Loons of the Long Fell

From Lexicanum

   

"In Imladris it lies"

After a couple of days rest at the Inn at the Last Bridge, Hazard and Iflire decided that they really must pursue the task set by their respective lords and deliver their message to Elrond Half-elven  at Rivendell, which lay some distance to the east. The others in the party readily agreed to accompany the two and next morning the Grumms gave them a splendid send off with a slap-up breakfast. They also donated several days trail rations top boot -   including, much to Bobbin’s delight, some of Mrs Grumm’s famous mutton pasties.
 
The eight day trip towards Rivendell along the Great East Road was fairly quiet. On the third day Martak suspected an ambush was ahead of them when a small flight of birds rose started from the undergrowth ahead, but when Bobbin and Elbragol investigated, though they found signs of orcs, they appeared to have headed off to the north. After a brief discussion they decided not to pursue the orcs but rather continue the journey.
 
Arriving at Rivendell on the morning of the eighth day, they were greeted by an elf who introduced himself as Ingold. While one of the servants took charge of Hazard’s horse, the elf took them into the house and offered refreshments, asking what business they had in Rivendell. Hearing of the messages that Hazard and Iflire bore he bade them wait while he arranged a meeting wit Elrond, the others he told make themselves free of the  hospitality. An hour or so later the two were ushered in to the library where Elrond awaited. The lord of Rivendell greeted them most graciously and received their despatches.

The party spent three or four days enjoying the hospitality of the elves, before deciding to return to their base of operations back at the Inn. The trip back was uneventful, save for a chance encounter with a trader heading from Lake Town to Bree, and they arrived back just as the sun set on the last day of Narbeleth. The inn was busy that night, though as they enetered Grumm found the time to wave cheerily at them from behind the bar. Turlin the bard was entertainging a group of locals and travellers near the fireside with a bawdy ballad and both Goldang the Herbalist and Falen the Trader were sitting at tables enjoying Mrs Grumm’s cooking. Leddon came out from the kitchen and took their orders, and in short order they were fed and watered.

After the meal as they leaned back and listened to Turlin playing on his lute, the outside door opened and a wizened crone, leaning heavily on a gnarled staff cane in. She went to the bar and spoke to Grumm who pointed in the direction of th etable the party were seated at. The old woman came over and introduced herself as Cigfa, and told them she had a proposition thatt might interest the party and suggested they go somewhare more private to discuss. They retired upstairs to the party’s room where Cigfa presented her tale.

Many years ago a notorious group of bandits had plagued the area, before being hunted down and slain by a party of Dunandan sent by the Lords of Rhudaur.   During their career the bandits had accumulated a treasure hoard which she believed was hidden somewhere in the surrounding region. Within that treasure was a magical item – the Kine's Horn. As Cigfa was crippled she was unable to go after the treasure herself, if the party agreed to  help her, they were welcome to all the other treasure - all she wanted was the horn. The party readily agreed to this and Cigfa gave them the two clues she had obtained.

The first was in the form of a poem she had stumbed upon while researching the story of the bandits.

The second was that a local landholder, one Fuilcwian the Herder, was the son of one of the bandits, Cigfa believed he, unknowingly, held the key to the vault the treasure was hidden  in.
map

"Sheep get like shepherds, and shepherds get like sheep"

 The party quizzed Cigfa for some time, gleaning what knowledge she had about the bandits. She told them that the bandit’s chief - Loech - was a Hillman from Cameth Brin; that the Dunedan who had slain the bandits had been killed in battle against the Angmarim near the barrow-downs. Fuilcwian’s father was only a lad at the time, and though he wasn’t with the bandits when they were ambushed, he later met his comeuppance, being hanged for a traitor after being discovered taking money from the Angmarim.
 
Next morning, they bought some trail rations from the Grumms (at a nice discount) and readied themselves to set out on a foul wet morning. Before they departed Elbragol and Hazard noticed that Turlin was having breakfast and went to ask him what he knew of the bandits. The bard confirmed everything Cigfa had told them but also added one point, that he believed the bandits had discovered the long-lost Low Road of the Petty-dwarves , an underground route that allegedly crossed beneath what was now the Trollshaws, hence why they had proved so difficult to track.
 
hill When finally they set out, heading for Fuilcwian’s holding, it was a miserable trip - the unseasonably warm weather producing torrential downpours. About a day or so out from the inn Iflire spotted the tracks of a cart heading off the road into the forest. Intrigued by this they followed for a while, discovering the cart, emptied and broken hidden in a hollow. The driver, whom Iflire recognised as the one they’d exchanged pleasantries with on the road a few days ago was dead with two arrows in him.  The arrows were of human manufacture and Iflire and Tintallë found tracks of booted feet heading to the north before they lost them, washed away by the heavy rain. As if in an echo of the quest they were on – bandits had returned to the Trollshaws!
 
As dawn rose on the third day, as she was nearing the end of her watch, Tintallë suddenly noticed a large crebain perched on a branch some distance away, seeming watching the camp. As if alerted to her attention, the bird rose into the air and began flying westward. The elf, fearing the bird was a spy, swiftly cast a sleep spell and the bird tumbled from the sky. Running forward through the trees, Tintallë quickly located where the bird had fallen and despatched it.
 
On the morning of the fourth day, the weather turned. Although it was at least dry, it was bitterly cold and there was a hard frost. They turned off the Great East Road heading southwards. Ahead of them, a couple of miles away, they could see an old- hill-fort rising above the mist and could see sheep dotted about the hillside.  Elbragol and Hazard spotted wolf spoor heading the same direction they were. Picking up the pace, they hustled toward the steading; as they did they could see a young lad emerge from the gates and begin distributing feed to the sheep.
 
Suddenly the wolves made their move, five of them leaping out to take down a couple of sheep at the edge of the flock. The young lad dropped his bundle of feed and raising his staff ran towards the wolves shouting.  Hazard and Elbragol drew swords and charged forward, the two elves skidded to a halt and drawing their bows, began to fire at the wolves.
 
Just as Hazard and Elbragol reached the pack, one of the wolves turned and with a snarl leaped at the young shepherd, knocking him to the ground. Elbragol and Hazard began laying into the wolves furiously while the two elves peppered them with arrows. Elbragol was badly bitten in the fray but eventually the wolves were killed. Hazard helped the shepherd lad to his feet and Elbragol bandaged the bite on his arm. The lad introduced himself as Gerd and invited the party to come up to the house and meet his uncle Fuilcwian.

“The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears.”

 As Gerd escorted the party up the winding path that led to the gates of the old hillfort, he chattered excitedly about the confrontation with the wolves - which the party gathered was not an unusual occurrence. Entering the fort, they could see three or four people stop working and look curiously at them. Gerd took them up to the main building which had once been a large roundhouse that had been extended and built on.
 
Standing in the doorway a burly bearded man regarded them impassively. Gerd ran up to him and began explaining excitedly what had happened, after which the man, Fuilcwain, invited them in to his Hall, to break the fast. Over breakfast, somewhat clumsily, the party tried to explain what they were doing. Prompted by Bobbin, they passed themselves off (somewhat accurately) as treasure seekers. Fuilcwain, though open about his father’s colourful past and unpleasant demise, seemed reluctant to be drawn on the subject of any legacy his father might have left. That said though, he invited the party to rest for the day in the warmth of his holding.
 
The party readily accepted. The two rangers spent the morning by the fireside, drying out sodden equipment and drinking mead supplied by Fuilcwain’s wife. Bobbin spent the morning following Gerd around as the lad did his chores, while Elbragol decided to head off to investigate the local flora - seeking useful herbs. Although he seemed somewhat intimidated by the presence of two “elf-lords”, as he insisted on calling them, the two elves accompanied Fuilcwain as he went about his duties. Iflire engaged the homesteader in conversation while Tintallë listened intently - noting that he returned again and again to the subject of the damaging wolf attacks.
 
At midday they stopped for lunch. Over the meal Tintallë, offered the party’s services to hunt down the remaining wolves that were ravaging the flock. Fuilcwain readily accepted and declared that he would be in their debt if they could rid him of the beasts.
 
After lunch they set out – it was hard, slow, work back-tracking the wolves on the frozen ground, but Tintallë and Hazard rose to the challenge  and as the sun began to set they found themselves on the edge of some woodland. With the sunset the temperature plummeted, and they took what shelter they could in the edge of the woods, but it was a cold and uncomfortable night for those not elf-born.
 
Next morning as snow began to fall they continued tracking into the words. Bobbin suddenly spotted something moving through the trees to the south as a large warg padded towards the edge of the woodland – fortunately the wind and the snow masking their scent from it. Martak accompanied by Bobbin, Iflire and Elbragol followed the warg for some time as it purposefully headed northwards across the Great East Road and disappeared into the forest that surrounded Imladris.
 
Heading back to rejoin Tintallë and Hazard, they tracked the warg back through the freshly fallen snow to a clearing on the edge of a hillside. Across the clearing was a tangled thicket of briars and gorse bushes in which Bobbin spotted what looked like an entranceway.
 
After a somewhat nosy debate in the clearing about whether they should enter the thicket or not, Elbragol went off to try and find some dry wood with which they might set afire – unfortunately after three days of rain and now snow much of the deadwood was sodden. Eventually after much debate, and borrowing a dagger from Hazard, Martak crawled into the tangled briars, Bobbin following along behind. On the other side of the thicket was a hollow in the hillside where five wolves lay in a tangled heap. As Martak, tried to edge into the hollow, one of the she-wolves scented the ranger and leaped forward teeth flashing.  Martak desperately tried to defend himself with the dagger, but found himself quickly overwhelmed as her pack-mates joined the attack.
 
Still in the midst of the thicket, Bobbin desperately tried to help his friend, but ultimately as the wolves turned their attention to him the hobbit had to withdraw.
 
The others outside desperately tried to hack through the thicket to get to help – but swords are not the best of tools for hacking through undergrowth. Suddenly they had more pressing problems as two of the young males emerged from the top of the thicket and leaping down the hillside attacked!  The party initially struggled against the ferocity of the wolves attack, Iflire was sorely wounded but fortunately prompt action by Elbragol saved him. Bobbin, still distrauht at the loss of Martak,  fell himself -  mortally injured. Eventually howwever the adventurers  before they got the upper hand - Hazard managing to slay one wolf and Iflire the other two. As they recovered the bodies of the slain, Iflire noted that two sets of wolf-tracks led off through the fresh snow up the hillside – the two she-wolves had escaped!

“The Wargs have come west of the Mountains!"

Somewhat disconsolately, the surviving members of the party began digging graves in the frozen ground for Bobbin and Martak. Hazard took Martak’s sword and swore a mighty oath to bear it in honour in memory of his fallen comrade. Once the impromptu funeral rites were completed, the ranger began taking the pelts from the young wolves while the others dug a shallow pit for the remains. Believing that the she-wolves who had escaped would return they set up camp on the edge of the clearing and the elves maintained a cold vigil through the night.
 
Far to the north, Darowen, a half-elf warrior out of Rivendell and Drukel his Wose companion and tracker - whom he’d taken up with on a trip to the Drúadan Forest in far-off Anorien – came across the tracks in the snow of the warg they had long been seeking for and headed south, arriving at sunset at the hillfort occupied by Fuilcwain and his family. They guested there that night where the shepherd told the visitors of the adventurers and their expeditions rid him of the wolves that plagued the surrounding area. Early the next morning set off for the woods to the south east.
 
In the clearing, after a breakfast of warm porridge and a warming cup of nettle tea prepared by Elbragol, the party set up their ambush for the wolves. Iflire and Tintallë took up position up in the branches of the trees while Hazard and Elbragol hid themselves as best they could in the undergrowth. An hour or so later their patience was rewarded when the warg leading the two she-wolves edged cautiously into the clearing. The   warg sniffed the air – but fortunately what breeze there was, was blowing any scent away. However the warg did pick up the scent from the shallow pit of the wolves they’d killed yesterday   and began pawing at the ground there.
 
Tintallë and Elbragol started preparing spells – sleep and calm spirits respectively - while Iflire began launching flurries of arrows at the warg. Hazard drawing Martak’s blade stepped forth from cover issuing a fearsome challenge to the warg. Elbragol and Tintallë’s spells went off taking both the she-wolves out of the combat as another cluster of arrows from Iflire hit the beast’s flank. The warg howled in rage and charged forward.
 
As another pair of arrows from Iflire slammed into it, Hazard swung his sword, the warg however pounded through his defense - his mighty jaws clashing on the ranger’ helmet. Hazard dropped as if pole-axed. Suddenly, Darowen and Drukel arrived, drawing weapons and charging across the clearing at the warg. As the warg was distracted by it’s new assailants, Elbragol rushed forward from cover to help Hazard. Drukel stabbed at the warg with his knife and Darowen swung her sword in a vicious arc – both blades however failed to hit the beast. As it crouched to attack, Tintallë cast a shockbolt - hitting the creature squarely and killing it instantly. Iflire rushed forward and killed the sleeping she-wolf while the last remaining one fled.
 
While Elbragol looked after the unconscious ranger, the rest of the party took the pelts and set up camp – getting the injured ranger into the warmth. Next morning after a liberal use of healing from magic Elbragol, the ranger was well enough to travel. They set out at an easy pace - heading back to Fuilcwain’s and arriving just before midday.  The shepherd was pleased to see them an hear the news - although the pleasure was tempered by the news of the death of Martak and Bobbin – particularly by Fuilcwain’s young son who had taken to the hobbit. In reward for ridding him of the warg, Fuilcwain gave the party an old key his father had left him. He also told them that his father had spoken of a campthe bandits had used  to the north - near the source of one of the nearby rivers, though he was unsure which one. 

“Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or secret gate”

The party rested that night, enjoying Fuilcwain’s hospitality as they discussed their next move. They finally decided to investigate the bandit camp Fuilcwain had told them of and, from there, the low-road of the Petty-dwarves.   There were two rivers that ran near the hill-fort, one to the west and one to the east. The main trail which led to Dol Cultirith, and thence on to Cameth Brin, ran along the western river, so they decided to explore that first of all. After some further debate however, it was decided to return to the Inn at the Last Bridge to re-supply first.
 
The journey back to the Inn was uneventful, and they were warmly welcomed by the Grumms. That evening they met first with Goldang to trade for herbs and then Falen for general supplies. Hazard also managed to sell the wolf pelts and the little treasure they’d retrieved from Herubar Gular. Turlin the bard showed up in the Inn later. He was most interested in their story – promising to craft a fitting memorial in the form of “The lay of Bobbin the Brave and Martak One-eye”.


Next morning, they set of along the Great East Road once again, stopping-off for a night’s rest at Fuilcwain’s before heading up the trail to the north. The trail followed the river’s course up into a small range of hills. As it neared the hills the river narrowed, it’s flow becoming sluggish with ice. With some difficulty they managed to track it to it’s source. Scouting around the area, Tintallë managed to find traces of an old campsite and from there, an old path heading up the hillside.

They followed the path to a gorse thicket which masked a cave entrance in the hillside. Iflire urged caution as the entrace to the cave showed signs of recent activity and Hazard speculated a bear might have taken residence for the winter. Hazard decided to check his theory out by the simple expedient of chucking stones into the cave - until his efforts were rewarded by a sleepy roar. A half-asleep, and somewhat grumpy, bear came staggering out to the entrance – to be met by a hail of arrows from the elves.   The bear despatched, Elbragol lit a lantern and the party crowded into the small cave. At the back of the cave a stone door was inscribed with dwarven runes – unfortunately no-one in the party spoke khuzdul!

They spent some time trying to puzzle out the opening of the door, until Tintallë’s elven sight spotted a mechanism cunningly hidden in the cave wall. The door was swiftly opened to reveal a spiral stair carved into the living rock running downwards. A the foot of the stairway a long passage disappeared off to the east, it looked like it had originally been carved by the flow of an underground river but the passageway had been worked and smoothed by dwarven hands, though now in places it was in a generally poor condition.
 
They headed eastward for several hours, making their way cautiously through the darkness and keeping to the main route. Ahead of them they spotted a side-chamber on which a crude wooden door had been hung. This room was obviously some kind of way-station and, from the crude repairs and adaptations to some of the furniture, it was clear that the bandits had used this area. In one corner of the room was a wooden chest that was locked and trapped. Elbragol managed to unlock the chest, but all it contained was old food supplies - presumably left as a cache by the bandits. 

"The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places”

After a cold night’s rest in the way-station the party set out once more along the low-road, their way lit dimly by the glow from Elbragol’s lantern. After about four hours or so, the main passageway widened both in width and height – giving some relief to the taller members of the party who had spend the last two days stooped and bent. The walls here were also moist and damp and here and, at the head of the party, Hazard could see loathsome patches of fungus clinging to the walls and as they moved further ahead the passageway was clogged with the foul-looking growths.
 
Hazard brazenly pushed forward, but managed to turn his foot on something and fell sprawling into the fungus-field. As he lay there, clouds of yellow spores floated into the air. Elbragol helped the ranger to his feel and they pushed forward. Tintallë and Iflire followed, heedless of the spores, while Darowen took the precaution of covering his nose and mouth before moving forward. Drukel, more cautious, hung back until the spores had settled and then moved forward cautiously – carefully avoiding disturbing the growths.
Fortunately, although most of the party had a fine coating of yellow dust across their clothing, the spores seemed to have no ill-effect.
 
Pressing on for another few hours, they came to an area where the path seemed to branch. As they paused for a moment, to consider their options, Elbragol and Iflire spotted shapes moving on the roof and walls. A moment later the shapes resolved themselves into large lizards that hissed and launched themselves at the party. Tintallë reacted swiftly, loosing an arrow that transfixed one of the lizards in mid-leap. The others, led by Hazard, engaged the lizards in combat, Elbragol fell wounded and Drukel rushed forward to aid the animist with a healing herb. Moving forward, Darowen killed a second lizard, and Iflire engaged a third. Hazard held the fourth, until it leaped from the wall it’s jaws sinking into the ranger’s neck - there was a horrific cracking sound and gouts of blood began to fountain from the wound.
 
Tintallë loosed another arrow mortally wounding another lizard, while Darowen darted forward and finished off the last. Hazard meanwhile had collapsed to the ground near the now recovered Elbragol, his head at an unnatural angle and the gouts of blood slowing as his heart stopped. The animist leaned over his fallen colleague and swiftly administered a dose of degiik, the herb’s lifekeeping properties stopping the southerner from dying instantly.
 
As Elbragol tended to the badly wounded ranger, Iflire spotted another way station some way up the northern branch of the passage. They carefully moved the fallen ranger into the way-station taking great care to keep his head and nexk secure as Elbragol advised. They settled down to rest while Elbragol tended to te h gravelky wounded ranger. The animist determined he needed some edram to heal the break in the ranger’s neck. Lleaving Hazard in the care of the elves he set out with Drukel and Darowen to find a way to the surface.
 
After exploring the side passageways they found one that led to some abandoned mine-workings – one of which led to an opening in a wooded hillside. To the south they could see a river wending it’s way southward. Elbragol led them to the river and guarded by Darowen he and Drukel began searching for the edram moss. Some hours later them luckily managed to find some and headed back to administer it.
 
After a night’s rest, though Hazard was still somewhat tender, they decided to set off again, this time Iflire leading the way. Unfortunately, the  usually sharp-sighted elf, failied to notice where a landslip had caused the passageway ahead to drop nearly 15 feet. The normally sure-footed elf tumbled over the edge, falling awkwardly - breaking his wrist. The others quickly clambered down to help.

"Their broken bones would lie and tell"

Using some arrows supplied by Darowen, Elbragol managed to splint the broken wrist and after a brief pause to recover, they moved on. It was slow going, with Iflire in great pain, but eventually they made their way to a place where the passageway opened out into a wider gallery, past a still pool in which the dark shapes of fish flitted.

They could hear the distant sounds of rushing water and in front of them a stone bridge stood broken. Where once it had spanned a great chasm, now the middle section was completely missing. In the light of the lantern Darowen could see crudely fashioned rope bridge hung down on the opposite side where a – presumably fashioned by the bandits long ago to bridge the gap.

Leaving the injured Iflire to rest by the pool, tended to by Tintallë, the others tried to work out how to overcome this seeming impasse. Elbragol, had brought a grappling hook, and fastening it to a rope managed to hook it round a stone support on the far side. Drukel volunteered to try and cross. Slipping out of his amour, he fastened another rope round his waist and giving it to Hazard and Darowen to hold as a safety line began edging hand-over-hand across the rope. He had almost made it to the far side when suddenly he lost his grip and fell.

The safety line held by his friends would save him from falling to certain death in the raging torrent below, but it also had the consequence of slamming him towards the wall of the chasm. Reflexively, he stuck out his leg to try and slow himself, but his leg-bone sheared at the impact – breaking cleanly at the thigh.

His friends, quickly hauled him up and Elbragol tended to the broken leg. Iflire, despite the discomfort of his own broken wrist, fashioned a splint from some of the surplus 10ft poles they’d bought at a discount from Falen.

Elbragol decided that he would have to obtain some more edram, else they would be laid up for weeks. Accompanied by Hazard he began exploring nearby passages, finding one the led up to the surface in a gentle incline. The door at the end of this passageway was long gone, however it quickly became apparent that the cave in which the passageway ended had an even more unpleasant resident than the bear they had encountered several days ago. The cave reeked of the unmistakable stench of troll!

Fortunately, despite the smell, the cave was empty. It was just after dusk and the troll had presumably gone out to hunt – they could see massive footprints leading off down the hillside in the deep snow. Trying not to leave any track Hazard suggested they step in the trolls footsteps until they were a fair distance from the cave.

 After leaving the troll’s path they headed to the river, spending a couple of hours before they located sufficient edram moss for their needs. They returned to their colleagues and Elbragol administered the healing moss to his friends.

Once recovered, Drukel decided to try again, this time with the added safety net, of a loop of rope around his foot to help support his weight. Unfortunately barely had the wose started inching across when disaster struck once more. The recently mended bone had obviously weakened the leg and his ankle turned with a sickening crack in the loop of rope! Fortunately Iflire was near enough to help pull him back!

This time, while Elbragol got out the edram again, the elf decided to try himself. Cautiously he made his was across the taut rope – this time without incident! Using the grappling hook, they managed to pull the rope bridge back into position and fasten it into place! With the rope bridge back in place, they crossed easily and continued on their journey.

 The next day’s travel was uneventful, but as they rested that night in one of the way-stations, Darowen found a faded old sign. He was unfamiliar with the form of kuzdul, but he was able to puzzle out that they were only eight miles from some kind of landmark, so next morning they set off eagerly,Passing through some major mine-workings, the landmark turned out to be a series of building caved out of the rock in a huge cave. As they approached however they discovered the building had guardians as five petty-dwarf skeletons emerged from the darkness to confront them. The undead proved little challenge to the party and soon were little more than scattered piles of bones!

"Foul creatures of spider form had dwelt there"

As the others stood guard in the cavern, Elbragol and Darowen searched the room the skeletons had come from. There they found the remains of a camp – much more recent than the traces of the bandits they’d found earlier. Elbragol also found a note, which Tintallë identified as written in Black Speech, which implied that there were plans afoot to use the cavern as a staging area for an attack on Rivendell.
 
Iflire heard a sound - like the scraping of bones on rock - and noticed that noticed that the bones of the skeletons, animated by dark sorceries, were trying to reassemble themselves, so he began scattering the bones about the cavern - drop-kicking the skulls into the farthest  dark recesses.   Meanwhile, Hazard searched some of the other buildings; finding  stores and supplie had been placed there - enough for a small army.
 
Leaving the huge cavern they continued along the low-road toil abruptly they came to an area where the ceiling had collapsed completely blocking the way. The area around the collapse was unfortunately infested by large spiders, seeking shelter from the extreme cold above. In the brief fight against the spiders, both Tintallë and Darowen were poisoned by the spiders’ bites, but both made full recoveries after a few hours paralysed. While they waited from their friends to recover, Drukel and Hazard searched the area and found the desiccated corpses of two orcs and a Hillman - all cocooned in webs. The Hillman had a fine dagger belted to his waist - which Drukel claimed - and a curious silver ring, marked with a stylised eye, on his right hand.
 
Once Darowen and Tintallë had recovered sufficently, Drukel climbed the walls of the cave up through the hole in the ceiling. Dropping a rope he helped the others up one by one, though Iflire sconed the rope and scampered up the cave walls. Looking around they could see they were at the northern edge of the forest – some miles away to the north they could see an escarpment – presumably the "fells" spoken of in the rhyme.

"As the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night"

As they looked around their surroundings - moor stretching for miles before the escarpment to the north, Iflire suddenly spotted a mound of snow near the edge of the forest to the south. Further investigation revealed it was a cart with a broken wheel that had been abandoned there. There was dried blood on the seat and gouges of arrows  on the bodywork. As the others moved to investigate the elf speculated that the bandits were ambushing wagons on the Great East Road and stealing the goods to store as supplies in the abandoned settlement below.

After a brief respite, they headed off across the snowy moor. The going was difficult due to the snow the had to plough through, but following Hazard's lead the kept a brisk pace. That evening, they settled down to camp at dusk. As Tintallë used the wand of Heat Solid to provide some much needed warmth, Elbragol thought he heard the distant sound of birdsong and commented on Cigfa's rhyme's reference to "the bird's tell". On watch that night Iflire thought he spotted firelight near the edge of the escarpment.

longfell012 Next morning they set off again, once more hearing the distant and curiously muffled birdsong. Eventually towards the end of that day they sought shelter in a copse near the foot of the escarpment. As disk fell, again the sound of birdsong. Quickly they all tried to place the location, Hazard an Iflire marking the general area by a jagged fault-line that scarred the escarpment cliff. Relying on Drukel and the two elves excellent night vision, they decamped to another small clump of trees nearer what they hoped was their destination. Again that night on the watch the light of a campfire was spotted about a mile or so to the east.

Next morning, as the sun rose they could see that the jagged fault-line was in fact a narrow stairway carved into the cliff-face zig-zagging it's way up to the top of the escarpment. It disappeared into a mass of vegetation at the foot of the cliff some 20 yards away from where they'd camped.

Hazard and Drukel quickly cleared some vegetation revealing a jagged crevice some six feet wide at the foot of the cliff that had been hidden. The stairway descended down into the depths, and  Drukel could see ultimately led to a sandy area below. The sound of birdsong was now clear and bright - and they could see a flock of loons flitting about in the half-light below.

Elbragol and Iflire lashed together the remaining ten-foot poles creating a narrow and somewhat rickety bridge across the crevice. One by one, Elbragol, Tintallë and Darowen  made their way safely to the far side, Hazard however mis-stepped and with a cry tumbled into the darkness  - taking the "bridge" with him.

Startled the flock of loons rose into the air flitting about and calling loudly in panic. As Drukel steeled himself for a perilous leap across the crevice, the others made their way with what little haste they could down the treacherous stairway to see if Hazard had survived the fall. Above them, Drukel made the leap safely.

As Elbragol neared the bottom of the stairway, he suddenly felt one of the steps give slightly under his foot. Before he could react, a hidden panel in the side of the cliff dropped suddenly and a vicious-looking forest of spikes thrust out across the lower seven stairs. The animist was hit by two of the spikes , one hitting him square in the head and he collapsed pole-axed.

“This thing all things devours”

 Ignoring the pain in his broken shoulder, Hazard got to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he managed to light a torch. Elbragol lay a few feet from him, blood pouring from an horrific head wound. Darowen leaped down from the Fell Stair, avoiding the steps that Elbragol had triggered the trap on. Between them he and Hazard rifled through Elbragol’s herb pouch, administering herbs blindly in the hope that one of them might save their comrade’s life.
 
Tintallë made her way back up the stairs and took up a guard position, covering up the entrance they’d cleared with brushwood and foliage to mask it from the bandits. Meanwhile, Drukel made his way down the treacherous stairway to join Iflire. By the time they jumped down to join the others, Hazard’s ministrations were having some effect and somewhat groggily, Elbragol was getting to his feet. Accompanied by the haunting cries of the loons overhead, they began to explore the area. They appeared to be on the shores of a huge underground lake in the centre of which a solitary island stood. Drukel noticed that the bones of several animals – presumably that had fallen through the entrance above – were scattered about near the shore. A closer examination revealed that some of the remains had been dragged to the waterside – the wose warned the others that some large beast lurked in the dark waters.
 
They presumed that the island was where they needed to go, however, there appeared to be no other way to get to the island other than swimming. However the threat of whatever lurked beneath made them reluctant to dive into the icy water. Swiftly they hatched a plan to lure the beast out. Darowen and along with Hazard took up a position near the shore and began beating the blade of his sword against his shield. Iflire took up a stance nearby, nocking an arrow. As Elbragol readied a spell, Drukel began tossing stones into the water. Suddenly a huge beast – which Hazard recognised as a crocodile – launched itself out of the water at them. Elbragol cast Calm Spirits, causing the great beast to stand passively for a minute. The others took advantage to launch their attack. The crocodile roared as the attacks hit home. Hazard suddenly leaped forward and with a mighty blow stuck deep at the beasts’ vitals - with a roar the great beast slumped instantly dead, half-in and half-out of the red-stained water.
 
vault Now the beast was dealt with, they party began stripping off for the swim across to the island, Drukel didn’t bother and dived into the icy water fully clothed and armoured. Iflire remained behind and began gathering driftwood for a fire – feeling they would need warming when retuning from the icy swim. As he did so he noted that the carcass hadn’t sunk. On investigation he discovered there was a causeway about six inches under the water! Over on the island they discovered a low vault which a stairway led down to. At the end of the stairway a large steel door blocked any further exploration. There was a single keyhole in the centre of the doorway. Elbragol suddenly remembered the key that they had obtained from Fuilcwain – unfortunately they key was with Tintallë back above ground. A message was passed back through Iflire and the key duly retrieved – Iflire walking it across the causeway.
 
The key fitted the lock and the door opened easily, to reveal a spiral stair leading downward. The stair led to an underground chamber at the far end of which was another vault door. They crowded into the room and opened the door to reveal a vault strewn with treasure. Unfortunately opening the door also triggered a trap and water began flooding into the chamber. Frantically they began grabbing what they could from the hoard – Elbragol making sure she recovered the Kine Horn. They managed to get up the stairway, the water lapping at their heels, to discover Iflire desperately trying to stop the outer door closing and locking them in.
 
They returned to the far shore – across the causeway this time, to be met by Tintallë, informing them the bandits were moving about in the woods close to the entrance. They would need to find another way out or face a battle against unknown numbers! After discussion they decided that there must be entrance to the Low Road somewhere. Drukel swam to the far shore, and found it. The others made their way across and they returned to the familiar route. After resting in one of the way-stations they made thrir way out through one of the hidden exits. Before returning to the Inn at the Last Bridge, to give the Kine Horn to Cigfa,  they swung by Rivendell to warn them of Ar Gular’s plot. They were warmly received by Glorfindel, who offered them gifts of healing herbs in return for their warning.