[As always, thanks to Eadirin for this RP! Dice rolls made for a fun, immersive encounter at the Watchtower. Join us in Dunland, Sundays 10AM, Laurelin]
At dawn, as promised, the elves leave the Dunlending village of Lhan Tarren. The wildmen have spoken of a trade route passing through Lhan Tarren to Galtrev, farther south, and this seems a promising lead for investigating the connection between Southfarthing pipeweed and the unrest among the tribes of Dunland and Enedwaith.
The highest point nearby lies just southeast of the road — a watchtower from which the elves hope to survey the land. A trail of campfires reveals the presence of others, more Edain, but soon it becomes clear that not all is well.
Corpses litter the slope — people of the Stag Clan. As dusk descends, Eadirin and Finnehas approach the watchtower cautiously, suspecting that a more hostile clan has claimed the vantage point for itself.
The perimeter wall is easily vaulted, and the elves reach the foot of the watchtower unseen.
A lone Dunlending stands guard at its entrance, and, judging from the thin line of defence around the wall and the silence within the watchtower, the enemy clan numbers only a few.
Eadirin tackles the man, dazing him with a glancing blow from the pommel of Nimfuin, his blade. While he holds the man face down in the muddy ground, Finnehas manages to gag and truss their opponent with strips of leather. The elves silently push open the wooden door to the tower. Flickering torches sit in sconces along the crude stone walls, dimly lighting a spiral staircase. Eadirin quickly climbs up the stairs. The emptiness of the building is almost haunting, but he reaches the top in the end. Looking around, he notices a wide settlement with many smoking chimneys. ''I think we have found it. To the south-east.'' Finnehas reaches the top soon after Eadirin. The countryside to the south is lit by small campfires. Following Eadirin's direction of pointing, Finnehas can make out a much larger cluster of smoke and light. Galtrev.
They are on their way before the wildmen discover them, and the rest of the journey goes quickly ...
... so that before dawn they arrive at the gates of Galtrev.
A hub for many Dunlending clans, the town seems occupied in industry, the residents making spearheads and hafts beside stockpiles of lumber, smiths forging axes and blades beside crude furnaces. They throw curious glances at the elves but appear to regard them as nothing more suspicious than Men of the North, disliked but tolerated with a grudging respect. Finnehas' discreet inquiries reveal that merchant caravans pass through Galtrev frequently, bringing produce from as far north as the Shire, and taking all manner of supplies and weapons south — but where, and for what reason?
finnehas / Oct 05, 2017