Session 17: Captives and Eagles.

The Southern Raider, surprised by the attack from behind, slammed his face directly into the large shield that Frerin held up and braced against the stone. Frerin had seen Lodin leaping through the air - and though it’d taken a moment to figure out what this Bardling was doing - his mind quickly adapted and realized Lodin’s intentions. Though the large shield was of little use to his small stature, it made for a solid wall when a dwarf of his strength braced it against the ground and put his weight behind it.

Winded, the Southern Raider had tried to recover his wits and breath, but not before both Lodin and Frerin, who tossed the shield aside were upon him.

Just on the  other side of this, Maethordan dashed from the hole in the wall and placed himself between the few remaining ruffians and Anna. As he did so, he too whistled to the eagles and pointed them to attack the nearest the remaining ruffian in the keep, who had not been tackled by Lodin.

Fay fired a shot, striking the robber, who turned to see her and growled, “You! I won’t kill you, we need you since Anna is refusing to -”

However, his sentence is not completed as a large shadow, even on this night where the moon glowed brightly, passed over him. He had little time to realize what was happening before his screams vanished into the night, as the Giant Eagle, Beleram carried him away.

Maethordan reached Anna and united her, glad to see, other than dirt and mud all over his face and clothing, she looked relatively well. Gasping, witnessing all she’d just seen, she looked at Maethordan, “Who are you people? I know Fay, over there,” she pointed to Fay, who rose up from the tower, after seeing the battle was done. “I’ve known Fay for a long time. She doesn’t have friends like you. Or,” she looked up as Beleram, Baranthor and Armanel landed on the walls of the ruined keep. “Friends like those. This could not all have been for me.”

Lodin and Frerin tie up the Southern Raider and position him against the wall. He curses and spits, proclaiming, “You will get nothing out of me.”

Beleram edges closer. “Strider has sent us to seek you out. News is dark. Finish your business here and we will fly you back to Strider.” 

Lodin looked at the Southern Raider whom they’d captured. "Hmmmm, is that so? Well as far as I can tell, if you have any self interest you'll want to cooperate. By this point you are a liability either as a deserter or a snitch to your group. Let's start with some small questions. What was he talking about? You know, the one carried off by the eagle. Why did you take Anna, and even want to take Fay?”

Lodin, with the prisoner securely fastened, escorted him to one of the small campfires, by the northern gate, which Dolly had managed to kick down.

While he seemed a little shaken between what he's just seen and now being the apparent sole survivor of his comrades, he looked at Lodin with disdain. "What's the benefit if I cooperate? Like you said, I am either a deserter or a snitch. They'd find me and kill me. So I have nothing to say because I am a dead man, regardless."

Maethordan searched the corpses of the fallen ruffians on the floor level of the ruins, finding very little of interest. He looked at Lodin and shook his head. His eyes went to the taller tower, where he knew two others had been - the first to fall to the giant eagles’ attacks. He silently gestured toward the tower and began his ascension up the stairs.

Up in the tower, as Maethordan searched the two rooms in the tower - he found several straw beds, and arrows of every make - some made by the hands of humans from Bree, some even bore resemblance to arrows of Minas Tirith, Gondor and Rohan, while among them were arrows from Rivendell and arrows from the Shire. Hundreds upon hundreds of arrows were here - undoubtedly stolen from those the ruffians had ambushed and brought to the high tower to shoot from. 

Lodin looked back down at the prisoner, "You get to live. Cooperating saves your life, not from me but from them. Even if out of self interest you help take down an evil organization, it is a good thing. When was the last time you did something good? For now, they would assume you died with the rest. We can keep it that way and you have a rare opportunity to choose a different life."

The Southerner looked from Lodin, to Maethordan, to Fay up on the wall, and the three giant eagles. "It's pretty words you speak, but you're not any form of Bree law. I can tell by your accent. That one over there is a Ranger, by the looks. And the girl up on the wall, I know she's from Bree, but she's not a part of the law. You make promises of freedom that you can not deliver."

"I make no promise of freedom,” Lodin retorted, “only life and a possibility of redemption. Is your own life of so little value to you, you would give it up for this? Loyalty is commendable, but loyalty to what? Is a man's loyalty to his dog to be reckoned as equal to his wife? Likewise loyalty to evil is no longer commendable. Or have you been convinced the law will treat you unfairly? Will you answer me this? What is your name?"

The Southern smiled, "Welton Wayland is my name. As for the loyalty," he shook his head, "it has nothing to do with that. When I became a part of this organization, it was before... they came along. First it was the orcs... then came the... Cargûl..." He shook his head. "I am as good as dead as soon as they hear we've failed."

"How long before that happens? The two who came to you warning you of us, what happened to them?" Lodin asked.

“Two? Only one made it,” Welton replied. Lodin knew that the two ruffians had run in separate directions when they fled from the battle near Weathertop. Could that mean there was still one out there?

"And what about the rest of these men, are they all like you? Why did you join them in the first place, before the others came?" Lodin asked.

“Why?” Welton laughed. “Why do you think people turn to a life of crime? Because fate is cruel, friend,” he says the word with some venom. “We did what we had to, to survive. Just like wolves, your chance of survival is greater in packs than alone. So that’s why we came together originally. It was a small operation at first. Random ambushes on travelers and merchants. We kept it infrequent so we wouldn’t draw too much attention. Then the orcs came - started bossing us around. Anyone who didn’t listen got themselves killed. Then we met the orc’s leader… the Cargûl… but the orcs… I don’t speak their wicked tongue… but they too were afraid of the Cargûl… they too did not like its unholy presence.”

Fay Foxglow descended from the position she'd taken and rushed to Anna Wintermoss and hugged her. "What is going on?" they both seem to ask one another simultaneously. 

They both laugh nervously.

"You first," Anna nodded to Fay.

Fay looked around the battlefield, then the Great Eagles, then her companions. "I am not even sure where to start, to be honest." She shook her head. "We, myself and the other two," she pointed to Lodin and Maethordan, "got summons from Gandalf to go to Weathertop. There was another, Hobart," she said, whom Anna knew as the woodsman who lived outside of Bree, "but he had other business to attend to to help with the Rangers of the North."

"Rangers of the North?" She looked at Fay then to the young man who'd rescued her. "I noticed you traveling with one."

Fay shook her head. "We were on our way to Weathertop when we came across ruffians - and after a fight, two of them got away. But we found they'd been ambushing travelers and collecting weapons from traders on the road that they ambushed. And one of them was Gabriel Greyfield, and he was killed."

"Gabriel?" Anna said mournfully. "I should have known," Anna said, her voice trailing.

Fay looked at her oddly, but Anna waved her on to continue. "Well, when we got to Weathertop, we met with Gandalf and another Ranger of the North named Strider. They were convinced something was stirring... more goblins in the Midgewater Mashes... heightened ruffian activity on the Great Road as well in Chetwood... Rangers were dispatched to do some investigation... one hadn't returned, so others were sent... we were sent to track the ruffians we'd encountered... and tracked them here."

Anna nodded her head to the Great Eagles. "You've not mentioned them?"

"Them?" Fay looked over her shoulder. "I don't know why they're here."

Fay looked at Anna, "Now your turn..."

Anna sighed deeply, "There is much to tell. These brigands now have aligned themselves with orcs... who now follow something they call a ... Cargûl... this... Cargûl ... I," she shivered. "It fills me with great dread. When it speaks... it speaks from some unholy place... it's voice sounds disconnected from it's body... there is no face I can see beneath the red robes... but it had wanted me to forge a poison to sicken the people of Bree... to poison their water supply... I refused... so they recruited Gabriel, and he, as you know, was never good at the herbal practice, despite his best efforts... and so he became a brigand... however, he gave them your name... he knew you were good with herbalism... they were going to come for you next... and if you didn't do it... they would torture you in front of me until I would agree... or they would kill you, if I continued to refuse. This isn't the first time," Anna shook her head. "The Cargûl had said it had visited your home before... asked your grandfather... who refused... and a mysterious illness took him... he returned again... and asked your mother, she refused.... and a mysterious illness took her as well. I suspect the Cargûl is behind their death."

Fay grips her bow tightly as anger swelled in her chest. She recalled the dream… the dream she had had while sleeping at Weathertop…

She recalled the dream again, her mind tumbling back into the shadow… She was roughly five years old, her grandfather was standing in the living room of her home... there was a man there, cloaked, his face obscured by shimmering shadows.

"Please," the stranger said, his voice haunting. "I beg you to reconsider. They know how well you handle herbs. They know you can help me. I have no choice to do what they ask of me. They have my daughter. They need me to make more, but I can only do so much. You're the only one who knows as much as I do about herb-lore. You know how to make what they ask of me."

Her grandfather, who sternly looked at the stranger, shook his head. "I can not and will not do what you ask of me. Even if it costs you your daughter." Her grandfather mentioned the stranger's name, but it is oddly inaudible to her, sounding muffled.

Just then, her mother had entered through the front door, having gone out and collected herbs. The Stranger looked at her, then looked at her grandfather and simply said, "Please consider what I have asked." Then with a bow to her mother, and a pat on her own head, he exited the house. She remember her mother asking your grandfather who that had been - and her grandfather refused to speak of it.

That was no unholy being like Anna described… but could it have been an agent of this

"I am so sorry, Fay," Anna added as tears brimmed in Fay's eyes. "The Cargûl came from Felyadûr ... the cave system in the Barrow-Downs... where there is also the underground lake that runs through and trails out into the rivers that Bree uses for their water supply... the brigands were keeping me here because they were coming for you next Fay..." She pointed, "Over there, is the herbalism room that they had gathered."

Maethordan descended down the stairs and saw Lodin signalling to him. "If anyone is short on ammunition there are plenty of arrows in the tower."

"Would your captain be willing to provide protection to Welton here if he provides valuable information? Also, how is Anna?" Lodin asked.

Though he wondered about Anna, he could see that she was fine and Fay and her had been speaking.

The young ranger looked the bandit up and down and said "Protection unlikely, but there may be work for him and working for the rangers may be protection enough. Anna is shocked and a bit worse for wear but is with Fay, I thought a familiar face might help her to adjust to what is going on."

"Well, Welton? What do you say to that? Would a deal with the rangers suit you to keep you out of the hands of your group, the orcs, and this Cargûl? What is a Cargûl anyhow?" Lodin asked.

Hearing the name 'Cargûl' slide off of Lodin's lips so gingerly, Welton shivers. "Listen. Get me in the Rangers and far from here, and you have yourselves a deal. But I won't broker such a deal with the three of you. I want to speak with whoever is in charge of these Rangers!"

"Then you have a deal. I hope you don't mind catching a ride on an eagle. My name is Lodin by the way. We'll take you to the ranger Captain soon." Lodin looked around for Frerin spotting him lumbering awkwardly with his shield still. "Ah, Master dwarf, I can take that back from you. What do you say about coming with us for a while until we have sorted the root cause of these troubling incidents? We have a deal with this one to take him to the rangers and he'll give us information about the bandits, orcs, and something called Cargûl. Why don't you come sit down by the fire?" He nodded indicatively towards the bandit as a hint. 

Frerin nodded. "There certainly seems to be something bigger at play here. I like to keep my feet on the ground - but if riding one of them beasts is the quickest way, I'll do it."

He joined Lodin by the fire and looked at the restrained ruffian. "Consider yourself the lucky one, considering what happened to your other companions here..."

Lodin moved around the ruins, gathering the fallen ruffians to bury them. "Well,” he said to the dwarf, as he dragged one of the bodies by the bloody arm, “Dolly won't be riding any eagle so I must return in the manner familiar to mortals. You could join me if you'd like your feet firmly planted."

As Lodin gathered the bodies of the slain ruffians, Frerin kept an eye on Welton. "I wouldn't do anything stupid," the dwarf warned, "or else those great Eagles might do the same to you that they've done to your companions."

Welton turned his head to look at the great Eagles, which seemed to fidget, impatiently, on the tattered roof of the ruins, watching all within the ruins with great curiosity and urgency.

Anna Wintermoss and Fay Foxglow make their way to the herbalism room - and opened the door, Fay was overcome by the vast fragrant smells that burst from the enclosed room. Plants and herbs of every kind grew in scattered pots and barrels, while others still hung. As Fay moved through the room, some of these she recognized her mother and even her grandfather having used before. "Some of these," she turned to Anna, "come from far away lands, and some still," her hand touched one of the hanging plants, "come from deep in the mountains."

Anna nodded, "All of this, used properly, can provide great healing, or great sickness. The Cargûl had wanted the latter. We should not stay here long. The Cargûl will return to see if the brigands had captured you and brought you here." Anna looked around the room, "We should grab some of these that grow around Bree," she said as she began to carefully pick several of them. "The other more unique plants would not survive long outside of their environment. This is why the Cargûl had tried so urgently to force me to make the poison for the water supply."

Outside the herbalism room, Lodin finished dragging the fallen ruffians, having lined them up. He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Welton, is there a shovel around here anywhere?"

Welton, thankful to see his fallen comrades treated respectfully, gestured with his head, “Over there. That shed.”

Lodin burst into the room obliviously not thinking to look for traps. The door swung open and smashed against the wall. The door, barely even a place holder, fell off the hinges and crashed to the floor. Inside the room were barrels of goods - various fruits in crates and barrels. There were some parchments, most of them seem to be agreements that merchants who were victims of these ruffians may have been carrying. Along the wall are three shovels and two rakes.

As Lodin began to dig graves, joined by Maethordan, who grabbed a shovel as well, and began to dig, Lodin looked to Beleram, "As soon as the others are ready to go you should take them to Weathertop. I'm afraid I must remain with my horse and return on foot." He looked at Welton, “This one, for the time being may be of use if you don't mind carrying him as well." 

Fay and Anna exit from the herbalism room to hear Lodin. "We're riding on those?" Anna asked, aghast at the idea.

Beleram fidgeted, "I assure you, Lady Wintermoss, your voyage will be a safe one."

Beleram turned to Lodin, then his eagle eyes narrowed on Welton. "Are you sure you don't need us to drop that one from great heights?"

The Great Eagle seemed to have a sense of humor.

Or it could be serious.

It was hard to tell.

"Naturally," Beleram said after a moment, "we'd be happy to carry that one to Weathertop as well."

"Thank you. Your arrival was well appreciated. That many ruffians was likely to be too much for us. Thank you." Lodin smiled, leaning on the shovel to take a brief breather. "Would you like one of the ladies to attend to the arrows?"

Beleram seemed to bow his head, and open his wings slightly, almost as if bowing. "Master Strider is to thank. He signaled us when he received news at Weathertop and asked us to seek you out."

Beleram looked at the arrows in himself and his two companions. "They hurt, but," he began to pry them out with his beak. "Nothing fatal."

Anna, with a raised eyebrow, shook her head as she approached Lodin with Fay. "I am not even sure if I would know what to do. I do have some herbs that could ease the pain."

Beleram, Baranthor - who had been the most severely wounded, and Armanel descend from their perched location, their massive wing spans, kicking up dust as they land on the ground, lifting their wings to indicate where they'd been hit.

Anna, still nervous, reached into her pouch and pulled out some of the recently acquired plants and began to rub them on the wounds. "This won't heal the wounds, it would take me days to make such a thing, but this will numb the pain."

"Already it subsides," Beleram noted. "My thanks, Lady Wintermoss."

Dolly watches Lodin dig, and begins to use her hooves to loosen the soil and dig as well.

Lodin smiled and gave her an affectionate pat.

After the burial had been complete, of the fallen brigands, Lodin put the acquired shovel on Dolly’s saddle bag. “We might need it again,” he said. “One of the two brigands never made it here. He either didn’t make it or he’s still out there.”

After helping Lodin bury the ruffians, Maethordan searched the other rooms, discovering an office that had several weapons and suits of armor and ledgers (most of which were hard to decipher), as well as a stable with three horses. Maethordan suggested, "If Lodin is taking Dolly back then he can lead the horses back loaded up with much equipment as is safe including the ledgers."

Anna looked, “Well, if he’s riding a horse back, I would much rather go with him,” she pointed to Lodin. Then looked at the Great Eagles. “I mean no offense to you three,” she quickly amended.

Fay also nodded, “I would like to ride on horseback as well,” she confessed.

“Then let us take the prisoner to Weathertop. We shall inform Strider that the four of you are coming on horse back,” Belaram said.

It was decided.

Beleram grabbed Welton by his massive talons and took flight, kicking up loose dirt.

Lodin, Maethordan, Fay and Anna all looked at one another as the Giant Eagles vanished into the night. After a moment, the eerie silence washed over the ruins. There were no owls, frogs, or crickets. Only silence.

The following morning, Lodin prepared Dolly, while Maethordan helped Fay and Anna onto a horse, before sliding onto his own horse. It’d been two days of travel, back to Weathertop, and it had all gone without incident. An eerie silence, however, seemed to follow them throughout the night as they pulled the wagon of armor, weapons, and food behind them. Only the clanging metal seemed to be the noise that they heard. All other natural sounds, wolves howling, owls hooting, scattering of rabbits beneath the brush, all seemed muted.

Ascending Weathertop, the three Giant Eagles could be seen perched on one of the ruins. There at the top was Halldor, one of the Rangers of the North, who had gone to Bree, with some of the slain ruffians that they’d fought near the base of Weathertop. Sigurd, who had also gone to Bree, with Hobart, and warn Captain Percy Skyhawk of the recent ruffian activity, was also present. Still missing was Hergrim, who had been sent to Archet, the one Strider personally had gone to investigate.

Welton was here as well, still tied, but being take care of by Sigurd.

Strider was here as well, his face, white and grim. Upon the arrival of Lodin, Fay, Maethordan, and Anna, his face seemed to feign cheerfulness as he said, “I see you found and rescued Lady Wintermoss as this one proclaimed,” he gestured toward Welton.

Strider paced back and forth. “I had gone to Archet to find what had happened to Hergrim.” He paused, as if thinking how to describe what happened next. “Hergrim had been murdered.”

“Murdered?” Anna was shocked. Rangers of the North were not immortal, but they were so well attuned with nature it seemed almost impossible that one could murder a Ranger of the North.

Strider nodded his head. “And the blade that slit his throat came from the Mayor of Archet, William Stanwick. But William’s hand was forced,” Strider continued. “I dare say it was not even William anymore who struck down Hergrim. From what I learned from Captain Brackenbrook, who was a captain in Archet - that William began to have feverish dreams - voices calling to him in his sleep. These voices led William outside of Archet, where somewhere, it’s unsure where, he found a black blade. Once the blade was in his possession, Captain Brackenbrook said that William became fanatical and paranoid. When he found Hergrim in the woods, he believed Hergrim to be an orc spy and murdered him. When I was taken to Hergrim’s body - there was no body there, only an unholy wraith. It took much from me to destroy it - but what rose was no longer Hergrim. Whatever that black blade did, did that to Hergrim. William fled after Captain Brackenbrook tried to arrest him for the murder of Hergrim.”

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Fellowship Points:

4 (1 per player) + 2 (Gandalf) = 3

Fellowship Bonus: Gandalf

You can spend a Fellowship point to roll an additional d20 after a saving throw (but before the outcome is determined) and choose which of the d20s is used.

Note: The player who controlled Fay left after Session 16, which was a shame - because this session tied to her background (Anna Wintermoss) as well as the reveal that somehow the mysterious new enemy, the Cargûl seemed tied to her background as well. So in this session I simply took over the role of Fay so that this part of the story (at least with Anna Wintermoss) could properly play itself out since it'd been the main reason the party had come to these ruins. The dream sequence mentioned that Fay thinks about indeed had been a dream sequence I had privately messaged Fay while the character rested in Weathertop - trying to foreshadow this. Always a bummer, when as a GM you're trying to set up some cool story elements and something like this (the player leaving the game) happens just before it all comes out. Ah, well, what can you do?

The note, seen down below, was found when Maethordan searched the upper rooms - but he hadn't shared it with anyone, but I just wanted to capture the image here before I lose it.

If anyone is curious - the Cargûl do not appear in Lord of the Rings proper - however, they appear in the Lord of the Rings Online game. Because I did not want to use the Nazgûl, which I felt might have been too powerful for the party -I  opted to use the idea of the Cargûl instead - and in regards to how it would fit with Lore, Gandalf did tell Frodo in Rivendell, after he'd recovered from being stabbed with a Morgul-Blade that had he succumbed to the shard in the wound he would have come a "wraith like them, only lesser and under their power." So essentially the  Cargûl is just a stronger form of Wraith, but nowhere near as powerful as the dreaded Nazgûl. This would allow me to create a stronger enemy without too much concern of stepping all over "proper Tolkien lore."