IC Story Thread: Ch.1, Ad.3 - Black Hand

As you all emerge physically, returning to the Druedain village, and mentally, clearing the cognitive fog of the mystic journey, you learn it is the second morning following the evening on which you embarked upon the ordeal.

As you come down the path, into the hillside settlement, members of the tribe rise and peer carefully and count who is returning, and when they see it is all four of you, there is a good level of excitement. Druedain leaping, "Yop"-ing, and slapping of thighs to show exuberance for the new, honorary members of their people.

Then they come to you with food, and drink, and asking many questions which - in the tumult of voices - even Turil can't understand.

The Chanter leads you all back to the dug-out, lean-to-like shelter where you gain some solitude and have some time to rest.



After a time, the elder comes to the shelter and speaks.

"Having seen the world through time, as we have seen it, and in opening yourself up to the wisdom of those things which are a part of our world yet beyond our realm, we welcome you as a People alike to our own People.

Our fire is your fire, our shelter your shelter. If you are in need of aid, you need but ask and we shall lend it. And if our People become in need of aid, we ask that you lend your hand...

Now. We welcome you to dwell here for as long as you wish, though we also know you have ... a matter that demands your attention..."

The Druedain are eager now to share the pipeweed and speak with you all.

However the Elder kind of dismisses Turil's apology, "Already we struggled against the Shadow. Your arrival has brought nothing new in that regard - other than new allies. And so it is all to the good.

And yes, take what time you need, we have little provisions nor warriors to spare, but I wish to know more of your quarry.

There have been some... strange things happening on the mountain recently, and so I think we will each learn from the other."

"Our Mystics watch over our lands, in part, through the eyes of our Stone Sisters...", the Elder gestures outside the door of the dugout lean-to toward a squat stone statue, or totem, that looks like a rudimentary carving of a person, weathered and growing moss and lichen.

" They are scattered about the mountains, and with their aid we are able to see great distances, anywhere they are.

But some weeks ago some of our Stone Sisters were blinded. Never in the stories of our People has this happened. We sent hunters to tend to them, one party returned noting that nothing was outwardly wrong or changed with the Sister, the other... has not returned.", at that the Elder looks sad and concerned.

The Elder wags her head, "Some may be grown over by grass or bush, but no, they are often placed in exposed positions as the more they can see, the better we can see through them.

Also... we have had no reason to hide them. They are a secret that... very few... outside of our People know of."

She bows back but holds up her hands to indicate a degree of hesitancy, "It is a most generous offer, but... for the Sisters, we don't yet know what has even happened, much less what is needed to right it.

As for the missing hunters... Winter is coming, and we must make preparations. We have sent for aid from other tribes, but they must make the same preparations, and we have not yet received the additional hunters we would need to mount a search effort.

It was not my intent to make this your trouble. Already we have sent in motion our own measures that we hope will resolve it. And I know you have your own troubles.

But...

Perhaps our troubles overlap? When you all were first found by our scouting party, you were on a course that was generally headed towards the area of our blinded Sisters... Please. Tell me more of your troubles? Where do you go? What do you expect to find there?"

"We can certainly afford you a guide, to get you at least very near your destination. Whether they could serve in a role beyond that may depend on what is needed beyond that..."

Two Druedain hunters lead you all to the nearest blinded Stone Sister. It is about a day's hike from the settlement.

The statuette is perhaps two feet tall, depicts a crude carving of a humanoid of indeterminate gender, but the figure is positioned in a squatting position or perhaps sitting back on their haunches, with their elbows tucked in close to their chin and their hands resting on top of their head. It is covered in lichen and mostly shrouded by the bushy grasses surrounding it.

The trek to the Sister has taken you up in elevation a good distance and the temperature is rather cold up here. There is frost on the grass and an underlying crust of snow or permafrost coating much of the ground beneath the dry spindly blades. Coniferous trees are still thick here, but the alpine tree-line is less than 1,000 meters above you, you would guess.

The hunter indicates that there is another blinded sister relatively nearby (a few hours hike), and shows you the trail and trail-markers that lead to it. But notes that the other blinded sisters besides these two are not on the same trail, and are infact a good distance away on the other side of the mountain ridge.

Because your only other lead on where to try to find Urqakar is the nautical map, and that does not denote topograghy or accurate mountain features, you can use the stars to try to move towards the mark, but in mountaineering a straight line is rarely the best path, as a canyon or mountain wall could present an impassable hindrance...

Duinhir finds that there are no outward signs of disturbance or meddling with the statue, or even really in the nearby surrounding area.

No damage to the stone that could indicate it's been struck violently, no disturbed mosses or lichen on it's surface that could have indicated of it had been less roughly touched or moved, no indication on the ground or grasses around it that could indicate it was moved. No human tracks in the area that don't belong to your traveling contingent.

The guides again show your the trail, and it's markers, and say that it should be a relatively simple matter for you to navigate to the next Sister. Going all the way to it and back would add on a half day to their absence and the clan is trying to prepare for winter, so they would prefer not to delay their return.

They also say that they tend not to touch them, but it's not forbidden or anything, and so in the interest of ensuring it's not a fake, they kind of just shrug and indicate that it's probably ok.

Upon doing so, the statuette seems to have an appropriate weight, solid bottom, all that.

The next Sister is at an even higher elevation, still several hundred meters below timber line, but it is colder and windier.

This Sister would be easy to miss if you hadn't the trail markings, as it's back is to the trail, and it is heaped with accumulating dirt and debris from the slow erosion of years. The statuette sits on a prominence looking off across a valley to another arm of another mountain.

And as you take in the surroundings, still gathering yourself in this new place, perhaps it is the direction of the "gaze" of the diminutive stone person that draws your own eyes in the same direction, or perhaps it is just chance... but there you notice the distant and vague forms of... two figures on the other side of the valley. It's hard to make out much about them at this distance other than they walk upright on two legs.

The general course of the distant figures seems to be away from you all. But as is the nature of mountainous travel, switchbacks could point them in your direction rather unpredictably, even if only for a short time.

As Cirion thinks back to what he experienced by the mountain pool at the foot of the waterfall, during their ordeal, and the things he felt through the water - and whether he might be able to feel similar things here, he can see their is a mountain stream the winds along the bottom of the small valley, between the figures and him.

And although they are well away from it now, and getting further from it with every step, perhaps they passed over or through it earlier?

There is also the matter of the cold... the frosted grass and the crust of snow, begs the question of, will there be any liquid water in the stream?

It doesn't take long before the figures are passing in and out of visibility due to intervening trees, and soon after they're over a ridge and out of sight.

And you all are out of their sight.

The trek down to the stream takes a bit of time, due to switch backs and the unstable gravely slope, but before too long you're there and although there is a crust if ice reaching out from the overhanging, dead-grass lining the banks, there is a bare rivulet of water winding through it.

Cirion must get down on all fours to reach the running water, as the ice is almost certainly not strong enough to support his weight, and so from the frozen bank, he reaches out beyond the ice to touch the trickling stream.

He can feel the frozen cold of the earth at his knees and palm where they rest on the ground, but it is nothing compared to when he touches the water...

The icy wetness is felt on his finger tips for only a moment before it spreads to encompass his entire body - or is it just his awareness? - perhaps there's no difference... It's not painful or even really unpleasant, it just is.

As he contemplates his will - to sense if those figures have passed by it, the mountain brook responds much like his other senses.

He can feel the rough scraping of the boots of his companions on the nearby hardened earth as vibrations to the stream-bed. The sharp clip-clop of Skunktails hooves echoing through the ground as the horse shifts it's weight about. He can feel the smooth, cold stones and mud that make up the flowing water's cradle. And the faint and meager warmth of the sun on its surface.

And like his other senses, it extends into memory. Water is capricious and ever changing though, and he finds the memory to be short.

However it is long enough for him to trace it back to, really, the only notable thing that occurs within it's available timeframe of awareness.

And that is, similar to the sounds of his companions feet - he recalls through the water the approach of the rhythmic striking of two sets of footsteps, both must be shod in hard boot heels. The shadows of two figures passing over darken the stream's surface momentarily - but it's difficult to make out much specific about their forms - cloaked certainly, but that's about the extent of the detail that is notable.

However, then, there is a hand that dips down into the water - it is holding a large leather skin, and he feels a portion of the cold steam wash into it.

And he can feel the hand and the waterskin, as if they're touching his own hand. The waterskin is a well crafted thing - with metallic bindings and waxed finish. And the hand is, well, not unpleasant to "touch". No filth washes off it, trimmed finger nails, largely uncalloused.

The frozen earth may not take much for tracks, but the crust of snow cover and the dry and dead high alpine grasses do. Duinhir has no problems finding and following their path.

The route the travelers are taking is a winding one. There is no existing path and their progress is slow, taking the course of least resistance while still traveling in a generally westward direction.

Duinhir can tell there are frequent pauses in their progress. And their steps small, unhurried. You have the ability to catch up to them if you wish, to a large or small degree as desired. Or you can simply match their pace and just wait until they arrive at any destination.

As you all move along, following their trail, Duinhir notices that the only fresh tracks are indicative the two figures you've seen.

However. Their fresh tracks do occasionally cross older sets of tracks, also booted, from time to time.

So, only two people have passed this way recently. Presumably the two you witnessed from afar.

But Iin the preceding days or weeks - however long it's been since the last snow probably (which you don't know), there is evidence of a greater but indeterminate number (due to the age of the tracks - not necessarily volume) of others that have also passed generally this way. Though there is no defined trail, they're all clearly going the same direction.

You all begin to pursue the travelers with haste. There will be no concealing your approach, and so it is not a matter of if they will notice your approach, but when.

Their path has begun to take them up a shoulder of the mountain, and so they do make occasional switch backs and it is on one of these turns that they seem to notice your approach.

You're still a couple hundred meters away, but you can see the two stop in their tracks, they appear to confer with each other for a few moments - raising hands to block out the glare of the sun as they look in your direction. Then they start into a jog going a bit further up the mountain side. There is nowhere for them to hide, but they have stopped at what could be considered the most defensible position available to them.

A rocky out-cropping that sits perhaps 25 feet above the path they just took to ascend the hillside. Which is also the path you would have to take, to approach them directly.

Though you could of course detour to approach from a different route, or if you do wish to approach them directly you could certainly attempt to parlay from a safe distance...

There is a brief pause and their mouths work silently as they exchange words with each other that are too quiet for you to hear.

"Hail! You gave us a scare, coming after us in such hurry as you did...

We have no wealth!", the speaker pauses to hold open their traveling cloak, turning a circle to prove that he has only a backpack, and that sags with some weight at the bottom, but otherwise it does look largely empty.

It also serves to display a sword at his hip.

The companion sits still as stone, making no such gestures, gripping a long spear in one hand.

"And we will leave our food for you, here, on this rock!

We do not wish to be bothered, and I tell you, we will be more trouble for you than what we carry will be worth!"

It's hard to tell what exactly it is, due to the need to shout to communicate, but the speakers words bear some heavy accent.

It's difficult to see much beyond their cloaks, but Cirion can tell that their manner of dress is not much like that of Westron Men.

It looks like a more loose, linen based cloth and furs and no fasteners - instead ties are used to close and secure openings, as opposed to the more prevalent wools and finished-hides/leathers of the Men of Gondor and the other more northern lands, which more often use hooks and buckles.

"We are just travelers bound for the western coast of Andrast, and ultimately Lond Daer!

And we are no longer in Gondor, so, you will have to forgive me but... you have no authority here!

We do not know of any statues or Sisters, we have no interest in them.

And so we ask that you leave us in peace!"

Duinhir senses an un-ease in his voice when speaking about Lond Daer that contrasts sharply with his statement on the Sisters.

And it gives him the impression that they're telling the truth about the Sisters, but not their destination.

Eothain gauges no particular reaction at the mention or characterization of Astalor, and the speaker replies...

"You claim no authority, yet you question like an authority...

Come. It seems we have much to discuss.

Let us build a fire, we share food, and discuss."

The speaker gestures behind him and says a few words to the man with the spear. The companion's shoulders sag, he lays down the spear, removes his backpack and moves away from the ledge. It looks like he kneels down to rummage in the bag, perhaps for food or fire-making supplies? But you can only see his head and shoulders so it's hard to tell.

The only way up to them, without going 100s of meters out of the way (which would give them an opportunity to try to flee if they are so inclined) is by the same dog-legged route that you watched them take up to their current position at the top of the out-cropping after they first spotted you.

And because of their significant height above your path - nearly 10 meters - you cannot possibly maintain visual contact while also ascending to their position.

But Duinhir's watchfulness prevents you all from being surprised, as pebbles begin to cascade over the edge above you, and both travelers come to the edge with large rocks held aloft over their heads to cast them down upon you.

The two travelers send the large stones raining down of the first two of you to come up the path...

With the rider from Rohan charging them, both men make ranged attacks upon him! The man with the sword produces a curved knife and throws it, and the man with the long spear throws a shorter spear from a hangar on his back.

The mysterious travelers produce their melee weapons and attack Eothain, ganging up on him, and giving them both an advantage!

The speaker using a curved sword as well as a small buckler, and the other man with his long spear.

Cirion lands a well placed blow as the other two attacks of his allies miss!

The two travelers exchange glances with each other, their eyes wild with the heat of combat as you all press in upon them.

The man with sword shouts into Duinhir's face as he attacks, "You have unlawfully engaged a member of the Royal Family of Umbar! You have initiated an act of WAR!!"

Meanwhile the man with the long spear just presses his attack with the grim focus and determination of a master with his weapon.

The swordsman's eyes flare with rage as Cirion calls him a coward - he's apparently touched a sore spot, and the man just drops his sword as he goes at Cirion's neck with his bare hands!Eothain's blows are mounting up, and he sees a panic set in behind the spearman's eyes that he recognizes as the panic a man feels when he has been hurt badly and knows he's losing the fight! But like a true warrior and one trained in hard combat, he continues to fight back recognizing there is no other option.

As Eothain and Cirion both struggle with their foes, Duinhir takes advantage of an opening and lands a blow that lays the spearman low!

The swordsman is perhaps too fixated on Cirion to notice and he begins to try to choke the lad from Pelargir!

Eothain lands a jarring blow, quickly gaining the swordsman's attention. And when the Southron man realizes the odds, he willingly releases the hold he has on Cirion.

Seeing his ally motionless on the ground, holding his hands out to the sides, he shouts and moans, "Hashim!? HASHIIIM!! Aaagh!!", then hangs his head and falls silent, his body shuddering slightly from soundless weeping.

Eothain finds the spearman lifeless, but he knows if it wasn't the Southron man lying there it likely would have been him.

The swordsman swipes at Duinhir's blade with his empty hand, cutting his knuckles open in the process, and falls to his knees gripping the pant leg of his traveling companion. Pressing his face down upon the fallen warriors foot, he rambles words in the Southron tongue, heedless of Duinhir's demand or the threat of his blade.

The swordsman continues to be unresponsive to words or physical threat. Any attempt to get a response or information from him would appear to require a more extreme means to produce results...

However, both of their packs sit to the side of the path, discarded before the fight to free up their bodies for the violent movements they had known were to come.

Most of the contents are pretty standard travel and survival gear.

Some components in that regard are puzzling. Clearly stuff made for different environs than you're currently in. But little of it is remarkable, except...

One of the packs contains a book, and a scroll case with two documents in it.

Upon inspection one of the documents in the scrollcase is a detailed map, with directions to a location that appears to be... not all that far off from your current location. Perhaps a bit less than a day's hike.

The other document in the scroll case, you've all seen before. Or at least one very much like it. You can't read it though as it's written in the script of Black Speech. You can recall it's look though from the boarded up carriage house in Dol Amroth.

The book appears to be written in the language of the Haradrim, or perhaps some other Southron tongue. And it's subject matter isn't immediately apparent.

The swordsman still doesn't move, even as you tell him he is free to go. It isn't until Eothain sings the song for the death of the spearman - a man who was your enemy, but his ally - that he reacts.

Still kneeling on the ground, his gaze passes over the three of you as he turns his body and faces the sun sinking toward the horizon, his eyes still wet. He turns his palms upward in a motion that looks like some manner of genuflection, and he is silent and motionless for the duration of the song.

Afterwards he hangs his head as his body sags with the weight of sadness and he says quietly, " Have you a tool? Anything that you can leave me with? So that I might bury Hashim. The earth is turning to ice. Do not make me leave him, here, so far from our home... for the buzzards and dogs..."

The ground is already compact and riddled with broken mountain stone, and the top few inches at least are already icy with the cold of the coming fall.

The swordsman silently takes up the implement and begins chipping away at the ground, next to his ally, dislodging maybe a spoonful's-worth of soil at a time.

The man pauses as the crowbar clunks down next to him, but says nothing. However he also doesn't touch the implement, as commanded, and just continues to chip away at the hard and rocky soil with the rope-splitter.

The paper of Black Speech is as inscrutable as ever, and the tome is indecipherable for all (however the contents of both could likely be understood by scholars in Gondor), the only thing at this point which is understandable to your group is the map these travelers carried...