Dunharrow

[~Theodred]

An eored of Riders rode steadily on the road from Edoras. Their horses caused a great stir of dust as their hooves thundered up the mountainous road. To their right, the River Snowbourn's blue water flowed swiftly down the slopes, out of the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains. The riders had already passed through Harrowdale, and were approching the steep passage leading to Dunharrow, their destination. Their horses were shining with sweat, as they climbed the curving passage. At each turn, a strange statue greeted them, the pukel-men, they were called, and they were to have been there for two ages. Looming ahead were the twin peaks: Starkhorn and Irensaga, in which Dunharrow was wedged between. After two miles of climbing the path, they came to the gates of the city of Dunharrow.

Dunharrow had been there, since before the Ride of Eorl, since before Minas Anor had changed it's name to Minas Tirith, and since before The Realms in Exile were founded. There were only legends about how they came to be, no factual history. The gates of Dunharrow were relatively new, built only within the last decade. They were wrought of mighty steel, and stood twenty feet high. Before the gates were two guards, both wearing grey cloaks. Upon their heads were great Helm's, and their sky-blue eyes were shadowed by them. Their long blond hair flowed out of the back of their helm's, blowing back in the wind. under their cloaks were tough metal hauberks.

The taller of the two guards spoke first: "Who is the leader of this party, and what is your business in the city of Dunharrow?"

A tall rider at the head of the eored stepped forth. He looked in a way exactly like the guard who had spoken up, only his face was younger.

"You do not recognize me brother" he asked.

The expressionless face of the guard lit up. "Deowine, what a surprize! What are you doing here?"

"Secret business, Gleoden" said Deowine, now smiling. "I am afraid I can not tell you." He handed Gleoden a letter with Eomer's seal on it.

"Well, suit yourself" said the guard, Gleoden, who quickly scanned the letter. "When you are done with your <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> business<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, and I am off duty, we can talk like old times! Say, among you is not only the casual Rohirrim" said Gleoden, "what do we have here?"...

[~Steadfast Sam]

A small figure, sitting on a pony that was gasping for air, smiled and rode forward. He quickly dismounted, and to the amusement of the two guards, walked forward and bowed low. He was barely as tall as their waist, but he was armed with a small dagger and looked to be a full grown, though small, man. "Samwise Brandybuck, at your service." he said. "I am known at Edoras as the King's Halfling, thought some prefer Half-Man."

Gleoden chuckled and said, "I thought for a minute you had brought a child with you, Deowine! I had heard of the holbytlan, but have never seen one."

Deowine laughed in return, but then turned to his friend once again. "Our business is urgent, but we must rest. Open the gates, for we have ridden far today." Gleoden turned to his companion, and they both pulled open the city's gates. The eored, led by Deowine entered the city, in search of lodgings...

[Irid alMenie]

As the party moved on, one of the riders, Rhalia, was looking sharply around. This was the first time she came to Dunharrow. It was a nice city, though (in her opinion) not as nice as Edoras.

Apparently now they were looking for lodgings. This being her first time here, she didn't know where that would be, but she let that be decided by the leaders.

[~Theodred]

Deowine looked around the stone houses and sought out a stable, where he could keep the horses. The city of Dunharrow had grown, marvelously developed since the War of the Ring. Instead of pavillions, there were now houses, instead of scarce population, there was many people. He spotted a stable, at the edge of the town, and dismounted, leading his horse along. The rest of the eored did likewise, and soon, the street was crowded with horses and riders. They entered the stable, and made sure all of their horses were settled, then, left the stables, and headed to the Firienfeld. Out of the hold of Dunharrow. They would pitch their tents there for the night...

[~Steadfast Sam]

Samwise sat at the edge of the camp, slowly smoking his pipe. His camp companions insisted that the smoke stung their eyes, so he always had to find a quiet place to be alone and smoke. A passerby stopped, and stared curiously at him. He smiled quietly and waved. The figure waved back, and then kept walking. Sam blew a ring, and pondered what Eomer had said. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Make sure he comes to no harm! He is brave, and strong, but foolhardy at times. He father was a close friend, and I do not want him to get into any more trouble than necessary. <!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Sam grinned again as he stood to return to his tent. Another person had stopped, and was gawking at his height. These Big People could be funny, sometimes.

[~Theodred]

"Enjoying yourself, Master Holbytla?" said a familiar voice behind him. Deowine walked over to Samwise and sat down. Unlike the other Rohirrim, Deowine did not mind the hobbit's smoking, he more of rather enjoyed it. They both sat at the fringe of the camp for a while, neither of them saying a word. Finally, Deowine spoke, and his pleasant voice had turned grim.
"Are you ready to hear the details of our mission, friend" Deowine said barely audiblely. "If you are ready, I shall tell you..."

[~Steadfast Sam]

The hobbit, though now standing, stood about as tall as the man sitting. He caught the strange tone in the man's voice, full of foreboding, almost a grim resignation to the unknown. Ha sat down beside the tall man and didn't answer for a moment. After a pause, he replied quietly.

"I sense in your voice that this mission will not be a pleasant one. But I am honored by your trust in me. Continue, by all means."

[Irid alMenie]

Rhalia didn't really know what to do, so she wandered a bit through the camp. When she heard voices, she crept closer, unseen. She saw the Hobbit and Deowine, and the man just said he would talk about the mission. Rhalia stood still and listened.

[~Theodred]

Deowine paused again, as the solemn mood sank in. Then, slowly he began.
"Only a month ago, the long peace that has reigned since the War of the Ring, has ended. The Easterlings dwelling east of Rhun, who have not been troublesome for a score of years, have assailed Dorwinion. They had a large army in the attack, and once again, they came in on wains. News of the fighting to the east came quickly to King Elessar, and the King took his mighty army, and went off to battle them. Lord Faramir went with him, and his young son Eldarion as well. The King said King Eomer's army was not needed, and Rohan should stay at peace. Gondor still had a strong armed force under Prince Imrahil, who remained behind to guard Gondor.

But just last week, the Haradrim broke the peace as well, and attacked the haven of Pelargir with a sizeable force. Something else seemed to have helped them as well, because the city of Pelargir is now under siege. There are rumours that the Corsairs of Umbar have arisen again. The city was not ready for a siege, and the force assailing it is great, they will not hold out long. Prince Imrahil rode to Minas Tirith to summon a force to drive the enemy from Pelargir. Gondor now needed help from the Rohirrim. Prince Imrahil and King Eomer are good friends, as you know, Imrahil's daughter Lothiriel is Eomer's wife. Imrahil wrote a message himself, asking the Rohirrim to come to the aid of Gondor.

We received that message two days ago at Edoras. A message rider name Berethorn brought it to us, and he came with the Red Arrow. King Eomer began to organize his forces immediately. Imrahil's would not be ready for three days, and Eomer's would not be ready for four. Someone was needed to help even the odds at Pelargir, someone to hold off the Southrons till the other armies arrived. That person was me. I am high in the King's favor, and he can trust me to carry out this important errand. He told me to gather my eored, and be the forerunners for the armies of the United Realms and Rohan. He wants my brave eored, to travel the Paths of the Dead."

Deowine paused to let his message sink in. When he had muttered the last words, Samwise looked as if he had been struck by lightning. He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see Rhalia, one of his riders who had probably been eaves-dropping on his secret plans, with here mouth wide open. Deowine was angry, but he didn't feel like yelling in his mood. Quietly, he said "Rhalia, go back to your tent, and don't let me catch you eavesdropping again!"

Rhalia nodded dumbly and did what she was told. Deowine went on to say to the hobbit: "We must lead them through the Paths of the Dead, it is the only way."

"Very well" said Samwise, as if in a daze.

"Do not tell them of this now" muttered Deowine, I want them to have a peaceful nights sleep. Now, I would like to talk with my brother" he said, and with that, he got up and began walking toward the city.

[Irid alMenie]

Rhalia went back to her tent. She could not believe what she had just heard, it was impossible to get out of her head. They would travel the Paths of the Dead! She knew that it was managed before, but she still feared the name.

[~Steadfast Sam]

Sam was extremely shocked at the turn of events that were unfolding. He had assumed that the Paths of the Dead would be involved some way in this mission, and he had no problem with that. However, the thought of fighting in a battle, against enemies he had never even seen, was very intimidating. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> "I must try my best to aid my friend, and live up to Eomer's trust. I do not know exactly what help I will be, though.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> He acutely felt for the first time he had been in Rohan, that being a hobbit was indeed a setback.

[~Theodred]

Deowine walked up and down the town's streets, his mind wandering. He had finally talked about his mission aloud, and realeased his thoughts on taking the Paths of the Dead. Almost twenty years ago, when he was a boy, he remember when Dunharrow was only a strategic fortress, constrained by the Hold. Now it was a bustling city, that extended to the Gates of the Dead. He had been told stories by his father about the brave King Elessar, who had dared to tread that haunted road. He remembered, cowering in his bed at night, when his brother had told him about the dread fear possessed by the King of the Dead. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> But that was all in the past<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he told himself, his mind now in the present. There were no more spirits still dwelling there. Or were there? Deowine forced the horrid thoughts out of his head, and set off for the garrison, to seek out his brother.

[~Arathorn III]

Sitting alone in the camp, a haggard old soldier watched the blaze of his fire. At least, he seemed that way at first glance. He wore a cloak, which partly covered an intricately wrought scabbard that hung on his belt. A bright green jewel adorned the hilt of his sword, along with other lesser markings. His hood was thrown back to reveal jet black hair, and a care-worn face. He was from Gondor, one of the King's most trusted messengers. His name was Berethorn, and it was he who had brought the Red Arrow into the hands of the King of Rohan. After the War of the Ring he had been honoured for his deeds at the Pellenor Fields, and had been given the name "Galenvagor", that is green-swordsman in the language of the elves.

But now he was sitting in the camp of Deowine, wearied after his hard ride, and trying to prepare himself for the journey through the Paths of the Dead.

[~Theodred]

Deowine strolled toward the garrison, situated east of the Hold. It had walls made of rough hewn stone, and large wooden oak doors. The great doors stood ajar, with the occasional soldier, rider, or guard passing in or out. Deowine entered unhindered. He walked down a hallway, and ended up in a brightly lit room full of riders, or soldiers eating. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> This must be the soldiers mess<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he thought. He scanned the tables searching for his brother. He spotted him over in the corner, talking to two other riders, and his fellow guard that they had seen during the afternoon. He saw Gleoden recognize him, and he beckoned him to come over.
Deowine, threaded his way through the hall of crowded riders, and came over to sit by Gleoden.

The two brothers talked till late in the night, for they had not seen each other for many months. Gleoden had told Deowine how he had entered the Royal Guard of King Eomer, and had been given a postion as a bodyguard to the Lord of Dunharrow, Brealaf the fat. He was held highly by the Lord, and well trusted.

Then Deowine told how he had gained the favor of King Eomer, and how he had risen to command a small eored. He was also highly held, but not by a lord, but by a king. He was well aquainted with the King's 16 year old son Elfwine, and liked to teach him riding and archery.

All the while, Gleoden's colleague, Legneh, had sat listening. After Deowine had told how he was faring, Legneh announced with a loud voice: "I need some more beer for my belly" and he stood up with a grunt, and walked off in search of spirits. Now, Deowine's face sobered, and he told his brother: "We have urgent matters to discuss."

Gleoden's face fell. "Hmmm...does it have to do with the siege of Pelargir that everyone is talking about?"

"Yes, that and more" said Deowine quietly. The he told his brother of his plans to ride the Paths of the Dead. Gleoden's jovial face was now dead serious. "Are you sure you mean to do this" he asked incerdulously. "Who knows what might still lurk there!"

"Yes, I must" replied Deowine, his face grimly set. "It is the only way."

"Well then" said Gleoden, very much shocked about hearing the ill-news. "This is why you came here in much haste. A brother cannot let you face supernatural terrors without more help. I'll see that you get an audience with our lord, to see if he will let me come with you."

"Do not get yourself mixed up in my plight" said Deowine. "You shall go with the rest of the force of Dunharrow when it is ready."

"I am going, and that's that." said Gleoden determinedly, and before Deowine could protest, his stubborn brother got up and walked off. Deowine sat there in silence for a moment, organizing his thoughts. It had been an error to tell his brother about his important errand. Now he had been drawn into his plight, and he would be in danger of whatever was still in the Haunted Mountain. Of course there well could be no more spirits, but the place was still avoided, and the frightening tales of it still told.

Just then, Legneh came back carrying a bottle of ale. He looked around, and analysed the atmosphere, then said: "Why are you so glum? And where is Gleoden?"

Deowine didn't answer, he just stood up, and walked out of the crowded hall, leaving the puzzled Legneh scratching his head.

[~Theodred]

***NOTICE***
This RPG is now disabled, but if you would like to revive it, please contact one of the board administrators.