052 - Snuffing lives: the end of the Palantir Commission Campaign.

Before you read on, none of the deaths were PC deaths. So there, the title is misleading but the post isn't. The Palantir Commission has run its course. This post is the last session report for it, although a character-wise epilogue post will follow (so we can all have some closure).

Ulrich, 324 y.o., ice troll, tumbled down, way down.

I tossed my rock at a little archer, but she stepped aside. Across the room, I saw Armech fall to the ground for no obvious reason, Erlich was teetering. The intruders were streaming up the stairs and were about to break into the temple hall. I jumped over the bannister in an attempt to stomp on the little archer. I missed by a yard, slipped on the snowy stairs and toppled into the void (critical fail). My hand caught the stairs on the other side. I swivelled down by one swirl of the spiral staircase.  I landed on my back, with slightly more than my body overhanging, the snow under me turned to ice as a I slipped.

It didn't hurt, I landed head first on Merloch, who tumbled down the shaft at few minutes ago when the invaders first attempted to get to the temple. It could have been worst.

Erlich, 578 y.o., ice troll, humanely disposed of by a hobbit

I tossed my rock at the leader of the invaders. He, and the little bearded northmen had spoiled our surprise. Me was angry. My rock missed the mark and rolled down the stairs into the wall. To my left, Armech fell over backward for no particular reason. The last thing that I remember is the sight of a knight waving a twig at me. I blacked out. 

I wasn't awake when the battle was over, that Farathu lay dead on the floor and all of my friends but Borkum had died. I wan't awake to plead for mercy: a little hobbit gently walked to me and snuffed my life with a few strokes of a sword. I had so much potential.

Armech, 221 y.o., ice troll, inhumanely disposed of by a hobbit

I didn't even had the time to throw my stone when I felt the choking grip of witchcraft on my throat. I remember the look of Ulrich as I slipped backward and hit my head on the stone bench against the wall. 

When I woke up, both my eyes had been gouged and I couldn't find my bearings. The pain was searing. I could hear the rumours of battle, but I knew that my fate was decided. I tried to stand up once or twice, then I passed out for good.  

KerKhan, 324 y.o., ice troll, his last straw was a... knee lock

KerKhan is enjoying his last second in the upright position.

By the time that I managed to shoot my rock, a hobbit and an elf (without a nose) had run by me. I missed the elf by an inch! I jumped over the bannister and slammed into a Lossoth warrior (Nilppi). The lossoth made a crunchy noise and never stood up from my slam, at least until I expired. 

A little bearded Northling grabbed on to me. I tried to push him off, but he instead latched on with both arms and legs. There was no way that I could get rid of him (10 CP, pretty helpless). A dwarf sung his hammer at me, but I dodged it. Two more humans in chainmails moved forward. The chubby one with a longsword stabbed me in the arm, the other scratched me on the chest. I couldn't do much: even the filthy elf was coming back to hit me from the rear. 

My best bet was to try to jump backward over the bannister in an attempt to pop the northling off my chest. My jump attempt failed, badly: my foot got caught and I hit the bannister at the height of my shoulder blades. In the reclining position, I noticed that reinforcement had arrived! Farathu used his irresistible shout to force the Northling to let go. Borkum was picking up a stone bench to throw at the invaders. The dwarf tried to hit me on the head, but their leader managed to sink his sword deep into my throat. Out of breath, in utter pain, I could feel the Northling grabbing on to my leg but I couldn't shake him off. I don't know how he did this, but he snapped my knee backward. The shockwave ripped up my spine and I finally closed my eyes. 

An airborne stone bench grazed my cheek and slammed heavily on the invaders. But this is not part of my story: I was dead by the time that the bench hit the ground. 

Farathu, 4 y.o., Winter Drake, beheaded in his sleep by a warhammer (ouch!)

Less than a second before Farathu lose his head.

I am the campaign supervillain. I was a little unimpressed when Borkum roused me from my sleep with the news that there was invaders in the temple hall. By the time that we arrived in the hall, KerKhan was swarmed by them. I used my command to force the Northling to let go: he rolled off KerKhan and slipped from my sight. 

By then, KerKhan had been mortally hit at the neck by an inordinately tall man in chainmail. I caught the glimpse of another knight in the background waving a wand at me. His magic was weak, but I flukily was weaker. It was bedtime for this drake. 

I could feel Borkum dragging me on the ground, I was about to wake up. A blind dwarf was running in my general direction, I knew this dwarf... the invaders were the demon slayers from Forochel! My last memory of the screech of a possessed warhammer shearing my head off before I could move it out of the way. 

Borkum, 322 y.o., ice troll, retired to live another day

When I opened the door, a lossoth lay dead on the stairs while the other invaders were swarming KerKhan. I picked up a stone bench and threw it at the knights. The dwarf dodged, the leader mostly got out of the way but got hit on his leg. The brunt of the bench's mass landed on the third knight's groin. He should have died, but he didn't. He instead teetered until the elf caught him and used his witchcraft to prop him up for good. 

I pulled Farathu out of harm's way, but got overtaken by one of them hobbits. The dwarf ran up to the drake and pinned his head against the ground. I panicked and ran off to the hoard room. Some of the invader followed me there. The hobbit tried to make me surrender, but the nicer knight told me that my life would be spared if I helped them recover a large glass sphere. The sphere was across the chasm, and the little bearded Northling tried to make me jump across to get to it. 

The invaders were pretty smart: they found a secret door in the temple which lead to the hoard. They stuffed their pockets with as much gold as they could carry. I carried the big rock for them as we hiked out of the temple and through the valley. We parted the following morning. I was free, and frankly I still don't know what to do with freedom. 

There is a twist, which will be explained in the epilogue post!

051 - The Numarii King

This session began where the last one ended, in the middle of an interrogation of an orc sergeant that had been put to sleep by Kasper's elf twig hoodoo voodoo. 

Thannolf bent down to the orc's face and repeated his question. The orcs smiled but didn't answer. The northerling lost patience and locked his elbow at a very awkward angle. The orc tapped out from pain and told the company that the dwarves should still be loyal to Farathu. Halin kicked him as they decided to let him go. The only way out was back to his bethren (and into certain death).

050 - Noseless in Middle-Earth

... or as +Zack Mackay puts it, "Fear and Nosing in Middle-Earth".

Kicking up dust

Nimrodel and Nilppi walked up the valley road towards the orc camp. The goal was to draw the orc army's attention as soon as possible. While the elf remained alert, bow at the ready, the lossoth hunter busied himself throwing dust up in the air to make himself seen. A keen eye would have probably noticed the hobbit creeping overhead off the mountain side. A keener eye would have been required to spot Irina perched above the back gate of the Numarii fort that the company had just cleared. She stood there, motionless, behind a large rock with her bow in hand. 

The rest of the company had fashioned heavy curtain by weaving all sorts of rubbish and orc cots together to make it hard to rush through the open door. The contraption was a sigh for sore eyes, but would probably be heavy enough to cramp the orcs' style for a moment. 

Nimrodel spotted two wargs in the camp. That was just about when Nilppi's dusty mess drew their attention. The two companions sprinted back to the gate to gain high ground.

Thus tumbled down an elven nose

The first wave of orcs to rush away from the camp was 20 strong. Among them, two wargs and their riders. Nilppi climbed above the gate on the cliff side and readied his weapons. Nimrodel found a good shooting nook and arrayed his ammunition. The wargs didn't overtook the orcs and seemed to match the group's speed. Both Irina and Nimrodel had a limited stock of arrows and decided to hold fire until the orcs were in range. Irina mowed four in the last leg of their charge, while Nimrodel cut two down. 

Arnadil prompted Kasper to make the best use of his magic elven wand and "do his trick". Kasper gave him a puzzled look, but obliged. A wave of panic filled the valley and sent the majority of the orcs running away from the gate. A warg rider was attempting to rally the troops, but without luck. Nimrodel and Irina zeroed on the leader right away. Irina almost sprained her wrist in the heat of the moment and was left defenceless. Just at this time, Nimrodel placed an arrow into the warg, with no great effect. Nilppi sprang from his hiding spot and jumped down the cliff side down to meet the warg. 

The charge had failed: most orcs that didn't get terrorized by Kasper's magic had turned around anyway to follow their allies. Nimrodel's fancy footwork as he shot caused him to slip (critical fail #1) and tumble down the cliff. He ended at the bottom of the cliff in the crouched position, presenting his head to the last orc still charging (he failed to notice that he was almost the only one left in the charge). The orc sliced Nimrodel's nose almost cleanly from his face. The elf, in shock, recoiled to protect himself while Halin the dwarf rammed through the orc and knocked him dead. From then on, the company was out of one cartilaginous appendage.

While Irina, now out of arrows, rushed down to the ground to tend to Nimrodel's profuse bleeding. Nilppi and Thannolf were working together to flank the warg. Thannolf's well placed Lossoth's dagger punctured the beast's lungs and knocked it unconscious.  The rider fell to the ground only to get skewered by Arnadil. He arrived just on time to look good (after fighting off a few orcs on his way). 

Irina did stop the bleeding, and the elf used his elven healing to bring himself from the brink of death ( -4 hit points ). The orcs that once were on the run were starting to regroup some 500m down the road. Time for round two.

   

Keeping the eye off Frodo... ahem Finbert

The plan called for making enough noises to allow Finbert to slip to the orc camp and scope the entrance of the Numariis. Finbert noticed that a second wave of orcs had waited for an orc leader to get outfitted before leaving the camp. Some 20 other orcs left at the jog to link with their companions at some point down the road. Finbert leaned against a rock and determined that there was no more than 10 orcs left in the camp: all of them squinting to find out what was going on at the other end of the valley. 

The second wave, combined with what was left of the first one, didn't attempt to enter the gate. They stood there, jeering and shooting the occasional arrow at the company members. Poo was flung in the process, which was a nice touch. Nothing was happening at the other end of the valley.

Finbert took advantage of this situation to slip by the camp and walk through the open gate of the Numariis. The first gate didn't have door and lead into a kill zone room similar to the first Numarii's entrance. The room was dark and cool. Finbert slipped along the wall until a faint noise caught his attention.

Finbert isn't dropping no eaves on the dwarves.

Through the murderholes on his left, he could hear the muffled voices of dwarves arguing in the Naugrim language. Finbert considered slipping past the open doors at the end of the killzone, but decided instead to back down for the moment.

He sneaked into the camp to find many cooking fires. The tents were filled with straw beddding. Finbert managed to set a few of the tents on fire without being noticed. As he was plotting more destruction, he heard the rumours of many armored feet coming from within the citadel. He slipped out of the camp and found a hiding nook just on time to miss a wave of roaring dwarves.

There was about 10 of them, and the overran the camp: burning what was left and slaying the remaining orcs. When the dwarves were done, they stopped and debated while looking at the far end of the valley. The smoke of the burning tents drew the besieging orcs' attention. A great many of them abandoned the stalemate against the company and ran back to their camp.

The dwarves hurried around to create chokepoints amid the smoke. They were about to fight the orcs! Finbert smiled and began the tedious way back to the company. 

Thus tumbled down a pair of dwarven spectacles

Nilppi lying down after a critical fail, Irina badly hurt on her chest, Halin looking for his
spectacles on the ground, and noseless Nimrodel hidden beyond the gate.
Not exactly the most glorious moment of the company.

The company had braced for a big showdown into the entrance hall. To their disappointment, the orcs didn't dare barging into an obvious trap. When most of the orcs ran back to their camp, Nilppi didn't wait for a cue to launch into a pursuit. About 5 orcs sprang from cover to meet with the lossoth hunter. The company was taken aback by the tactical soundness of the remaining orcs. Halin, perched up above the gate had a rock ready to push down. However, as the company poured out of the gate, he decided to change tactics to flank the green mob.  After a brief conga line to get out of the gate, the company fanned out to engage the orcs. This is when things started to go bad. Nilppi, about to strike slipped on a flung orc dung that was steaming on the ground. Thannolf and Kasper moved into to cover the lossoth.  Halin, some 5 yards overhead, began a charge down. Quickly, the charge turned into a tumble, then into a bowling strike against the nearest orc. The orc was knocked out alright, but in the process Halin lost his spectacles. The world turned into a whirl of blurry sploshes while the dwarf was feeling around. At this point, Thannolf would have suffered a major wound to the groin, but we figured out that his +1 to active defence due to combat reflex saved him. Arnadil had taken on two orcs and Irina, sword in hand for the first time in this campaign's history, moved in to fill a gap. The orc thrusted his sword into her chest, shattering a few mail loops and causing her great pain (Picture above taken at this moment).

This was the low point, Nimrodel's arrows rescued Irina who moved on to strike at orcs in anger. The last orc to fall was their leader. He collapsed to the ground without a strike. From the other end of the melee, Kasper was waving theatrically his pair of elven wands.  

An orc with no hope... wait... nope.

Halin's spectacles go crushed during the tumble, making him now a card carrying member of the nearsighted club (-2 combat, -6 Perception, ouch). Irina tended her own wound briefly to stop the blood flow. Nilppi wiped his foot on some rocks. At the other end of the valley, orcs and dwarves were about to clash and nobody in the company could have explained why. 

They gathered around the sleeping orc sergeant and kicked him until he woke up. The orc considered his options and realized that he was dead. With nothing to lose, he jeered and insulted the company in hope to the slain before he had to say anything useful. The company tightened the ring around him as Halin gave him the best string of dwarven expletives that money can buy. Kasper even used his elven wands to bolster the dwarf in his attempt to take control of the raving orc. 

The attempt was successful, the orc was cowed into silence, his chance to meet a quick death dashed. The company got out of him that orcs and dwarves hated each other. That, the master would skin the company members alive when he'd chose to. When prompted as to whom was the master, the orc replied "Farathu". 

Thannolf roughed him up, trying to get more out of him. But the orc smiled, he knew that he was about to die. "And so will you", he concluded with a smile.

049 - One big, elaborate dwarven joke.

The Entrance of the Numarii dwarves.

Walking knowingly into a trap

The gate under the mountain was adorned by two large statues of drakes. The gate itself was made of solid steel. At its center, there was a ring. Two flames shone like bright beacons atop pillars from which the mechanism of a draw bridge was secured. A canal crossed the hall, some 3 meters deep. Dark water was flowing from left to right through a pair of grates.

The company looked around in suspicion. Irina was the first to cross the bridge. She approached the steel gate and kicked it. Her toes absorbed the shock: no sound was heard. This door was in a wholly different league as the last three. Arnadil drew from his past as a fortification engineer to inspect the draw bridge. He noticed that the floor off the far wall was in fact a platform. The platform was made of slates and a steel structure that was bracketed at both ends and off the pillars opposite to him.

While Halin was prompted to inspect the structure, Nilppi got Thannolf to help him fathom the canal. There was only about a foot of water, and the current was marginal. Nilppi lowered himself with the help of a rope. The water was foul smelling and oily on its surface. Nilppi didn't made much sense of the steel structure underneath the floor until Halin got himself down there. The old masterdwarf had carefully removed his armor before taking a dip. It became obvious to him that the brackets holding the platform were moving components of some larger mechanism. Halin noticed that the platform would probably swivel down if the mechanism was triggered.

Nilppi, unable to grok dwarven engineering, headed to the upstream grate. At first, he thought that he heard a noise and stopped. He stretched his neck and drew his torch though the bars to see farther outward. A shockwave of roars rammed into the grate. A wall of claws and bony faces pressed senseless against the bars. Nilppi stepped back, some other members of the company readied their bows.

By the time that they had decided what to make of this. The brawling ghouls had turned against each other and drifted out of sight. The clamor died down. The company turned to the gate. The whole thing smelled bad. The choice left was walking into the trap, or go home.

Waddling in the wading pool

They knew that things would have to get bad before they got better. Two ropes were strung across the hall. They ran between the dragon statues: one on the ground and one at chest level. A third rope was tied to the ring on the door. Kasper, Nilppi and Irina got themselves on the ground-level rope such that they would not fall down if the platform was to collapse. The rest of the company returned to the near side of the canal to tug on the third rope. The pulled on the ring, which slid out smoothly. 

Nilppi jumped in style.

Predictably, the platform swung down into the water and the grates opened at both ends. The gate clicked open. The three company members balanced themselves against the wall. Kasper grabbed the door and slipped beyond. The disappointment was sharp when he realized that the gate lead to a room the size of a closet which housed the trap's mechanism. Nilppi dodged the claws of the ghouls by shoving Kasper into the closet. Irina considered jumping in, but one of the ghoul was in the process of chewing up the rope on which she stood. 

 Nimrodel and Finbert were shooting freely into the pit. Arnadil took a leap and knocked a ghoul off balance on his way down. When the rest of the company realized that he was now in close combat against 6 raving ghouls, they began jumping in as well. Nilppi first, then Kasper dove with his longsword swinging. Thannolf took a flying jump and snapped with his knee the head from one of the ghoul's spine. The ghoul fell in the water, then stood back on its feet. 

The melee was made of an unstructured mix of good and bad guys. Arnadil got clawed on his chest and blood started to drip from his armor. His attempt to retaliate was more spiteful than effective: his sword hit the ground and bent his wrist at a questionable angle (critical fail, crippled hand for 30 minutes). Thannolf, still hot in the collar from his super cool entrance grappled the ghouls from behind and tugged at its head. Halin hit hard but failed to silence the beast which fell only after Thannolf sliced its head with his sacred Lossoth knife. That was the last one still standing.

The company discovered that the ghouls didn't want to stay down. They had to hit them until their bodies were mechanically destroyed. Once that the smallest parts of the ghouls were too small to be articulated, only a floating mess of writhing flesh was left drifting to the right grate with the current. 

The Palantir commission as a novelty act

Climbing out of the pit was a trivial affair, but would lead only back to the entrance. A summary exploration of the upstream hallway lead them to an octogonal room. The room appeared to be the bottom of a chute set at its center. The chute was a mere 1m by 1m, but how far above was its origin couldn't be estimated. Nilppi tried to climb up but slid back down. By tossing a grappling hook, the company figured out that the chute was about 3m long. However, the grappling hook didn't caught on anything near its upper rim. 

The company decided in the most bizarre chain of reasoning to make a human pyramid so that the lighter and more nimble member could climb up to the chute's top. To convince the GM, there was threat to fetch video of cheerleader teams performing said action. The GM finally got swayed when the company threw into the plan the trunks used to make the battering ram. Kasper, Thannolf and Kasper were to make the base, supported by the battering ram's components. Arnadil, towering over his 7 feet made the second layer which took the construct into the chute. Nimrodel, nimble and light elf climbed up, then the hobbits. Irina managed to pull herself to another octogonal room. The beams from the ram were passed upward and Irina secured the ropes. In about 15 minutes, even the stoutest company member had made it up to the top.   

The only way out was a set of stair, running parallel to the stairs that lead to the hall. At the top there was a dead end and two small levers. Irina spotted in the dust many recent tracks of orcs and evidence that the far wall swiveled around a hidden axis. Pulling on the level brought them at the foot of a new set of stairs and to another secret door. Crossing the second door took them back behind the third wooden gate that they had rammed through about an hour ago. Irina tracked a large number of orc tracks in the dirty floor. Evidence of outdoors dirt could also be found. The company headed up the stairs and noticed a cool and fresh draught coming from higher up. 

The subterfuge revealed

The company walked through a storage room turned into an orc barrack. Beyond the door, they found themselves outdoors on the other side of the mountain. A path ran down into a close valley. It went back up at the other end, some 1500m away from the door. A camp of orcs was bustling with activity on the mountainside. Beyond the camp, there was another gate carved into the cliff. Arnadil used his looking glass to scan the area. He estimated the number of orcs to 50 to 70. He also noticed higher up on the cliff side there was an elaborate opening. 

The complex behind them seemed to be a decoy to mislead invaders. Halin shrugged at the Numariis' strange ways (The players are actually thinking that the Numariis could be some kind of duergars). The company was acutely aware that it was just a matter of time before the orcs would notice the death of all of their gatekeepers. Irina and Finbert, the resident hobbits in the company, volunteered to scout along the valley road. Finbert stumbled, lost his cool and came back to the gate right away. Irina kept on climbing, identified a hidden spot on the mountainside, but determined that she would be detected if she dared going further. 

The company pondered whether wait 15 days to get the support of Sir Galdor and his the soldiers of Gondor, or somehow trick the orcs into a winnable battle near the exit of the false Numarii gate. 

048 - Knock knock, who is there?

The Lossoth warriors of Arthon

Nilppi of Arthon, Lossoth Warrior overjoyed to join
the demon slayers from the south

After talking with the Arthedain chieftain in Arthon, Thannolf headed to the Lossoth area of the village. He was received with suspicion by the lossoth leader. His attitude changed radically when Thannolf's identity as one of the demon slayer was clarified. 

To Thannolf's greatest surprise, the Lossoth of Arthon did not appear to be great fans of Mulkan and its antics. Thannolf was treated with a large meal and hours of interesting conversations. The Lossoth leader offered the service of one of his top warrior, a middle-aged man called Nilppi. Thannolf tried to learn more about the Numarii dwarves and their relationship to the Winter drake. Unfortunately, nothing new came out of this interview. Thannolf and Nilppi took leaves of the chief and returned south to Kalt to link with the rest of the company. 

047 - A journey up the Lhûn valley

The Gulf of Lhun

The Swan had entered the gulf of Lhun two days earlier and was making good progress against the current. A small elf-made craft approached the large Gondorian hulk as the harbor of Gray Haven got in sight. The elves on deck were neither friendly nor hostile, but made the whole crew uneasy. The ship attached itself and pushed a gangway up to the Swan's deck. An austere looking elf introduced himself as Alumnim, dockmaster of Mithlond, and informed the crew that Gondor was not allowed to sail passed this point.  

There was a pile-up in the leadership of the Swan as Arnadil, Galdor and the ship's captain all felt that they should address this edict. However, Arnadil had the key document: a letter from King Elessar. Arnadil introduced himself the best that he could in Sindarin, and managed to convince Alumnim to let the Swan enter the port under a number of restrictive conditions.

The Swan sailed into the harbor. On both sides were arrayed a number of ships being built to take more elves to the undying land. The Swan moored itself to a pole off the shore and a few of the crew members made it to shore with a rowboat.

046 - The legend of Sir Galdor

This post refers to play that occurred in a more abstract way in between Chapter 2 and 3. Some was played by post, some was done at the table. Some really neat gameplay took place in this session: I skimped on the technical details but the Social Engineering book saw a lot of page flicking. 

Session 18

• Part I - The Legend of Sir Galdor
• Part II - A journey up the Lhûn valley

Arnadil wrote a masterpiece

With his hip badly mangled, Arnadil had to find a way to kill time while sitting down. Arnadil began gathering notes about the commission's journey. He really got into it an began writing prose from his notes almost right away. His keen intellect allowed him to learn fast, and by the time that the Raven had touched the docks in Osgiliath, Arnadil had a manuscript that read like a professional piece from a chronicler. Little did he knew at this point that his manuscript would play a key role in thwarting Sir Galdor's takeover bid on the commission!

Meanwhile, and after his hip got better, Arnadil also spent a good amount of time teaching swordplay to the hobbits. He learned a lot about teaching while his companion got to refine their rough skills a little bit. 

Thannolf the sailor man (toot! toot!)

On the way back from Forochel, Thannolf busied himself to become the first mate of the Raven. He wanted to get the pay boost, and definitely had some time to burn off in between drinking binges. He applied himself to the craft of seafaring. Using his empathy, and a good dose of acting at the right moment, he won the respect of the crew and the affection of Vacros, the captain of the Raven. This got him to the position of second mate with a small pay increase. An unintended secondary effect of this effort was that it became clear to him that the Palantir commission had been deceived by the crew all along: The Raven was indeed on lease from Dol-Amroth, but Vacros had assembled the crew specifically to take the commission to Forochel in hope to sail away with the Palantirs and fence them to a mysterious high bidder. With the Winter Drake involved, Vacros cut his loss and dropped the plan.

Vacros, knowing Thannolf all too well at that time, bribed the northmen into keeping this secret for long enough to avoid trouble with the other commission members. Thannolf added his celebins to his (ethically muddled) stash and decided to take the secret to his grave. 

Finbert's lost treasure is really lost 

Finbert was very sore that his purse had disappeared at the Imenstone, unlike all other commission members. He suspected Thannolf, whom he distrusted because of his insatiable greed and criminal past. Over the length of the trip, he tried to take advantage of Thannolf's compulsive carousing to interrogate him while he was drunk. However, Finbert got more often than not drunk happy faster than the young northmen [Carousing contest won by Thannolf.] Furthermore, Thannolf's empathy allowed him to get cued that the hobbit was on his tail and caused him to remain guarded. Overall, Finbert's attempt to pull information from Thannolf was unsuccessful [resolved as an influence check as the gameplay was abstracted]. To make things worst, Thannolf's Fortune telling allowed him to read through Finbert very well. The northmen took advantage of this. He ended up having a little fun at the expense of the hobbit. Finbert stopped drinking, which was hard for him as he is fond of food and drink. But Thannolf was already cued and kept his guard up. 

When Finbert arrived in Minas Tirith, he sought employment Public Houses. Surprisingly, what got him the job came from an unexpected place: Finbert was the companion of the now famous Sir Galdor of Dol-Amroth, champion in the North.

The Legend of Sir Galdor, Hero in the North

A buzz came upon Mina's Tirith in the early days of July. A minstrel name Petron proposed a new epic saga put to music which told the story of Sir Galdor, knight of Dol-Amroth. According to the epic song, Sir Galdor met with Linluile, patron said of Annuminas, struck down a demon in the north and confronted a winter drake. He was accompanied by valiant hobbits, a legendary dwarf warrior and a rabble of other who played no large parts in the tale (other than giving up too fast when facing the drake). This tale spread like wildfire through the city, and rubbed the party members as both offensive and inaccurate. 

Arnadil invited the nobility and the gentry to a ball in his Mina's Tirith home. Petron may have wrapped his fingers around the crowds in public houses, but Arnadil intended to make truth prevail for the upper crust of Gondor. Arnadil's invitation made the rounds in the City Watch mess halls, and throughout the King's court [Propaganda check success]. Arnadil passed his manuscript to Irina who started to put keys parts to songs [Signing check success with MoS 3]. The evening was well attended, except for the notable absence of Sir Galdor himself. Irina's music moved the crowds and a few good laugh were shared on Petron's version of the company's adventures. Although at a great expense, Arnadil's ball had the effect of setting the records straight at least on the 7th level of the city. Irina couldn't outperform Petron on the public house circuit, but the ball had a deep impact on how the coming week developed.

The news that Prince Imrahil of Dol-Amroth had pledged a navy ship and a small force of horsemen and pikemen shook the company at first. The word on the street was that Sir Galdor was to lead the new expedition. The company learned from Kasper (still Sir Galdor's squire), that Mildred Imrahil, the grand-son of the prince, had joined Galdor as a page. Some company members expressed the concerns that the legend of Sir Galdor was drifting from a bad joke into a potential disaster. However, the Lord Chancellor made clear to Arnadil that King Elessar had never specified who should lead the company, nor that anyone could impose a leader no matter how generous the pledge may be. It was thus decided that Sir Galdor and his new pet would be given the command of the slow soldiers while the rest of the company would rush ahead and hopefully solve the problem before the circus hit the town.

Another point of note is that Sir Galdor wasn't capable of coming up with all this on his own: a force was seeking fracture lines within the company for its own purpose.

045- The longest day on Middle-Earth

This session picked up at the height of a cliffhanger from last session. Arnadil, the company's moody but fearless leader had fallen off the mast and seriously injured his pelvis. Kasper, the squire with spells, has managed to climb up to another mast with only one hand working. The rest of the company is running around trying to hit a winter drake hatchling which is having fun ripping off the ship's rigging. It was dark, in the middle of an unnatural snowstorm, and the company were caught in this while binge drinking, following the death of their friend: Araliniel the seer.

Act 45, Scene 1 - Slipping right through the fingers

One thing that got clear for both parties was that this combat wasn't going anywhere fast. Thannolf began negotiations. The drake asked all to lower their weapons, and in turn the snowstorm immediately subsided. The drake pointed out that their ship was getting in a terrible shape, and that they would need it to escape the angry Lossoths from Mulkan. He pointed out that his army would also be there in a few hours to collect his treasure. He proposed to stop thrashing the Raven against both Southron stones and the gondolin sword. 

041 - Five wraiths over Mulkan

Session 14 - Frost Wedging part 3 of 3. 

A chip from the Imenstone

This session report covers the adventures of the Palantir Commission members who have crossed into the shadow world. Its timeline is intertwined with the previous story (Act 40). 

Act 39 - Lossoth Tales...
Act 40 - We're not in Kansas anymore
Act 41 - Five wraiths in Mulkan 

Act 41, Scene 1 - The eye of the storm

Arnadil banked on his leather glove to keep the Imenstone from affecting him. This theory went out by the window. The tumult of the world of the living was suddenly replaced by a void. Little of the world around remained: there was a standing stone close to his head, but it was crystal clear and didn't look to be solid anymore. The shard was clasped tightly in his hand. Astor, his gondoling sword, was glowing like a mirror in the sun. He turned around and saw Kasper and Finbert in similar predicament as his. Where his other friends stood, there were only faint outlines, barely a shade darker than the background. Arnadil noticed that the amulets were also glowing, and in his pack, one of the ruby encrusted in the key of the library of Annuminas. The three friends nodded at each other, planning to let go of the shards and return to the world of the living. Neither Kasper nor Arnadil managed to let go: against their better judgment, they chose to remain in the shadow world while Finbert vanished. 

040 - We're not in Kansas anymore.

Session 14 - Frost Wedging part 2 of 3. 

A chip from the Imenstone

The company is exploring here the possibility to cross into the shadow world in order to advance their quest for the Palantirs. 

Act 39 - Lossoth Tales...
Act 40 - We're not in Kansas anymore
Act 41 - Five wraiths in Mulkan 

Gwirith 29th, Midday 

Act 40, Scene 1 - Going up...

The air was thick like pea soup, a heavy sleet was washing the ice bank. Reitu pointed at the cliff where the fjord meets the bay. "It is easy to find, good luck, Southrons". The fact that their guide flatly refused to follow wasn't enough of a warning of things to come. The company crossed the icy kilometer to the foot of the cliff. The ambient light started to shift from white to blue. A rhythmic wind ebbed from the heights. The trek up the cliff would take 10 minutes. From the chiseled rocks overhead, the skeleton of a giant walrus peeked forward, but then recoiled at the sight of the warding totems. Finbert cued the company to two other tall skeletal figures lurking in the gray backdrop. Halin, Galdor and Kasper kept the totems high as the company resumed their hike upward. The demons kept on recoiling, kicking stones that tumbled down to the company's feet. At one point, one of the bone terror slipped downhill beyond sight. The light faded to a deep purple. The flight of countless bats could be heard, making circles above their heads. 

When they reached the edge of the cliff, the rhythmic breathing had gotten intense and seemed to originate from a circle of standing stones. The snowy ground was a vast boneyard, thousands of bats were grasping at any rough surface available. The only sound to be heard was the low breathing from the Imenstone shrine. The bone terrors could approach closer due to the lower light, but the totems still kept them at bay.   

038 - A diplomatic surgical strike in Mulkan

This session reports on the Palantir's commission first contact with the tribe in possession of two Palantirs. They know that they are personae ungrattae in terra incognita. A number of demons are lurking around, and the locals to be swayed are xenophobic yocals that eat angels for breakfast. The ice is thin under their feet, literally and figuratively.

Act 38, Scene 1 - The Raven gets skittish

During the night of the 26th, a sailor panicked and climbed the Raven's rigging. In the midst of the raves and pleas for help, he appeared to be fending off an invisible foe. The last that was seen of Paulof was when he got plucked from the ladder and dragged to the black waters below. Then there was silence.

The Captain of the Raven reported the story to the Palantir commission members on the following morning. He made clear that the crew and himself weren't paid enough for this kind of travelling. He bemoaned the lack of commercial opportunities and threatened to cut short the expedition. Halin let out a grunt and a stare good enough to cow a troll [ Intimidation check won by +5] [+]. Arnadil explained to Vacros (the captain) that the commission wasn't going anywhere and that no payment would ever be made without their safe return. Vacros backed down [ Intimidation vs. Will, supported by Halin. Success.] [+], but maintained that his crew was getting restless. It was settled that double pay delivered up-front should be good enough to keep the sailors content for about another week of lingering [ Merchant quick contest, won by Arnadil with MoS +2] [+].   

036 - A walrus called Wanda

In the previous session, the company members decided that a simple charge against 200 walrus was a good way to harvest a little bit of ivory. Why ivory? To satisfy some Lossoth supersition about warding off demons. The intention here was good, and the plan certainly shone for its elegant simplicity. When the last session wrapped up, +Alex Safatli suggested that the engagement was over, which I almost believed to be true. However... wrapping up took an additional two hours of swashbuckling and wraithswirling. BTW, the GM is a flake, we all know that. I really want to commend my players for pointing out how their own disadvantages and situations complicate things: this is bloody awesome that we're doing this together instead of having a GM vs player atmosphere!

This is where we left...

035 - The wall of walruses, part I

Walruses sighted

There was over 100 miles of water to navigate before the Raven arrive to Hlethui. On the first day of navigation, the open water held nicely and the ship remained in sight of the ice attached to the shore. By mid-day, a moan-like clamor could be heard ahead. Reitu prompted the company members to come to the forecastle of the ship. "This is a lucky day for you, Southrons", he claimed. "These are the moans of a pack of walruses". He told them that the ivory of walruses was ideal for the ritual foundation of a tribe. He instructed to sever their heads, that only an elder should remove the ivory from the skull of these beasts. 

Araliniel tried to get herself out of this "harvest", but Reitu insisted that she participates. He excused himself from the venture as he already belonged to a tribe, and had no desires to count on a bunch of pink-skin Southrons to protect him from the terror. 

The Raven approached the ice and let out a gangway to the ground. The company stumbled down and peered at the colony of walruses some 200 meters to their right. These were not Earth walruses! These beasts were 5 meters long and their head standing over 2 m tall above the ice. More than 200 of them were huddled at the edge of water.  

034 - Everybody's life just got a notch more complicated

Entering the Ice-Bay of Forochel

Gwirith 24 FA 16

The Raven had finally weaved a difficult path through the ice floes into the Bay of Forochel. Forochel was created in the First-Age when the Valars came to destroy Mortgoth's fortress of Utumno. The place is the flooded site of the dark lord's gateway to the underdeep: a place so vast and and dark that Sauron managed to hide and survive the ordeal (with the results that we're all aware of). Keeping this in mind, the company members kept a close eye on the surrounding. The bay, in sharp contrast with the open sea left behind, was eerily quiet. A thick fog was covering the place. The light of day and night were no more than subtle variants in shades of blue.

A porpoise was circling the Raven, underneath Finbert's eyes. Something was out of sort, however. The porpoise was particularly skinny, if not bony. Finbert pointed out his observation to others, but no one could see the beast even when it passed under their eyes. The bony porpoise hit the hull of the ship a few times, but still no one but Finbert could hear the thuds. Finbert grew tired to be looked at as if he was insane. Nerve shot, he packed a pipe choke-full with Longbottom leaf and sat on a pile of ropes.  

033 - A winter in Tharbad

Wintering in a Frontier town

This post documents the abstracted character development of the PC in the campaign between Session 10 and Session 11. The next report referring to a live session is 034 -  The Lossoth people of Laakvesi.

Tharbad, circa Fourth Age 15

Thannolf the Northerling

Biography

Birthday : 7th of Lothron (May)


Basic Stat block:  ST 11, DX 11, IQ 10, HT 12, Per 12

Early Life (Age 0 - 12)

Thannolf was born in the foothills of the Ettinmoor while the war of the ring was raging in the south. It was a dark time for Northmen as orcs and trolls descended from the mountains to raid settlements with increased regularity. Following the defeat of Sauron, the influx of orcs in the North became a real threat. Thannolf's community relocated to the West in the ruins of Fornost: the ancient capital of the Arthedains. With the arrival of travelers from the south, a fever started to spread, causing them to die or scatter away. Thannolf was separated from his family during a night raid by orcs when he was 12 y.o. He wandered south, and never found his kin again. 

Skills: Area Knowledge (North) [8 pts], survival (woodland) [4 pts], survival ( tundra ) [ 4pts], brawling [4 pts], weather sense [2 pts], 

Languages: North-tongue (Native, illiterate), Westron (Broken), 

Trait: Light sleeper, Luck, Dislike (Orcs), Empathy

Years of Wandering ( Age 12 - 13 )

He spent the first year of wandering on his own, fending off hunger, loneliness and wolves. He discovered a special affinity with animals: he could understand them even though they didn't speak the same language. He befriended a pack of wolves which stopped stalking him and coexisted with him for the rest of the summer. When winter came, the hunger became too much for the beasts: Thannolf had to leave their territory. Winter was a miserable time of deprivation and isolation. He eventually returned to Fornost to find a deserted place. He met with soldiers of Gondor who provided him with shelter and food against his services as guide and kitchen hand. When Fall came, the soldier marched back to Tharbad. Thannolf found himself alone and jobless in a foreign city.

Skills: Survival (woodland) [8], running [2], hiking [4], 

Language : Westron (Accented, spoken only)

Traits: Animal Empathy, restrictive diet (vegetarian)

Years of Soldiering ( Age 14 - 16 )

He was employed sporadically as a runner for the Commander of Tharbad, where he gained a taste for possessions. Earning money, trinkets and fine clothes went straight to his head. He seeked more earning opportunities, became bolder. He wanted to gamble for profit but the manager of the Alehouse, Lady Arda, refused to let him in. He was soon in the habit to steal from the army stores to resell on the black market. Eventually, he realized that living off crimes in a small community was dangerous: he took up an appprenticeship with the riverine sailors. With the sailors, he learned the ropes of river navigation and learned too soon to enjoy one too many drinks each day. His fellow sailors liked him, although they didn't trust him all that much: Thannolf was always ready to pick up extra work for a handful of coins.

Skills: carousing [2], gambling[2], streetwise[4], savoir-faire (military)[1], soldier[2], knife[4], brawling[4], head butt(brawling)  [2pts], knee strike (brawling) [1 pt], ,wrestling [2], smuggling [2], profession (sailor) [2], knot making [1], area knowledge ( West Gondor ) [4], lock picking[1], pickpocket [1], searching [4], Acting [4], Body Language [4], Acrobatics [4], Fast-Talk [8], Detect Lies [2]

Trait: Greedy, Compulsive carousing ( self-control: 9 ), Social Stigma (Northmen), combat reflex

Recent Events ( Age 16 )

Thannolf was caught stealing from the army store once more while on shore leave in Tharbad. He was thrown into jail until the new Captain of the Watch demanded to talk with him. 

Trait : Social Stigma (criminal)

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Notes on playing Thannolf

Thannolf has had a hard life. He developed a near obsession with acquiring things. He likes to be able to afford the nicest booze, clothe items and other possession. If he sees a more valuable dagger than his, he will endeavour to get his hands one it. he is not fundamentally dishonest, but may freely choose to be if it helps in his pursuit for more stuff. Nearly all of his decisions comes down to whether this will be profitable for him or not. Another trait of Thannolf is that he has the disadvantage compulsive carousing. He must do whatever he can to party and drink alcoholic beverages each day. He is not alcoholic: his need is not a physical addiction but rather something that he has to indulge regularly. Resisting the urge to party requires a Will check, skipping a day temporarily gives him the disadvantage bad temper. 

It makes sense for Thannolf to join with the Palantir Commission because 1) it gets him out of jail, 2) will take him back to the great North and, 3) these guys are treasure hunters... Right?

What Thannolf knows about the Great White North

Thannolf's grand-father was from the Forodwaith, beyond the mountains of Angmar. He has heard tales of how terrifying the great white north can be: giant beasts, night terrors and snow wraiths. He speaks natively the North tongue and has some knowledge of the Ice Bay of Forochel from stories and tales. He knows the Lossoth people for the fierce nation of survivors that they are as some of their blood still flows into his veins.
Thannolf may teach North Tongue to his fellow Company members, but he himself osn't much of a teacher.