Situational Assessment
The sun had been up for a short time as the small party pulled up at the edge of the valley forming the mouth of the pass. Huthorin spoke, pointing up into the pass, "Lords, though you can't see clearly from here, at the top of that first hill is where we found the tunnel. Up on top on the other side is where the fireballs came from. The giants were there, across the valley on the slopes of that peak." he said, pointing. "The Orcs came from the pass itself." he finished.
"We must use all caution." stated Valandil. Elrond spoke up, "I suggest we split up, two to the top of the pass to investigate the area the fireballs came from, the others to the pass and tunnel."
"Good council." Valandil replied. "I shall investigate the top." he said. "I will accompany you." Dournil added. "Then I shall lead to the tunnels, shall we meet here by the time the sun stands at the noon?" asked Huthorin. "Aye" from Valandil. Let us not waste the sun! I feel a sense of urgency to answer as many questions as may be quickly answered!" Valandil and Dournil pulled their horses to the right. The others began their descent into the valley. Valandil and Dournil rode along the crest of the valley, they could see the others riding across the valley floor.
Soon they could see their route up on to the South side of the pass. The valley whose crest they rode on turned in at an angle, then began to drop into the pass itself. At the widest point they turned into the reverse slope of the valley, dropping off the crest. They crossed a shallow vale, the other side of which, the first of the peaks. Now the ground rose steeply and began to turn from the short green grass of spring to more and more shale and up thrusting rocks. The loose shale was proving more and more difficult for the horses to climb, slipping at times from beneath their hooves. Finally they stopped and dismounted, ahead a small bay formed by large fingers of stone seemed a well sheltered place to leave the horses.
"Distances here are misleading to the eye." Dournil observed, finishing with his horses hobbles and straightening up to walk to the bay's opening. Valandil joined him there. They looked out over a broad range before them. From here they were much higher than the valley crest where the party had split up. They could no longer see the others as they'd entered into the pass and had passed behind the swiftly climbing landscape. But the view was breath taking just the same. Dournil was checking their back trail, by long habit. Valandil turned to the climb before them. His boots crunched loose stone as he began to climb. Dournil stopped him with a quiet word. "Valandil."
Valandil returned to his side immediately, sliding in the loose scree and bumping shoulders in his hurry. He knew that tone of voice too well! "The bottom of the vale we crossed, halfway back." Said Dournil, tossing his chin to indicate direction. "I see!" Was Valandil's worried reply. "Looks like maybe four?" Dournil watched another moment. "I'd say more like six or seven ...Orcs. Definitely on foot."
"As you say." Valandil squinted. "Looks like they're trying to follow, but are losing our trail. The distant figures seemed to cast about for a short time, then headed off South. He watched them disappear over the crest into the next valley South.
They looked at each other apprehensively. "They'll find our trail again given time." Stated Dournil. "Then we must be about our work and quickly, as to deny them enough time!" Was Valandil's rejoinder. He spun to the slope and began the climb to the next obstacle, far above. A sheer looking cliff, he eyed it apprehensively.
Valandil and Dournil pulled their horses away, along the crest of the valley. Elrond watched them go, as they began their descent. He knew that Dournil was sharp and dependable as well as experienced in battle, Valandil should be in trustworthy hands. Huthorin caught his attention with a quiet clearing of his throat. " Shall we, Lords?". Huthorin remembered this same ground from a week ago, the fear and running from Orcs and trolls. He scanned the landscape again, nothing. This open country made him very nervous. A flash on the Valley's crest to his right caught his attention, he turned to look, he could see Valandil and Dournil, little more than specks, the flash had seemed to come from further back along the crest. Possibly from a hillside farther away through the trees. He didn't see any other sign or movement.
Elrond saw the flash, also. Even his elvish sight saw nothing in that area. He did see the riders further along. It could have been dew, he surmised, experience dictated otherwise. They were entering the pass now. He'd deal with 'flashes' later, when they stopped. He wasn't eager to be jumping at shadows. Elrond considered calling a halt, after all he held a ring of power, he could try to warn Dournil, but he hadn't seen anything behind them. Scowling as he rode, he decided to just keep alert. (Stopping in a wide open valley with possible enemies about was less than idea!)
They were well into the pass, between the first to peaks. Large boulders and slabs littered the quickly rising slope of the trail, loose rock shards and timbers, some pieces lashed together still, lay about. Huthorin raised his hand to call a halt. Indicating direction with a gesture of his head. "From here it is best to go on foot." They began to dismount.
"My Lords." Gandemere said. I mislike this situation, if no one is of other mind, I will hie me up the pass to scout the terrain."
"Well thought, Captain, we shall await you, at the tunnels." Said Elrond. "I will not tarry." replied Gandemere. He wove his way up the pass and out of sight. Echoes of his chestnut mare's steel shod hooves following more slowly.
The others hobbled their animals, and followed Huthorin though the rocks. Elrond's mind idled for a moment on the story of Gandemere's mare. Named Myras, after a legendary folk tale Meras mare. Stories told around campfires and winter hearths told of her exploits assisting women and children in times of great danger and need. Songs had been written as well as poetry. Children were told to call upon her during nightmares, to bear them away from danger, or show the way home.
Myras, Myras,
Whence do you come?
Away to the plains have you run,
Myras, Myras,
Bend back the tall grass,
racing the wind you have won,
Myras, Myras,
We give thanks to 'The One',
The meek are in need, well are you come!
Gandemere's mare was, in truth, said to be a very devil in battle. He'd learned to braid small silver cones in her tail. Many were the number of Sauron's foul minions that had felt the lash of her tail, bite of her teeth and strike of her hoof! Apparently she didn't care for the odour of Orc! Gandemere doted on her. That, Elrond had seen for himself! Many stories and jokes were told by the Elves of Rivendell.
They approached the Northern slope, stepped around the final outcropping and beheld the opening before them. Higher, the air had become chilly, the effort of the climb served to keep Valandil warm. Glad that he'd brought a light cloak, he'd wrapped up in it. They'd stopped where the slope ran into a vertical rock face. To the left a shoulder width ledge ran around the wall and out of sight. That was only one way to go. Valandil led off stepping carefully, crabwise, sideways. The pommel of his long sword scraping the wall throwing him slightly off balance. Dournil let him get three steps ahead, then slid out after him. Valandil didn't look down as the trail cleared the lower slope, giving him the impression that he floated in air. Sudden vertigo threatened to cause him a misstep, he came to a halt, took a deep steadying breath, then continued.
Dournil had the same balance problem. With his long bow, over his shoulder, scraping the wall behind him. Wood needed more care against the rock. Valandil did look out, instead of down, they were now facing North, directly over the pass, looking across the valley between the opposing snow capped peaks. Breathtaking didn't describe the wide vista before them.
Though one couldn't see the ground directly below, the wide valley, cut by a meandering stream or small river easily held the attention. Spring grass and profuse wildflowers wove in the breeze like water on an ocean. The peaks on the far or North side rose to snow capped glory, while timber spread about their feet. The crabbing continued. The trail began to come back into another, inner slope and widen. Here one could see that this was the very beginning of the pass. A trail, indistinct from their height, cut North, crossing the stream, turned back East and wove out of sight down the valley. A series of peaks down the valley stood shoulder to shoulder blocking in the Eastern portion of the pass.
Back on solid ground, Valandil and Dournil exchanged glances then looked back along the trail. I wouldn't want to try hurrying on that!" Valandil said.
"Say you not!" grinned Dournil in return. He gestured ahead. With a glance in the direction of the sun, "Time grows upon us, it is time to hurry." Valandil led off, again.
They topped the next section of curving slope, and came out on a broad flat area, that ran parallel to the pass below. Several war machines sat before them, some were damaged. A few large rocks lay about, twice the size of a man's head. From the rear of the Plateau rose a forest of up thrusting rocks, from stump size to higher than two men's heads. Scattered gear lay about. Orc gear mostly. Arbalests, capable of throwing a huge bolt a great distance and catapults, for throwing rocks, sat untended. Rummaging through the gear, Valandil came up with a large skin of some stinking black liquid. Hefting the skin, Valandil smiled at Dournil a few rods away, kicking through other gear.
"It would not be a good thing to leave these machines in working order. Anyone who could command them would have control of the pass." stated Valandil, mischeif twinkling in his eyes. Dournil approached, taking the skin and removing the stopper.
Pouring some of the liquid on the stone at his feet, and examining it with finger tips and nose, Dournil said. "I believe this is what was used to cause the flames the Dwarf reported." Looking at the wooden timbers of the nearby machines, he continued. "The wind here blows West, into this end of the pass." His mind changed paths "Think you, who brought these timbers all this way, at great expense of labour just left them here unguarded, and assembled?"
"It does seem a bit unlikely. Yet can we leave them unharmed?" Asked Valandil. Dournil replied "Nay. That we canst if at whiles we may not." Valandil considered, looking about, crossing to the edge and leaning out as far as he dared, looking down into the pass, finally coming to a decision. "Might we see how many might burn with the liquid, and cut the main bindings on the others, rolling what timbers we can over the edge. Then might we light the liquid and retreat?" Asked Valandil. He waited for his mentors assessment of his plan.
"Aye, that is sound. Also, I think a fuller look around is in order." Said Dournil. I'll go to the farthest end and work back thru the rocks behind and join you. Will you cut lashings and prepare the machines?" Asked Dournil.
"It will be done." was Valandil's answer. Dournil walked toward the far end of the plateau. Drawing his eket, Valandil went to work on the lashings of several of the machines. It occurred to Valandil, as he worked, that if any of the guards of these machines were around, they'd come at a run when they saw or smelled smoke. (We'd better fire them as we leave this area.) he thought to himself. Dournil wasn't back, so he began pushing timbers over the edge. They bounced and knocked their way down out of sight. Then began to splash the remaining machines with oil. Still he wasn't back, time was growing short, if they wanted to make their rendevous with Elrond and the others. He gathered kindling and used his striker to light a small fire in the lee of a large rock. As he added fuel and blew on it, he heard rock grating behind him a ways, he turned to Dournil. " Dournil, I..." And stopped in mid sentence. Bent over the fire, he was in a bad position to defend himself. Facing him was a huge Rock troll.
Dournil reached the end of the plateau, and surveyed the area. Another spot farther on up the pass held several more machines. Dark figures moved about, to his sharp eyes, they looked like Orcs and Rock Trolls. He quickly ducked out of sight. He couldn't look down in to the pass, now, and wasn't worried about it. He began to make his way back, through the rocks , using them as cover. In the rocks at the back of the plateau, he saw a broad path that led from the next flat spot, where the Orcs and Trolls were, to the one he was on.
He started to move but stopped and dropped at the sound of steps. In front of him, between himself and where he'd left Valandil came a Rock Troll. Black, with the least amount of clothing, an open fur vest and knee length breeches with a heavy type of boot on it's feet. It's huge hammer slung on it's shoulder. It stopped and turned, looking over it's shoulder and spoke in it's own language to another, coming behind. Rock Troll was one tongue he didn't speak. Silently he swung his bow off his shoulder, but didn't draw an arrow from his quiver, yet. The knocking, bouncing sound of timbers falling into the pass below, came from the area where Valandil was. (This is bad, they'll kill us both!) he thought to himself. He would try to draw them off, and circle back to Valandil.
The two Trolls stepped forward, he noted the second wore no boots. Perhaps he might use that. Smoothly unslinging their great, square-headed, stone hammers, they went in to a crouch, and began to stalk forward. He rose to begin his own stalk, but as he passed the head of the trail, movement caught in the corner of his eye. A glance showed another troll running up the path, hammer raised, quick as thought, in one smooth motion, he drew forth an arrow, nocked it to the string, drew back to his anchor point and released his breath and string simultaneously.
A clenched fist and low exclamation from Dournil accompanied the results of the arrow's strike. It seemed to blossom from the trolls throat, a fine shot at distance. The call from the falling troll, cut off mid way, brought reaction from the two in front of him. They whirled around as one, saw him immediately, as he was standing in the open and charged, raising their hammers and letting loose a torrent of speech. "Time to Run! And run fast!" The fleet elf drew ahead of the trolls in the large, up thrusting rocks and poor footing. They stopped, then began to talk and nod back and forth. One began following him again, the other turned away, back toward the path and Valandil.
Elrond and Huthorin stared at the opening. It was obviously an opening at one time. It was blocked. Now a huge boulder sat in it. Huthorin and Elrond exchanged glances. "Someone wanted it closed. Perhaps it will shift with a lever. I shall attempt to search one out." offered Huthorin."We have some little time." Elrond agreed. "I must try to reach out to Dournil." "To warn them of possible enemies on their back trail?" asked Huthorin."Yes, of course." was Elrond's simple reply.
"Then I shall leave you to it." said Huthorin abruptly. He turned and walked away. Elrond smiled to himself. (If one wasn't used to Dwarf folk, one may possibly misconstrue their actions as rude, at times.) Elrond sat in a half hidden, out of the way place. Sitting cross legged he cleared his mind. Concentrating on his ring, Vilya the blue, he began to seek out the mind of Dournil.
Huthorin walked back down the trail searching for a long log to use as a lever. (What could be hidden in the tunnels? Where do they lead? There must be something, or they wouldn't bother blocking them up.) Huthorin's mind occupied itself as he searched. After going so far, he finally gave up and turned back. A distant, hollow, knocking echo, came from up the pass. He shaded his eyes, looking up to the south. Nothing to see. Puzzled, he kept going back toward the tunnel. It sounded like logs falling? Perhaps Valandil and Dournil had found something after all.
Elrond found a mental whiff of Dournil's mind, through use of his ring. He couldn't seem to make any impression, as if his complete attention was focused on something else. That could indicate trouble of some kind. He swam up out of his self imposed daze to the sound of logs falling farther up the pass. Dournil and Valandil must have found something. The fact that he couldn't break into Dournil's attention worried him, though. It was time to find Huthorin and Gandemere. He rose to follow Huthorin.
Gandemere neared the top of the pass, the path was very narrow, very steep. He'd had to leave his horse a ways back. He'd been thru here a couple of times in the past, so he knew "Top" was an illusion. The actual top was several leagues away, the trail rose over the foot of this peak, then dropped into a valley. In the valley, it turned north, crossing a small river, and skirting the next peak's feet. Then turned back south, skirting another peak. And started rising and going up the next, which was the highest part. The interior valley sprawled below him. "Quite beautiful." He muttered into his long, bushy moustaches. He took in the far distances as he stopped with most of his body out of sight, below the crest. Timber rose up to the feet of some of the peaks along the pass. The lowest spots hosted a swift river, sparkling and winding in the sun. Green grass rolled away, suffused with wild flowers. A few more feet and he'd see nearer on the other side of the crest.
He smelled smoke as he saw what lay below. "Orc camp!" He turned and ran. A distant clamour came over the hill behind him. He'd been seen! He wasn't halfway back to his horse when they came over the hill. He glanced back to see Orcs and half men jam shoulder to shoulder momentarily in the bottleneck at the crest. More piled up behind until the plug popped loose. Orc's rolled, cursing and shouting. Some came up on their feet running. Others still lay about, while those behind pushed forward. The unfortunates that lay in the trail were stomped over.
"Bloody boobies!" Gandemere was laughing as he fled. He even turned to call."Hah!" This inflamed the Orc's still more. He wasn't worried about being caught. He'd grab his horse and be down to Elrond an Huthorin, collect them and get back to the western end of the valley long before those Orcs could catch up. "It wouldn't be funny if they catch me, though." He thought to himself. He concentrated on his footing.
Elrond met Huthorin coming back up the pass. "A problem?" Asked Huthorin. Nothing I can be sure of." Elrond replied uneasily. I tried to reach Dournil's mind, so to set a thought to their back trail. His attention was completely absorbed by something else." "Is this unusual?" Huthorin asked again. "I mean that you had a problem mind speaking?" "It's not really mind speaking, more like planting a seed, but yes, for the planted seed usually springs to life. One knows when that is successful." Replied Elrond. They turned back towards the opening as they spoke. "Aye! Verily!" Elrond continued worriedly. My people's mind's harbour great spans of attentions! It could signify trouble." Elrond went on. "Heard you the falling from up in the pass? Sounded like logs to my ears".
"Aye, in truth! perhaps Captain Gandemere will have some report, Also." came Huthorin's answer. "Alas, no levers are to be found readily. Mayhap main strength might be the answer." "We will try it that way, then." Answered Elrond. The two reached the opening once again. Both put their backs against the boulder and it moved slightly, but rolled back farther. They tried again and again. After several tries, they'd manage to move it a small amount.
Gandemere was close to his horse now, limping and losing ground to the horde behind him. He'd stepped on a rock and turned his ankle, skidding onto his knee. "Who's the booby now?" He asked himself, more angry at himself than anything else. Myras was in sight now, looking his direction, ears up and alert. Deftly whipping the reins out from under a rock he'd jammed into a small cleft, he grasped the saddle horn and swung up. Arrows were falling around him, as he wheeled the animal about. He had to go slowly at this point, the trail was steep for a horse, and easy to slip on.
When they were with in spear range, spears began to fall around him. From over head came a great knocking and crashing as timbers and rock came hurtling down the southern cliff face. Falling between he and his pursuers, a few moments later more came down, closer to him. He kicked his chestnut into a slow canter.
"By the One! Iluvatar's Children! Saved from my own foolishness by a gift from the God!" Gandemere remarked in no little excitement. Ahead the pass opened up, he took full advantage, spurring forward. Even so it still took several minutes to get back to the tunnel area.