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).

K12 - The Evil Eye

Recollections from Donarik, ranger of the Ark.

"Bimbo" the troll gets a hatchet blow in the kidneys and another one in the guts
from an unseen dwarfy thing. 

Once that the screaming in our heads stopped, we noticed two large trolls coming out of suspended animation from alcoves in the walls. Khazek-boy and I shot but hit the wall instead. I dropped my bow, drew my axe as I stepped back. I hit the troll really hard in the face and knocked him senseless. As he was teetering, I hit him again on its skull. This seemed to snap him off of his stupor. The troll grabbed me and used me as a projectile on my leader. Khazek dodged, I landed heavily on the ground. Rough day.

Around me, Khazek took over to push the troll back. Drolf and Vadek were about to fell the other troll. A number of orcs were streaming into the hall. Khazek and Vadek covered my flank as I stood up again. Kalin and I pushed the troll back into its alcove and finished him off as the rest of the battle unfolded.   

K11 - The obsidian tower

Phew, is has been a month since the last session of Reclaiming Khazad-dum. We left our dwarven heroes in the midst of a magic attack on top commanders of the dwarf vanguard.

Diary from a Murik "tumbletorque", war drummer of the Ice Lot

An air of confusion and excitement had overtaken the camp. The rants of the sergeant major were overridden by the Attack-Lord's own monologue. People were digging holes and filing them back in. A bad scene.The victory to take the bridge had been followed by another to the north and vast amount of ale had been seized. The word on the lines was that the ale would be kept as personal loot by the brass. This rumor didn't please the dwarves. Our commander, Kalin "Stronghold", a noble from Aglarond had entertained us all in the afternoon with his antics. As the night fell and the orcs became restless, the commanders were all of a sudden nowhere to be found.

032 - Bulky trolls in narrow tunnels

Session 10 - Would you like to be my neighbor? 

This session takes place as the members of the Palantir commission are returning to Annuminas to determine what lies within the ruined city. In the previous session, they ran into a number of orc workers busying at erecting an enclave around a few rough buildings. 

An unexpected encounter

The last scene left the Palantir commission members in possession of an Orc prisoner and a pile of bodies. The orc camp was suspiciously featureless: an enclave made of a rough palisade and two buildings. The first building was built from stone walls from within a large ruined mansion, the other was a neater-built wooden structure.

While Galdor occupied himself finishing orcs laying about, Arnadil, Halin and Irina busied themselves in setting a watch. Finbert and Kasper entered the stone building from where a small plume of smoke was coming from. They found a rough kitchen. Something was cooking over the fire. A set of stairs lead to a lower level, some 15' down, and ended against a heavy grate. The grate was mounted over the door frame and could be removed by simply pulling two pins near the top. Whatever this grate was put up for, it wasn't to keep out smart invaders. The cellar was filled with junk: shovels and picks, fire wood. A torch was lighting the place. Finbert climbed on Kasper's shoulder and reached the pin with his hobbitish hands. Another grate was covering the approach from a set of stairs heading down. There was a door on the opposing wall, as well as a door on both left and right. The voice of excited children could be heard beyond the door on the right. Children, there is no such thing as juvenile orcs right?

Finbert fetched the rest of the company, but left Galdor to keep a watch and the prisoner. The company stacked behind the door and bursted in. The throng of children ran in fear to the far end of a wine cellar. The hobbits sneaked in the cellar to follow the children while Arnadil followed, sword in hand. They were met with a number of Northmen women interposing between the party members and their kids. One of them was holding a club, but to her surprise, Finbert snatched it from her hands, covered by Irina [ This was the first playtest of the Evaluate (combat opening), Finbert was standing in the shadow of an oak barrel and managed to remain unseen, he called for an Evaluate(combat opening) the outcome was a bonus for a weapon strike if he selected an all-out attack . Still unseen, Finbert decided to go for it with an all-out attack (determined), and got a net +5 to grapple the club and ripped it from the woman's hand ] [+]. Arnadil and one of the women began to argue. The women asked them to leave, she stated in broken Westron that nothing of value was to be found in this place. After a bit of interrogation, the women told the company that they were all cowering underground to protect themselves from the witch-king blight. They also told the company that there were some trolls in the lower levels [ Interrogation vs Will won by a large margin. Overall reaction was determined to be poor, but the women were in a position of weakness while protecting 13 children.] [+]. Arnadil ordered them to leave the camp with the children and locked them out after resetting the grate.

The witch-king blight was probably making reference to an epidemic of ghouls that was released by the WitchKing of Angmar during the war with the Arthedains. The company did not particularly looked forward to deal any more with the dead. 

They scoured the place, which was once the cellar level of a very large mansion. They found weapons, a large sharpening stone, about enough bedding for 20 orcs or Northmen. One of the Orc dwelling had a larger bed behind a makeshift wooden division. They found beside the bed a small chest filled with silver and some gold, and a collection of three elven skulls. At the far end was a lair for wargs, also empty at the moment. 

The only unexplored part of the cellar was now the set of downward stairs beyond the other grate. A small horn was hung on a peg beside the grate. Galdor released the women and children that were held prisoner in the kitchen and joined the company. The stairs were narrow and steep: a perfect place to engage trolls
coming from below.

Bulky trolls in narrow tunnels

The company knew that a number of trolls were present below the cellar level of the mansion. Arnadil sounded the alarm by blowing on the horn. He descended a few steps, followed by the other members. The hope was that the trolls would meet them and fight an uphill battle in a very narrow passage. However, although some noise could be heard in the distance, the trolls did not come. The company carefully advanced and reached the stairs' landing some 30 yards below. Another grate could be seen on the left, but the corridor itself kept on going straight ahead. It was possible to hear a quiet shuffle of heavy feet in the dark. 

Two charging trolls realizing that
they had just decided to run into the dreaded
troll slayers.

While Finbert was trying to pull on the pins, a large stone flew out of darkness into Arnadil's shield, making a large thunk. Behind followed two large female trolls, charging madly to close in on Arnadil and Kasper. The first troll collapsed, fast asleep, before reaching the company. The second troll jumped over her friend to slam into Arnadil. Arnadil cleverly side-stepped the charge [ Arnadil applied the side stepping technique described here ] [+] and made way for Halin's waiting hammer. The hammer lodged itself into the troll's leg but slipped from his hands under the momentum of the charge. While Halin was trying to wrestle his hammer back into his hands, Kasper and Arnadil delivered heavy blows to the troll's torso. In writhing pain, the troll attempted to grab Halin by the neck, but was then felled by one of Irina's arrow in her chest. Galdor dodged the falling body. The anemic trolls of Middle-Earth had yet again made a poor show of themselves and died too fast (Time to ramp up the challenge rating of the opposition, me think). 

The company entered the adjacent room beyond the grate and found a vault now used as a dormitory for orcs.  There was nothing much in there of value, except a small bag of coins underneath the pelts of  the leader's bed. They dragged the trolls into the room, laid one of them grotesquely on their dining table and the other in their leader's bed. 

The hobbits celebrating atop one of the female troll.

Beyond the vault, they found a complex of tunnels that was part of the defensive structure of the high-city in the days of the Arthedains. The troll lair was there. They traveled west up to the river crossing but found that the hall was flooded chest-deep in frigid water. Although Arnadil suspected that the tunnels would probably lead all the way to the citadel and the library, the company decided that soaking themselves up to get there was a bad idea. 

On their way out of the camp, they destroyed the sharpening stones and threw the little weapons of values under the ice of Lake Evendim. The women and the prisoner had left while they were exploring the camp. There was only a few hours of light, and no way to tell when the bulk of the orcs and Northmen would come back. They decided to head back to the horses and return to the Shire. They got to Longcleeve a few hours into the night. 

Reflecting on the day's toils over a warm hearth, they decided that the terrorized orcs would probably be on the defensive in the coming few days. They settled on returning to Bywater for a week. Then they could decide whether to return to the library as planned. Many in the company argued that this foray in Annuminas was not really helping the search of the Palantir of Arnor.

A glimpse of the Palantir of Arnor

The week in Bywater went quickly. Everyone busied themselves with merriment and errands. Halin, Finbert and Irina sparred together in mock wrestling contests: but the lightweight hobbits and the legendarily strong dwarfs were not exactly even matched. Arnadil spent the week riding his warhorse across the Shire. Galdor spent time with his dogs and played dice, Kasper read in the peace of his bedroom and Araliniel studied the seeker spell.

On the eve of their departure for Annuminas, Araliniel declared that she had managed to put together the pieces of the seeker spell and was about to be able to cast it. It took her two more days of high anticipation before she emerged from her room, a bright smile on her face,

"I have seen the Palantir of Arnor. It is atop an altar in a temple, somewhere on the frozen shore of a very desolate place". The news came as a big surprise as the Palantir was thought to lay beneath the waves of the frozen bay of Forochel. It seems somehow possible that the Palantir had been retrieved and placed into a temple somewhere in the frozen North of Middle-Earth. 

The company poured over maps. They needed to know more about Forochel, and find a way to get there. Traveling overland and off road into the Forodwaith in the stone-cold middle of an unnatural winter didn't appealed to them! The Shire was eating up their budget very fast. They decided to set winter quarter in Tharbad. There, they can send news to Tarquillan the High Seer, and hopefully get their hands on some information on the Ice bay of Forochel and the Lossoth people.

021 - The vault of the Royal Library

October 30th, FA 15

The deep purple of night faded to gray. A scene of carnage that couldn't be missed laid beyond the door frame of the stone house. The company members preferred to stay inside and chug their coffee. This night had been a long one. Most members kept the watch at some point during the night: many lived in fear of seeing the corpses of the trolls rise all over again to exact their revenge. Of course this didn't happen: this was all night fright. The hunting hours for the trolls had gone by in peace and quiet.

020 - The blind scouts

October 30th, FA 15

Finbert and Irina slowly teetered in the dark up the road, through the tunnel and finally reched the troll camp. The ease to defeat two trolls almost convinced the company to casually walk to meet the other trolls in their home. The idea was turned down, probably for the best. However, the hobbits wanted to see what was going on over there. Although seeing is something that they could hardly do as the world was at this time made of two shades of black and one dark purple [-4 to all checks].

019 - Why can't we all be friends

October 29th, FA 15

Once the trolls walked away from the camp, the members of the company hustled to come up with a plan. It seemed probable that the trolls were to come back on the same path. The main challenge of setting an ambush was that none but Halin could see in the dark. It was decided that the four walls of the camp would be used as a strong point to constrain the trolls into a tight space. Meanwhile, Finbert would act as a bait, well in sight in the old city gate barbacane. Irina was to cover with her bow while Sir Galdor and his squire Kasper would hide, mounted on their horses, across the road from the camp.

The GURPS Middle-Earth Troll

Background

Trolls were created by Morgoth in the First age to be oversized fighting minions. They were fashioned from stone, and have the fatal flaw to revert back it when exposed to direct sunlight (overcast skies are fine, but seen as unpredictable). Although bred for fighting, many sub-population of trolls have diversified and defined culture of their own. As trolls are not very intelligent, and usually hungry, the bulk of their culture is centered on eating and hoarding. The late because they are big, the former as a remnant of their design as pillagers. 

018 - Close encounter of the troll kind

October 29th, FA 15

The daylight was drifting to blue, the snow did not relent. The company was standing where once there was a city gate. To the north, a road was leading into the barrack sector and the King's foundries. The path there laid, untouched by feet of any kind. Arnadil climbed atop of a low wall segment, in search for a shelter. Both horses and dogs were restless, Sir Galdor couldn't really contain the great danes' nervous energy. Luckily, Kasper managed to get the dogs to regroup, sit down and most importantly to shut up. Araliniel was tending to the horses, also nervous as if they could smell that death was prowling from the stony wastes. 

Arnadil opened the way in and spotted a nearby small stone house. Most of its walls were still standing up. He signaled all others to bring the horses within. They quickly setup a fireless, joyless camp.