger. His ferocity was overwhelming, at least at first. She held her tongue as he squashed her plan to set traps. The terrain was favorable to her size at least and she would have extra incentive to run back towards the security of Thromi.

"I have a name." She said, finding her voice once again even if she did keep it low as Elvëon explained his plan. She was already stripped down for speed, keeping her sling and stones just in case. The idea of turning to give battle sent a chill up her spine and she preferred to be able to do that at a distance if possible. She puzzled over why he would take their weapons of choice from them but she lacked the confidence to challenge him outright.

She did not share Thromi's awe at the elf's age. "Six thousand years and he doesn't have time for traps?" She said under her breath thinking only Thromi could hear, forgetting what excellent hearing elves were reputed to have. Hobbits were often lucky but Moira felt they were pressing theirs with this plan. Thromi's contact and brave words gave her more courage and soon she was following the elf and the human hunter towards the orc camp. She was as silent as a church mouse as they worked nearer to the orc sentries.

Moira looked blankly for a moment as the elf asked his question, afraid to make a noise so close to their camp. "I can mimic a thrush's song well enough, but maybe something they might want to eat, like a sheep or goat?" She feared they might prefer hobbit to mutton in any event. She didn't know many forest creatures, the Shire being more pastoral than woodland. She turned to look at Gilraen, hoping she might prove more useful in this task.
 
[td] text text text text text text text [/td]
[td]
Nairë
Nan Angmar


Nairë was glad for the new addition to their group, especially with the number of enemy they faced this night. And the number, growing as the darkness lingered on, they would face in the days to come. Though at the moment she felt the beginnings of irritation with the man and his careless opinions of the abilities of Moira, the irritation only growing as the halfling quipped back. She could sense the argument coming, but before she could speak to stop it Elvëon spoke, anger making the word ‘peace’ sound harsh in the quiet night.

“We cannot afford to argue amongst ourselves.”
She said pointedly, looking from one to the other. Though her tone was firm it lacked the anger of her elven companion. “Trust, Sir Thorburn, that we know the abilities of our companions and of ourselves.”

Turning to Elveon she said, “I have my knife. It will suit me well enough, Gilraen need not give up her bow.” Nairë was quiet after that, listening to the others speak. A slight raising of her eyebrows the only sign that she was surprised and shocked by what was said. She had known Elvëon was far older then she, but she had no idea how much so. Nor how long it had been since he had fought in battle. Though she had no fear that he would be lacking, or rusty in his skills.

When it was time she moved into her position to wait. Sending up a silent prayer for her companions, that her skills would be needed only for minor wounds, if at all. Though it was naïve to think there would be no blood shed from their side. She stood alert and ready, the quiet making her tense.

[/td]
[td] text text text text text text text [/td]
 
With disgusted relish, the ugly grey-skinned orc spat a heavy gob onto the ground. “Yak! I can still taste the needles of that disgusting beast, or whatever it was. What’s the boss thinkin’, bringin’ us to a dump like this? There’s better game yonder south, I tell ya.”

His companion, a squatter but thicker of limb orc, shook his head. “You shut your damn mouth maggot, before the higher ups hear. That beast was a gift of the Dark One so best keep your protests to yourself. Don’t you know things is changing? They don’t settle for that sort of talk anymore.”

“Bugger the bosses.” The first orc said. “I want some real meat, not this garbage they fetch up on a whimsy and give to us as gifts. Are you blind or just stupid? What’s one little walk into the woods there going to do? We’ll be back before you can pick the needles from your brain.”

“They’ll have us up on report, damn you. And then it’ll be for the pits. Little Snaga over there, him and his buddies are watchers of the boss.” The second orc said, looking at a nearby trio huddling over something disgusting on the ground. Eating actual maggots, no doubt. Fucking slave grub.

“And listeners too, if you’re deaf alongside being blind and stupid.” One of them said back when addressed. “And if you big shitforbrains are done arguing, you’ll be hearing it too. Listen!” All five of them fell silent, jerking their heads like birds, listening. And they heard it. A faint cry, off in the woods just to the south like the first orc kept saying. Something was there, nearby. A thrush. Maybe more. Maybe a few they could shoot out of the trees and have some pies to feast on. They all had visions of fresh meat, raw, ripping apart in their yellow fanged teeth.

“Quick and easy, just like I said.” Said the first orc, clutching a throwing knife and peering at its tip intently. That bird won’t know what hit it. “Now you maggots stay back and give me some room. I’ll sneak up on the beast and gut it. Not altogether now, or you’ll scare it. And then I’ll be having your ears and nose in a soup to fill my belly instead…!”



Elvëon of the West / Thromi Shortbeard
Nan Angmar


When the five orcs broke off, two large and three small, it was time for their distraction to run back to safety. Thromi was waiting for her and grinned when Moira returned. “That’s it! They believe you and they’re coming. Come on, let’s get back into position. Good work.” He said, nudging her shoulder with a smile. Careful not to rustle his armour too much, he moved to the allotted ambush spot, and waited. He clutched his axe in two hands. Finally, he would get to use it.

Yet despite the approach of the orcs, it was deathly quiet. The orcs moved like well trained hunters, not making a sound. Even Elvëon’s ears could scarcely detect them. This was their element, under cover of darkness, sneaking around in the night. But if they couldn’t hear them, they could certainly smell them, and it was like a sewage pipe had been opened in the tree trunks above. The orc moved into the clearing with jerking movements, looking this way and that, sniffing. And sniffing a lot. Suspicion was in his expression. Something was wrong here. He straightened to his full height, turned, and was about to shout a warning to his fellows.

Elvëon rose out of the murky trees like a ghost, eyes gleaming in the dark with a fury. He stepped behind the orc, sword clutched with both hands, and promptly struck down the foul beast with a slash across its back. The orc fell heavily on its knees and slumped forward, dead. Elvëon side stepped behind a tree and crouched in the bush. The other orcs arrived, hearing the sound.

“Ay, you must have caught a big one with that noise! Where-“ one of them snapped loudly in congratulations, until they came upon the corpse. They all paused, shocked by the scene, grabbing their weapons. The big one came over and leaned over the first. “Oy, you taking a nap?” He demanded, kicking the other. The other three sniffed, like the self-eating cannibals they no doubt were. They smelled dead flesh. This was even better!

“He done tripped and cracked his empty shell!” One of them laughed and they all came forward to prod, despoil, and loot.

Their backs were to the others. Now was the chance to strike!
 
Moira Brandybuck
Nan Angmar



Moira had never been so frightened in her entire life. Her legs felt like over cooked pasta but she forced herself to move forward, carefully and most important, silently. Even when wolves had stalked her flock on cold nights, she hadn't been like this. Of course the wolves were after the baby lambs, not the rock throwing shepherdess, but now she was the baby lamb and most certainly on the menu. She took one more look back towards Thromi, which gave her no small courage, enough to keep going a few steps more at least. She kept moving until she could just make out the dark figures and their coarse voices. She felt her heart pounding in her small chest as she tried to lick her lips, her mouth suddenly too dry to make her call. She took one of the smaller stones she carried for her sling and slipped it past her lips. Sucking on it helped and in a few moments that seemed like an eternity she was ready to try. She made several calls as the orcs talked but then she heard them fall silent. They had heard her.

As frightening as the sound of the orcs was, the silence was downright terrifying. She had to force herself not to break into a flat out, and noisy, run. She kept quiet making her way quickly but carefully back to her dwarf and some semblance of safety. She blushed at his compliment and knew they had to move quickly, but she couldn't help herself. She pulled him back with all her strength then wrapped her arms as far as they would go around him as she kissed and hugged him. It was only a moment but that was all she needed. In seconds she was running to their next position.

They got covered just in time to turn and watch as the elf cleanly and silently slayed the first orc then disappeared. Seeing the orcs at closer range, they were the stuff of halfling nightmares. She was glad Thromi was so close but the plan was to draw them closer so she stepped out of cover as the orcs preyed upon their fallen comrade in a disgusting orgy of cannibalistic gluttony. Had they not been so pre-occupied with their fallen brother they might have heard the subtle whistling of the stone in Moira's sling. She doubted she could slay one of them, but she could certainly get one's attention. She let her stone bullet fly, it was a little higher than she might have wanted. It skipped off the top of one of the small orcs' scarred heads. If his blood had been any color but black she might have noticed she drew blood, but it was too dark for that. Instead the beast looked up, it's evil eyes focused upon hers. She turned and ran as it broke for her and she led it right past the spot Thromi was waiting.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top Bottom