Hunt for the Palantíri RPG

[piosenniel]

PROLOGUE

--- Regin Hardhammer

~*~

Who knows where the lost Stones of Arnor and Gondor now lie, buried, or drowned deep?

--- Gandalf, from The Two Towers


The palantiri, or Seeing Stones, were fashioned by the Noldor, probably by Feanor. The Elves presented seven of these to Amandil as leader of the Faithful in the Second Age. The palantíri were crystal globes of power, black in color, that a person of strong will could use to communicate thoughts with someone using a similar stone or to see things from anywhere in the past or present. In the hands of a good ruler, the Stones were important tools for communication, but they were also capable of abuse. The evil ruler with a strong will could use the Stones for spying and domination. Sauron, for instance, projected images of despair in the Anor-stone to manipulate and destroy Denethor’s mind. There is even some indication that using the Stones, like the Ring itself, could be addictive to its owner, especially if misused.

Amandil’s son Elendil brought seven of the Stones with him when he sailed to Middle-earth after the fall of Numenor. These were eventually given to the Kings of Gondor and the North for safekeeping. A verse from The Two Towers describes the faithful fleeing Numenor bringing the Stones with them as they sailed across the sea:

Tall ships and tall kings,
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.

This tale will focus on the Stones of Amon Sûl and Annúminas, the most important palantíri belonging to the Kings in the North. The Stone of Annúminas was the smaller of the two, measuring about twelve inches across. It was used by the Northern Kings for day-to-day communication, and had a range of about 500 miles. Even more powerful was the Stone of Amon Sûl. This was so large that it took more than one man to lift and could work over very long distances. In the winter of 1974 T.A., after years of unrest in Arnor, the Witch King defeated King Arvedui. The King and his men escaped with both Stones to the northern foothills of the Blue Mountains and hid in a deserted dwarf-mine. Hunger and cold drove them to seek help from the Lossoth, also called the Snowmen.

The Lossoth were a remnant of an ancient people called the Forodwaith dwelling along the Ice Bay of Forochel. Their culture was well adapted to their snowy/icy environment – they constructed houses out of snow (possibly similar in principle to igloos), and traveled on sleds and bone skates. Despite the Snowmen's fear of the Witch King, and the general unfriendliness of the tribe, they took pity on the strangers and helped them survive.

When the Elf Cirdan heard about the King, he sent a rescue ship. This ship arrived in the Ice Bay of Forochel in March 1975 T.A., when thick sheets of ice still covered the shore extending out into the water. Despite the Lossoth's warnings and the treacherous conditions, Arvedui insisted on trying to reach this Elven ship. He managed to do this with help from the Lossoth but, once aboard, a great storm arose that drove the Elven vessel back towards the shore onto the ice. The ice crushed the hull and the ship sank, killing all aboard and taking with it the precious palantíri that the King had brought with him. (LotR, Appendix A, iii)

By the end of the War of the Rings, just two known Stones remained in Middle-earth. The Orthanc-stone, once controlled by Saruman, was the one King Elessar normally used. The second, the Anor-stone, was virtually unusable since it still bore the imprint of Denethor’s hands and crazed mind when he threw himself on the fire.

It’s interesting to think about what happened to these lost palantiri of the North. Did they remain undiscovered at the bottom of the Ice Bay, or did someone try to find them? The Palantiri were objects of immense power and would be prime targets for anyone seeking to seize political authority by sinister means. Fortunately, most people did not know about the Stones at the beginning of the Fourth Age. However, this tale will explore a Corsair sea captain’s quest to find the Palantiri both for his master and to avenge the death of his father.

[piosenniel]

Piosenniel’s post

‘My clan should have finished their Late Season Hunt by now,’ said Bear, his breath trailing in an icy fog behind him as he spoke. He rode the runners of the ice sled as the team of six dogs raced over the ice toward home. ‘We should be there soon. And by the way, we’ll pass by the northern rim of the Ice Bay. You’ll be able to see how thick the ice has grown while we’ve been away.’

Rôg spared a frozen grin back at his guide, and would have given him the universal gesture of a thumbs-up, save that his hands were encased in thick leather gloves and buried beneath the heavy fur hide covering him from toes to chin that blocked the cold from his body. Never mind that he already wore breeches and a hooded tunic lined with soft, warm fur – he was still cold, a disadvantage from having lived the majority of his life in the desert areas of the South lands and the far north east.

This had proved a most interesting trip for him. He’d seen birds and animals he’d not seen before in his travels. His notebooks were filled with description and drawings of all he came upon. The people here, too, he found fascinating – they seem to have adapted so well to this inhospitable climate. Rôg chuckled to himself at the thought that they would suffer just as much in the heat of his homeland.

They traveled on a good deal further over the white land with patches of frosted, peaty tundra just barely showing through. Bear called out to the dogs as he pulled on the reins, turning them toward the northern rim of the bay. They stopped near the edge and the two men proceeded on foot to look out across the freezing waters. Much of the bay was already beginning to freeze over, especially the shallower areas along the edges. Rôg could almost hear the ice groan as it reached out further to take hold of the deeper waters.

Rôg put his mittened hand to his brow, shading his eyes has he looked toward the far end of the bay. He squinted hard against the glare at some small, indistinct shapes he could see floating in the freer areas near the bay’s opening. ‘I didn’t know your people had sailing ships,’ he said, drawing Bear’s attention away from the dogs which had been given a small snack for their efforts.

Bear’s brow furrowed at the comment. ‘We don’t,’ he returned, drawing up alongside Rôg. His hand went in to the large pouch that hung from his shoulder and fetched out his long-seeing tube he’d gotten in a trade from one of the other clans. Steadying his arm he peered through the tube, describing as he focused it, the ships that were in the bay. Now it was Rôg’s turn to frown, and he took the tube from his companion to look for himself . . . hoping against hope, that it was not what he expected.

‘Scurvy sea-rats!’ he muttered, a term picked up on his few voyages by ship to Umbar.

‘You know these ships?’ Bear asked, not understanding the words of the imprecation but the feelings behind it. ‘Not so good, eh?’ he prompted Rôg.

‘Not good at all, my friend. They’re Corsairs . . .’

~*~

A few hours later found them at Bear’s clan encampment. News of the far southern men in ships had spread to the enclaves of Icemen about the Bay and Rôg gleaned what he could from the bits and pieces of gossip. They had been in the bay for a number of months now, seeking some sort of treasure, he heard. No, not from the sunken ships another answered to his question of what kind. ‘Old, old treasure,’ said one of the ancient elders in a thin reedy voice. ‘Those men from the old tales who sought our help. They had the great round stone, and the lesser,’ he said, recalling the old story they had all heard. ‘They were lost in the waters of the bay, it was told. Held by the ice for all these years from the Shadow and the Light.’ Those standing near the old man nodded their heads remembering the story. Other Lossoth from clans nearer the place where the Corsairs were seeking had been offered payment for their aid in helping to find the treasure, so Bear’s clansmen had heard. Not all the Lossoth thought it a fortunate venture – there was something about the men in the ships that raised the hackles of warning that they might prove untrustworthy in their promises. A number of the Lossoth who had agreed to aid the Corsairs were those ‘troublemakers’ within the various clans who had sought to challenge the present chieftains for clan leadership. It was said that the Corsairs were helping these malcontents with a promise of weapons to use in their fight for the right to be ruler.

Rôg listened silently as Bear and the others discussed the Treasure-seekers. He had no idea what they were seeking, but he knew that whatever it was, the finding of it would bode ill for any of the perceived enemies of Harad and Umbar. One of the Lossoth elders thought it might be good if they sent a message to the Elves in the Gulf of Lune, to ask for aid in ridding the Ice Bay of these treasure seekers. What use that would be, though, was debated hotly, since travel by land or sea would take many, many weeks.

In the midst of the discussion, Rôg cleared his throat to draw their attention and then spoke in a hesitating manner. ‘Begging your pardon, but if you can tell me where it is I need to go, I can take your message for you. Should only take a day if it is somewhere near the havens in Mithlond.’

The clansmen looked at him as if he had gone quite daft, and then one by one they began to laugh at his preposterous offer. ‘A day to make it to The Star and Swan at the Grey Havens?!’ one of them hooted. ‘What’s your friend propose to do, Bear? Fly?’

‘Well, yes, actually,’ said Rôg quietly. ‘The Star and Swan, you say? At the Grey Havens?’ Stepping outside the ice hut, the laughing crowd following after him, Rôg walked quickly to a large open space on the frozen tundra. I’ll return as soon as I can with help.’ Many of the group shook their heads at him, and returned to the shelter of the hut. The wind was picking up and already there were swirling flurries of snow that obscured the landscape. Bear watched Rôg as he moved farther away from the hut. He was hoping the man would give up the crazy idea and return to warmth of the hut with him. Rôg’s figure had grown dim in the distance and Bear called out to him. His words caught in his throat as he saw through the thick white blanket of snowy air a huge, dark figure take to the air

The brown Wyrm’s wing-beats stirred up the swirling flurries even more. He circled once, close over the small figure of Bear below him, then dipping his head once to the wide-eyed man, he flew south.

~*~

It was late night when he circled the Havens. Winter clouds obscured the moon and blocked the stars, making his drop down to an empty field just a short ways north of the gulf go unnoticed. A very short walk brought him to the cobblestone street that ran through the middle of the small town and down to the harbor itself. A narrow, dirt side street that paralleled the main one was where The Star and Swan sat, an Elvish watering hole for those still considering the trip West. Cirdan and his ship had not been seen in many years and the clientele of the Inn had continued to grow slowly, the patrons becoming fast friends. It was an unassuming little place . . . plain in looks, the wood greyed from years of contact with the salt sea mists and breezes. It bore no sign, only a small engraving on the thick oak door of an Elven Swan ship with a single mast; the sail of which bore a reyed, six-pointed star. What looked like waves were etched along the ship’s side and seemed to break against the bow . . . though on closer look they were not waves but clouds . . .

Rôg pushed open the door, stepping into the welcome heat of the small fire in the stone hearth. He pushed back his brown hood, letting his eyes accustom themselves to the level of light in the Inn. There were Elves . . . a fair number of them in his estimation, scattered about in the booths and at the tables in the Common Room. Their grey eyes were all turned to him, a detached sort of curiosity showing in them. ‘What sort of creature is this?’ he could almost hear them wondering. Not one to dither when action is called for, Rôg stepped into the middle of the room and cleared his throat loudly in the silence.

‘Begging your pardon, Master Innkeeper,’ he began, acknowledging the aproned Elf who leaned on the bar, his brows raised at the out of place visitor. ‘And yours also, good Sirs and Ladies . . . but I was asked to bring a message to the Elves of Lune from the men who live round the Ice Bay. Something is troubling them, and they need your assistance to sort it out.’

‘And what sort of trouble would that be, Rôg?’ came a vaguely familiar voice from the shadowed corner of a booth. Rôg squinted into the darkness, seeking a face to fit the voice.

‘Luindal? Is that you I hear?’ He went on before the Elf could clamber from the booth and show himself. ‘Big trouble, I think. There are men seeking two stones lost by other men long ago, in the bay. Good men, I think it was who lost the stones . . . a great round stone and a lesser, the elders told me . . . but I fear to tell you it is men of the Far South, Corsairs from Umbar, who now seek to gain them for themselves.

[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age’s post

Luindal gently pushed his cup of nectar to the side and peered intently across the Common Room; he had been startled to hear the message given to the Innkeeper. He craned his neck for a closer look and was even more surprised to observe that the messenger was someone he actually knew: Rôg the Shapechanger, a man of many talents who had last crossed his path during a visit to the home of a friend near Minas Tirith. The words the Shapechanger spoke seemed even more unlikely than the fact that the speaker had apparently materialized out of nowhere in the middle of the Havens. As Luindal well knew, the young man had certain special talents that even he and his fellow Elves could not match.

Luindal stood up and walked over to his friend, gesturing Rôg to join him at one of the corner tables; then, he stretched out his lanky frame and carefully listened to his companion’s strange tale of a Corsair sea captain who had recently arrived in the north searching for two ancient Stones at the bottom of the Ice Bay. Clearly, these were the palantiri of Annúminas and Amon Sôl that had sunk some thousand years before, when the Elven ship sent to rescue the King had capsized and all aboard, including Arvedui, perished beneath the ice.

Luindal first explained how the Stones could be used to communicate thought and images over great distances, and even to twist and manipulate the mind of the speaker on the other end, duplicitous acts that Sauron had once used to his own evil intent. With a sigh, he added, “I must take this news to Cirdan immediately. He has but late returned to the Havens, with ships to take more of our kin. I do not know what he will say, only that this could have terrible consequences for the peace of Arda and Elessar's intention to restore goodness to the land.”

Rôg responded, “What would you do then to help the Lossoth and rescue the Stones, if this thing were left to you?”

“Do not even ask!” Luindal’s frustration was evident in his curt denial. “I am but an Elven seafarer, a simple Wood-Elf with a knack for boats. Such questions are above me. Other Elves in the Havens understand these matters better than I do. Cirdan can decide what to do and have them mount an expedition to put things right.”

With the end of their conversation, Luindal offered to shelter his friend for the night. He had plenty of room on the swan ship Phalás, or Sea-Spirit, now moored beside the dock: this vessel currently served as his home. Hastily escorting Rôg down to the quay, Luindal offered his goodbyes and promised to return by dinnertime.

************

It was several hours later when Luindal returned to the Phalás. Rôg came out from below and greeted him on deck, anxious to learn what had happened.

For quite a while, Luindal said nothing, instead pulling a plug of weed from his satchel along with a pipe as he stood by the rail blowing decorative smoke rings while staring stubbornly at the water. Finally, he spoke, “A nice habit, this.” Luindal gestured to his pipe. “I picked this up on my most recent voyage to Gondor where I had the good fortune to meet two periannath who had friends in Minas Tirith.”

“That is what keeps me here instead of sailing with my family--the chance to explore the wonders of the Sea, to meet new people and hear new things. Early on, I could have left any day, if I wished. I might have walked to the harbor and climbed aboard Cirdan’s vessel. Even now, Cirdan has returned once more and another shipload of my people will soon depart. Today, I wonder if I should take passage on that ship. Yet it appears that this cannot be. ”

In a lower voice, he added, “Your news was taken seriously. In fact, tomorrow, before we leave, Cirdan wishes to speak with you privately.”

“Before we leave?” Rôg interrupted.

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s right…. I am to go north in two days. In fact, I am to command the ship that sails to the Bay. And somehow, we are to retrieve the Stones before the Corsairs do. If we cannot do that and they get there first, we must challenge them to battle. Whatever happens, they cannot come away with those Stones. It could be the death of Gondor. Cirdan says that there are few left who have experience sailing and fighting. Sadly, I happen to be among those few.”

Luindal took another puff on his pipe and observed. “As a youngster, I heard many tales from my mother about Elves who had such knowledge of shipbuilding and sailing that their skill was deemed an art. Even today, we sing songs that recall their golden deeds. Only now these Elves are gone, and it is left to me.”

Luindal stared over at Rôg, “These Snowmen of yours….they should have had you fly to Minas Tirith and ask the Men for help. It is their age now, not mine. I thought I had seen my last fighting when the Ring War ended. I know this must be done and I will do my best, but I wish it might be different. The last time an Elven ship was sent to the Bay, everyone aboard perished.”

“Luindal, I am sorry for that other Elven ship,” Rôg interrupted. “And sorry also that this burden must fall to you who do not wish to carry it. But, the Corsairs have made the lives of the Lossoth miserable and I feared they would do the same to others. The Snowmen cannot wait for Men to travel north. Elessar’s help would have come too late.”

“I understand,” his friend nodded. “You were right to do as you did. With these Stones, the Corsairs could force their will on many. I will not speak of my feelings again. And I promise you that I will do everything in my power to stop the Corsairs from seizing these Stones. By right, they do not even belong to the Elves, but to Elessar. Come now. Let us talk as friends and have some dinner. We will need all the strength we can muster over the next few weeks.”

With that exchange, the companions turned and went below, where Rôg had already set out a meal for them to share.

The conversation finally turned to their impending trip to the north as Luindal noted, "I have no fear of getting there. The Stars will guide us north. It should take only a week or so, once we put out to Sea. I wish it were earlier in the year. Yet, there is still time to make it through. Whatever weather comes, I can bring the ship to anchor in the Bay. It is what happens afterwards that bothers me. Whatever we do must happen soon or we run the risk of being trapped over the winter, or even of wrecking the ship. I do not want to repeat Arvedui's mistake; nor do I want to spend months battling Corsairs, of whom I personally know nothing other than the unpleasant tales I've heard from you and Mithadan."

Luindal fingered a piece of food and pushed it over to the side of his plate. Given the responsibilities weighing on his head, he had little appetite. “It's true that I can personally stand frigid weather and ice storms with little problem, and I know how to swim quite well. But knowing how to swim is a bit different than diving down to the bottom of the Bay and somehow locating ancient objects that have been lost over a thousand years. Once we find them, we can use a winch to heave up the Stones. It is locating them, and attaching the straps and ropes that remains the main problem. I have no ideas of my own."

[piosenniel]

Piosenniel’s post

Rôg had listened closely to Luindal as he spoke. As sometimes happens, a word caught his attention, sending his thoughts down rambling paths. . . . swim . . . Something he had seen on his explorations with Bear, his Lossoth guide, niggled at the edges of memory. He paused in mid-chew, his eyes fixed on his plate. With his fork, he traced a pattern in the thin pool of gravy on the flat of the dish. A sleek figure in vague outline seemed to move beneath his hand. He could not quite make it out before it disappeared beneath the coalescing sauce. His journal! The entry would be there if he could just remember when he’d written it.

‘I have no ideas of my own . . .’ he heard Luindal trail off in a half question. He took a breath and refocused on the Elf across from him. ‘Give me a little time. There is something I cannot quite recall right now. It may be of some help . . .’

[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age’s post

At each churning motion of the Bay, the waves swelled and then crashed against the ship’s bow, with water flying up so high that it came flooding over the deck. Despite the run off into the drains and over the side of the hull, Luindal still found himself standing ankle deep in water. Rushing from one end of the ship to the other, he barked out orders to his crew to strike the mainsail, hoist the storm sail in its stead, and drop the sea anchor over the side to provide needed weight.

Despite the heaving of the sea, the ship was managing to stay upright as they struggled forward into the Ice Bay. At least the Phalás was carrying a heavy ballast, a special precaution he’d taken knowing that they’d likely encounter poor weather on the trip. Things had gone well for first week on the open seas, but once he crossed into the Bay the heavens had opened with torrential rains and wind. It almost seemed that the Bay itself was unwilling to open its treasures to these curious outlanders, however well intentioned they might be.

The plain fact was that Luindal did not know too much about the local territory or conditions. He was used to living close to the land or water, and it bothered him that he had so little understanding of this strange place that he was in. He hoped Rôg was right in his assessment that a number of the most trustworthy Lossoth would be helping them in this endeavor. Their chances for success would be much greater if they could only get the local people to aid them. For the hundredth time in the past week, he reminded himself of the fact that, if the Elves and Men had simply accepted the counsel of the Snowmen who had warned them not to try and sail, many lives would have been spared, to say nothing of the Stones themselves.

He glanced around at his crew to make sure that they were holding up in the storm; they were all brave hearted Elves but only a few had real experience on sailing ships. This was apparently true of Rôg as well. The greenish tinge on Rôg’s face suggested that his friend would rather not be on this heaving ship.

A ferocious blast of wind came scudding down from the north, hitting the vessel broadside. The ship lurched sidewise but thankfully recovered, and after swinging around halfway, continued inching into the harbor. Luindal cast a wary eye up to the mainmast. He hoped that the lines would hold and that the mast would stand tall and firm. The last thing he needed was a cracked spar.

As the winds pulled back and the ship sailed into shallow waters, Luindal instructed the helmsman to take care not to bring them to close to the banks of ice, which lined the shore and already projected out into the Bay. In just a few more weeks, the Bay would freeze over even more, making it very difficult to navigate at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, on the far side of the Bay, Luindal caught sight of another large sailing vessel, this one very different in appearance than his own. She bore a strange black flag above her mast, with what looked like a exotic heraldic device imprinted on the material. He spied a number of men and a woman or two wearing thick fur coats, probably members of the Corsair crew; most of them had dark hair and brown or olive skin. He was too far away to pick out the expressions on their faces. But he had a feeling that they did not look too happy at the moment.

[piosenniel]

Regin Hardhammer’s post - Mareth

Marreth sat brooding inside the cabin of his ship, which had been moored at the side of the Ice Bay, within a well hidden cove that was totally free of ice and snow. The weather was stormy and the night dark. He gazed out at the violent sea as the waves rose and thunder roared. This was the worst storm he had experienced since his arrival in Forochel some three months before. It was an ominous sign that the weather was changing, and that blankets of snow and ice would soon descend on their heads. He found himself troubled and frustrated that he and his men had made so little progress towards accomplishing their goal.

Earlier that year, everything had seemed more optimistic. Marreth’s patron, the great Lord Castamir, had been searching ancient scrolls to obtain information on artifacts of power, especially those created by the Noldor. As a descendent of the Black Numenoreans, Castamir had extensive knowledge of early languages and lore, which he hoped to use to seize control in Umbar and eventually to challenge Gondor itself. While visiting Minas Tirith on a trading mission, Castamir had been able to consult the royal library and was elated to learn about the ancient Stones of Annumínas and Amon Sûl. He immediately decided to send out an expedition to locate and retrieve these objects of power from their watery grave at the bottom of the Ice Bay of Forochel. These Stones would give him the means to spy on Elessar’s troops and navy as well as to keep a controlling eye on his own people.

Circumstances seemed to favor such an expedition. There had been several years of drought in the North, with diminished amounts of rain and snow. As a result, the water of the Bay was shallower than it had been for some time, with stretches of the coastline and its maze of caves and rocks exposed to public view for the first time.

Marreth had eagerly sworn allegiance to Castamir, agreeing to head the expedition. Castamir’s plan seemed like the perfect way for Marreth to gain revenge. During the War of the Rings, Marreth had served on his father’s ship as part of the Corsair fleet that sailed up the Anduin. He had seen Elessar lead the hosts of the dead onto the pirates’ ships, and his own father driven mad as he jumped overboard to his death. Marreth had sworn to avenge the death of his father by bringing ruin to Elessar and his kingdom. These two Stones could help accomplish that goal.

Marreth and his ship had arrived at the Bay in early summer and spent months struggling to locate the missing globes. But the search had not gone quite as smoothly as expected. An exploration of the coastline and caves had yielded no results. And even on the fringes of the Bay, the Corsair divers could not stay in the water long enough to find anything without freezing to death. At first, the Losseth, the native peoples of the Ice Bay, had been suspicious and sought to avoid the strangers. As time wore on, a few malcontents began to assist Marreth, won over by future assurances that the Corsairs would supply a large cache of weapons to help them topple the existing Lossoth chieftains and seize leadership within their own tribes.

These malcontents, in turn, provided the Corsairs with seals that had been specially trained to seach for evidence of shipwrecks along the bottom of the Bay. With the establishment of peace, there had been a considerable increase in the number of trading ships that sailed North over the summer months. Along with this increase came a rise in the number of shipwrecks.

Those Lossoth who could handle the trained seals actually made their living from salvage operations, having the animals first locate the vessels and bring up a piece or two of sunken booty to those waiting in the ships. Then Lossoth divers would plunge into the waters and quickly secure the objects using a heavy leather net or sturdy ropes before attaching these to the hook of the WINCH. The last step would be pulling the object to the surface and unloading it onto the boat. This whole operation was only feasible during the summer when large stretches of water were free of ice.

Marreth had hired the men and told them to use these same tactics to hunt the palantiri, but they had still not achieved success. As the weather began to worsen, the Corsair pushed his crew and their Lossoth allies even harder to try and find the Stones.

Marreth set aside his reflections. The storm was blowing furiously: he needed to make sure that the rigging of the ship was securely fastened. Marreth rose abruptly, rushed out into the hall, and barked to his two most loyal officers, Diera and Jarlyn, to follow him on deck. As he was checking the rigging at the bow, he saw in the distance a large sailing vessel being tossed about by the waves. He could barely make out the distinctively swan-like outline of an Elven ship. He lurched forward in astonishment, clinging to the rail, and tried to get a clearer look. He had only seen such vessels in the ancient lore books that he had read. His second reaction was one of anger. Such a ship could only be drawn to the Ice Bay for the same reason that he was. They must be here to take the Stones for themselves and their allies the Gondorians.

Marreth roared out above the din of the storm, “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!” Then he turned to his captains, pointing an accusing finger towards the bobbing ship, “Look there, we have company, and I fear they are up to no good!”

[piosenniel]

Niluial's post

Elwë shuddered as the brawling, icy wind punched him with a giant fist of cold as the thunder roared and crackled above him. The prying fingers of the cold groped through the layers of woollen undergarments, forcing his cold touch upon him. He took a darting look at Andtuariel who was standing with her hands clutched on the railing of the ship and her head hanging over the edge. Her face was as white as a ghost, her lovely rosy cheeks were gone. Andtuariel's eyes that were normally filled with expression were now sad and lifeless. Elwë always knew it was a bad idea to take her with him; she missed her family greatly and was seasick permanently. He knew he should have forced her to stay but she refused to:

”I will go where I wish! I need adventure, you know how I long for adventure, how I dream to fight for good, just as much as you long for it. I may be a woman but I am strong. Please…” Andtuariel pleaded with Elwë.

“Andtuariel, I said no! You can go look after our families, I’ll be back. You could endanger yourself, be harmed then what am I to do?”

He remembered how stubborn she was the day he said she would stay behind. He couldn’t make her stay; she threatened to follow which would have been even more dangerous.

Elwë wiped the rain off his face with his bleeding hands and sighed deeply. He dragged once more at the ropes of the sails but they were too big and heavy and refused to move. He winced as the ropes bit into his flesh which caused more blood and pain. Elwë glanced at the running tide and saw a massive wave break, the water sprayed onto the deck, sending Elwë and Andtuariel to the floor and wetting all the sailors that were hard at work, pumping water and wrestling with the sails on the deck.

Elwë stood and dragged himself up from the floor with difficulty, as his clothes were drenched. He peered at the wild sea again but this time he didn't only see mist and lightening but something else. Elwë squinted and sighed miserably, “I was hoping they wouldn’t be here so soon.”

Andtuariel peered at the ship in the distance in wonder, “who is it?” she paused while studying the black sailed dromonds with a puzzled expression on her face, she clutched onto the rails of the ship, "Its not the C.. Cor...?" Andtuariel stuttered.

“Of course it is the ship of the corsairs!” Elwë snapped. “We were expecting them, didn't you know? You can be so naïve and to think you have spent so much time on a ship and have read so much! We are here to keep the Corsairs from getting the Palantíri!” he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

He glanced at their bobbing ship once again in wonder and curiosity. Deep down he was awed by the corsairs, amazed at their will and perseverance, all for the Palantiri. They had left their Southern Climate, into the cold to search for the stones. Even with this wonder for them, he knew that they were dangerous, that they would not hesitate to kill them all.

[piosenniel]

Arry’s post

Carandû clamped his wide-brimmed hat down firmly on his head, tying it securely, as he left the protection of the hatch way. The hat was of tightly woven fiber, covered with thin, cured sealskin. It kept the rain from his eyes as it pounded down on the ship, but did little to save his face from being drenched by the waves as they crossed the bar into the bay. It was his oilskin pants and overcoat that protected him from the main onslaught of the frigid waters. Inside the haven of the ice bay, the waters were at least a little calmer. Though, you can’t tell by him!, he thought, eyeing the figure of Rôg clinging for dear life to the ship’s railing as his stomach protested the mixing of the his last meal with the heaving of the ship. Carandû’s earlier offer to tie the man to the railing so that he wouldn’t pitch overboard had been waved away by Rôg. It had been with some reluctance that he’d left the green-tinged fellow on deck, but then he’d noted the deathlike grip Rôg had on the railing. And apparently it had kept him safe from the overwashing waves.

Annû, he could see, was up on the main cross spar, shinnying back toward the rope ladder with its ratlines that ran down the length of the mast. The sails, on his side, were secured. He saw his brother make some sign to the other who had gone up with him – it looked, though as if the other one had also managed to secure his sections and needed no assist. Carandû waved for his brother to come to him once his feet had hit the deck. ‘I’ve brought your boots and a pair of dry socks,’ he said, pulling Annû beneath the shelter of a small overhang near the wheelhouse. ‘Get them on before your toes fall off!’ Annû grinned at his older brother and ducked a friendly cuff as he replied with a ‘Yes, ammë!’

‘I saw something when I was up top,’ Annû said, jamming his feet into his boots. ‘Over there, as the gull flies, from where Rôg is hanging on. To the right, where that glacier comes down to the lip of the bay.’ He pulled his brother to the railing, slipping along on the slippery and still wave-tossed deck. Narrowing their eyes, they peered off toward a shallow cove at the edge of the bay.

‘She’s a trim vessel,’ grunted Carandû, his brow furrowing at the far-off sight of the Corsair ship. ‘I’ll give her that. They’re well anchored, I see.’ He pursed his lips and hmmphed at the sight, wondering how familiar the captain of the vessel was in these far northern waters.

‘I know,’ commented his brother, picking up on his thought. ‘They don’t keep moving her along the coastline or pull her out to deeper waters, she’ll be bound fast in the ice by week’s end.’

‘Easier for us, though, if she does get stuck!’ Carandû turned questioningly toward his brother. ‘You know – in all the berths we’ve had with Luindal, I can’t recall us ever coming this far north on the Sea-Spirit at this time of year. Old Captain Ferrin’s ship – yes; Remember? He liked to come up in the early spring before the thaws, get the first of the thick winter pelts in trade.’ He looked expectantly at his brother.

‘Oh, no! You’re not giving me the job of questioning the Captain! You do it; you’re the one who thought of it.’ Annû pulled his jacket tighter about him and nodded toward the stairway leading below-deck.

Carandû sighed, and nodded he’d think of some way to approach the subject. ‘But first let’s sample a small taste of the Spirit’s spirits; fortify my courage, so to speak. I hear tell that Cap’n Luindal’s laid in some of the sweet, fiery brandy-wine from The Star and Swan.’

Before turning to go, the two offered their assistance to Rôg who seemed to mumble something in the way of an affirmative. Arms hooked through his as support, the trio made their way to the stair and down.

[piosenniel]

Taralphiel’s post

“Hmmm…today should prove to be interesting…”

Freyn rolled his shoulder slowly, before stretching his arms out wide and letting out a bellow of a yawn before the front of his home. His wife was in the nearest room, mixing some warm soup for breakfast.

“What makes you say that, love?” She smiled up at him, slowly turning her spoon.

“I have that feeling, it hardly ever steers me wrong. We are in for a change, love. Perhaps a very good one. I cannot tell just yet…”

She looked back at her pot “Everyone here would agree we need a good change. The only things to blow in here have been those Corsair ships. Those I do not like…”

Freyn sighed. “Aye, I do not know what they are up to, I’ve not been so fortunate to find out. I do know they bring a bad air and a misfortune that works against what we already have…”

Freyn walked down through the light new snow, peering out over the Bay. Few ships or even small boats were there, the ice was already packed thick around the Bay and could crush them through the night. This morning was particularly rough, and the clouds frowned angrily over the white coastline, turning them a grey hue. Freyn had felt a storm come in during the night, so this was no surprise to him. Through the winds and soupy mist, Freyn laboured to see anything with his ageing eyes. But he let out a grumble when he turned away from the ocean.

“I must be dreaming... I think there may be a ship out there. By the look of it, it is definitely no Corsair vessel. How strange…”

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel’s post:

“Come Rodhal!” Galhardir cried as he waved his small hand towards the young lad. “We must hurry!” he continued. Rodahl ran as fast as he could with his thin legs towards his uncle.

“I’m comin’ uncle,” the boy muttered as he reached him, breathing heavily. Galhardir patted him on the shoulder. “Rodahl, you’ll get me next time…I know you will,” he said and smiled.

Ever since Rodahl could walk, the two of them had been running races. Rodhal, poor lad, had never been able to beat his uncle, since he had a far stronger body with longer legs. Everytime however, his uncle told him that he would beat him next time. “You’re too fast for me, uncle,” Rodhal said looking at him, still trying to ctah his breath. “Well, I’ve got lot of practice. You just wait, until you get a bit older. Your old uncle won’t stand a chance,” Galhardir said, smiling at his nephew. “Really?” Rodhal asked him as his eyes lightened up a bit. “Definitely,” Galhardir stated.

“You should go eat your dinner now, you’re parents are calling for you,” Galhardir said as he heard his very own brother calling for Rodahl.

“Alright then,” Rodhal said, seeming a bit disappointed. “Oh, lighten up, Rodhal. You can follow me to the harbour tomorrow. Right now, you should eat your dinner…Besides, I won't go down to it..just do some scouting on the top of the small hill. You won't miss anything, I assure you,” Galhardir said, patting the boy on the shoulder, as they both walked towards the ice hole.

“Rodhal, my dear boy, what have you and your uncle been up to today?” Gonlahr asked his son as they approached him. He greeted his brother while he smiled. “Oh, we’ve been running…” Rodhal started, with a huge smile around his face. “Those races again, I assume?” Gonlahr interrupted looking at Rodhal. “Indeed,” Galhardir confirmed. “I just told him that he ought to eat his dinner so he’ll run faster,” he then continued. “Well, your uncle is right!” Gonlahr said patting his by, leading him inside the hole. Gunnhild appeared in front of them, telling them that the food was ready.

As Galhardir turned and was about to leave, his brother asked him if he wouldn’t stay and eat with them. “Oh no, thank you brother,” he started. “I’m not hungry, although I thank you. I’m heading down to the harbour right now,” Galhardir said and went out. A rush wind hit him in the face. The wind was cold and he shuddered.

“Do you really think it’s good to go down there now?” Gonlahr asked him sounding a bit concerned for his brother. “There seems to be a storm coming up…if not here, certainly further down the bay. Maybe it’ll just hit the ocean, I’m not sure,” Gonlahr said, looking out at the sky. There were dark clouds coving the most of it, and the wind was only increasing its strength.

“I’ll take my chances,” Galhardir said, amused by his brother’s concern. “It wouldn’t surprise me, brother. The weather has never been an obstacle for you, has it now?” Gonlahr replied while laughing. “Hurry up then,” Gonlhar said and waved his brother off. But before Galhardir could make another step, Rodhal appeared. “Can’t I go with him, father?” he asked innocently. “No, the weather doesn’t look too good. You should stay at home,” Gonlahr said. He almost regretted that as he saw the boy’s face expression. “Please father…I’ve eaten my dinner,” he continued, almost sounding desperate. “Have you asked your mother?” Gonlahr then asked Rodhal. The boy nodded. “Let him come…” Galhardir then interrupted. “I promise to bring him back before night strikes,” he continued.

Silence.

“Alright then,” Gonlahr said unwillingly. Rodhal’s face lit up once again as he dressed himself in more proper clothes. “Thank you father,” he said as Gonlahr embraced his son showing both of them off. Galhardir then started to run, expecting to see his nephew in his heels almost instantly.

The harbour wasn’t far of, and they reached it, not quite out of breath yet. One could definitely see that the weather was getting worse as the cold wind hit them in their faces. Up the short hill and they could see the harbour. They stood behind a rock, so it would protect them from the roughest wind. They had a nice view over the ocean and some parts of the harbour though.

“It’s lightening!” Rodhal cried at his uncle as he spotted a short glint of light across the sea. Indeed, it had been lightening Galhardir thought, as another glint of light struck down. As they scouted to the sea, Rodhal noticed something getting closer to the harbour. It had been hard to spot before, but now it seemed quite clear. It was a ship!

“Uncle! It’s a ship! Down ‘ere!”

“What?” Galhardir muttered, looking in Rodhal’s direction. “Down ‘ere!” he continued, pointing just beneath the rock. Galhardir took some steps forward, leaning over the rock. To his big surprise there was a ship trying to make it in. The wind and the big waves were making it difficult for them. “What ship is out in weather like this?” Galhardir questioned himself.

As he leaned even more over the rock, he spotted the Corsair’s ship on the other side. Therefore, these new ones couldn’t be Corsairs, could they? He held on to that thought as he found it quite pleasing. As long as it wasn’t Corsairs….because he simply couldn’t stand another amount of corsairs interfering with their lives. “Who do you reckon' it is, uncle?” Rodhal asked, interrupting Galhardir’s thinking. “I’m not sure, boy,” he replied, still watching the ship. He could see that they had great difficulties controlling it. How would they make it into the harbour, he wondered.

“It’s not…corsairs, is it?” Rodhal then asked. His voice was thin and frightened. “Hopefully not,” Galhardir replied, feeling great anger. If it really was another ship with Corsairs he didn’t know what to think, nor do. But he wouldn’t stand still, not doing anything - that he knew for sure. He wouldn’t let them treat the Lossoth as they had treated them so far. It wasn’t acceptable, and it had to be stopped. “Oh wait…” Galhardir exclaimed. “These people are elves!” he continued. “How do you know that uncle?” Rodhal asked him with great curiosity. A slight of relief struck both of them. “The ship. I think I know when I see an Elven ship,” Galhardir muttered. “It has to be,” he then continued, overwhelmingly satisfied.

“We need to tell this to your father!” Galhardir exclaimed, fetching the boy by his arm. “Come,” Galhardir then said, starting to walk hurriedly down the short hill. As they reached the bottom, they ran as fast as their legs could possibly carry them; Rodhal was even a few paces in front of his Uncle.

[piosenniel]

Lalwendë's post

Tarn looked out of the door at the brewing storm with an angry look on his face. He had to go and feed his seals and leave the warmth of his new stone hut behind him. He felt such pride in having been able to build this humble dwelling that he did not like to leave it. One of his cronies, Talsson, was slumped by the fire in a drunken stupor. They had been playing knucklestones and Talsson had lost his money to Tarn. The agreement had been that if Talsson wanted another game then he would have to offer the labour of his son, Thynne, to Tarn. The man, drunk as he was, knew that the labour would not be handsomely rewarded, and he knew that he could lose the profits he normally gained from hiring out the lad, but he would not lose face, so the deal was done.

Thynne, a well-fed fourteen year old, sat in the corner of the hut on a pile of furs, staring at Tarn, wondering whether his new job was a good thing or a stroke of bad luck. Tarn looked at the lad and motioned with his head towards the door.

“Get yourself wrapped up, there‘s a storm coming in. You will come with me now and start by learning how to feed the seals” Tarn watched as the youth scrambled into his warm clothes. “I suppose you can swim?”.

Tarn was the seal handler, but he rarely went into the water these days. He paid those with little hope, such as Thynne, to do this for him. He himself had survived by carrying out hard labour such as this when he left the family, so he didn’t see any harm in others making a living this way. Sometimes, he thought he was doing them a favour. If he’d had any children of his own then he’d have had them working with the seals as soon as they could walk, and that would be for free. But this lad looked strong and bright enough, he might have hired him anyway, had his father not been such a drunken idiot and offered him at half the going rate.

*********

Tarn stood a bucket of fish on a flat rock by the side of the water and let out a long, piercing whistle. The lad pursed his lips and tried to copy him. Tarn laughed. “I suggest you get some practice in, though I doubt you’ll ever truly master it the way I have. Watch me.”

Again he whistled, and ten sleek bodies came towards them through the water. The dog-like faces of the seals surfaced; they could smell the fish and came right up to the edge of the rock, circling and crying. The smallest one heaved itself out of the water, and his head bobbed up and down expectantly.

“This is the youngest, I think you could start with him,“ Tarn said to the lad, who had stepped back a little from the creature. “No need to be afraid of him, he’s learning just like yourself”. Tarn put one of the silvery fish into Thynne’s hand and the lad gingerly offered it to the young seal, who carefully took it, and slipped back into the water. Tarn quickly threw more fish out to the older seals, to keep them from taking the fish from the youngster.

“Why did he have a golden tag in his ear?” said the boy, suddenly finding his voice.

“That,” said Tarn, “Is how they are identified as my own seals. As soon as one is born I put the golden ring into his ear, and then anyone knows that he is mine. If one were to be hunted, then that hunter would have to pay dearly, probably with more wealth than that of five chieftains.” Thynne looked shocked. “But that, thankfully, has never yet come to pass. And these fine sailors, they seem to appreciate their worth as much as I do.” Tarn looked solemnly towards the cliffs, where the masts of the Corsair ship were rolling to and fro in the swell.

Tarn admired the Corsairs, with their proud bearing and fierce talk. He was eager to do well for them, partly because he might get greater rewards, but also because he wished to earn their respect. He was starting to form notions of making some kind of allegiance with them. Tarn did not exactly fawn around the Corsairs, as grovelling was not in Tarn's nature, but he made sure to impress upon them how invaluable he was, and made great show of both his skill with the seals and what he considered his status among the other Lossoth.

Tarn and Thynne threw out more fish, and several seals came out of the water, nudging Tarn’s legs with affection, which prompted him to scratch their necks. He started to do a few of his training rituals while the lad stood and watched, shivering in the driving rain and wind. He was hungry and licked the remains of the fish from his gloves. Having finished this, he squinted out to sea, where his attention was caught by a ship being tossed about on the waves.

Tarn soon noticed that the lad wasn’t paying him any attention. “Look sharp, lad, or it’s just the diving you’ll be doing. Thought you were brighter than that.” He looked up to see what Thynne was peering at and he soon picked out the shape of a white ship trying to tack into the bay.

“By the stars…”

[piosenniel]

Rinfanawen's post

Diera stood in the tight hall below deck trying to concentrate on the ship and what needs needed to be met. She was cold. Long had her journey to this forgotten land in the North kept her in freezing temperatures, but she tries not to think of it very often. The ship continued to toss violently on the waves. She felt her nerves rise inside of her as she thought of the rolling waves and pouring rain outside.

As much as she tried to force her mind away from the pressing storm, the only though she could think to was the thought of the Lossoth. Strange creatures they were to her. Those who actually found comfort in such places as this land were certainly not those of her liking, but Marreth found success in them, so she had to continue to trust in the odd Snowmen of the North. Snowmen they were, indeed. Diera knew that they were sent to this land for a purpose, and perhaps that purpose was to help them recover the lost Palantiri. She only hoped.

Diera began to think strongly on the matter of the Palantiri. We've been searching for so long, she thought. Those hopeless natives have helped us little...but not anymore. As soon as this storm ends, I will take my request to Marreth to get more Lossoth to join in our search. They must help. They are the only ones who have adapted to this wretched land well enough to stay under the water long enough. Our people have suffered too much. Far too long...

Suddenly her thoughts were broken by footsteps coming down the hall. She jumped slightly, solely for the reason that she was torn so quickly from thinking, as her friend and fellow shipmate, Doyal, turned the corner. He seemed troubled as well. Water dripped from his clothing as he walked.

"It feels as if it's going to blow us over up there," Doyal sighed as he approached Diera. "The storm has picked up a bit."

Diera stared at him in shock. She spoke in great sarcasm, "Even more? Great, and I was just beginning to get my mind off of the tidal waves outside."

"What's your problem? I thought you loved the sea...more than anything, you say," said Doyal.

"There is no problem," replied Diera seriously. "I think we should get back on deck anyway now that the storm has worsened."

Diera and her shipmate began to walk towards the entrance to the deck, but they were stopped quickly by an order from Marreth...to follow him on deck. Diera said nothing of the order and did as her captain commanded. She barely made it out of the door before Marreth was at the rail and staring at what appeared to be an Elven ship on the rushing waves.

"Look there," Marreth said as he turned to Doyal and Diera. "We have company, and I fear they are up to no good."

Diera stared at the distant vessel in anger as she thought of the risk the Palantiri were in of falling into evil hands. The Elves were not going to find them...no matter what it took.

[piosenniel]

Kitanna's post

The wind was violent today and Nilak was relieved to finally be safe in the cabin of the Corsair ship. He had been out in the storm helping to secure the rigging. It had been a hard day and for Nilak it was only getting worse.

Sitting before him in the cabin was Sernir, who was whittling away at a piece of wood. His face was angry and his eyes were just little slits in his face. “You said you had the best trained seals in the land. Yet here you are with nothing.” Sernir put down his dagger and the piece of wood. His grey eyes bore into Nilak’s, but still Nilak held his ground. “You are as worthless as all the other Lossoths.”

“I am doing what I can.” Nilak responded in the calmest voice he could find. Sernir was testing his patience.

“Need I remind you what is at stake? If you do not find this treasure then you will get nothing.” The Corsair could tell he had hit a nerve. This Lossoth was driven by his greed and Sernir could use that as motivation. Sernir rose from his seat and walked to the window of his cabin. He was looking at nothing, just staring blankly into space thinking of all he would gain if the Lossoth found the Stones first. Then he thought of what he would lose if Nilak failed.

“It is getting colder every waking hour and the storm is getting more violent. Soon even my seals will not be able to dive for these precious stones of yours.” Nilak said. Sernir stopped gazing out the window and glared at Nilak once more. “You ask the impossible of me. What is so important about these Stones anyway?”

“That’s none of your business!” Sernir snapped. He was about to say something else, but Nilak had completely turned his attention away. The Lossoth was now looking out the window. “What are you looking at, scum?”

“That ship coming into the dock.”

Nilak could hear Marreth screaming out to the ship. “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!”

Sernir’s expression had changed and now he too watched the ship intently. “Who are they?”

“Elves and now it is more pressing than ever that we find those stones.” Sernir looked back at Nilak. “Now we must crush the Elves or we will get nothing from this.”

Nilak nodded. “I will find your treasure before the Elves do. No matter what it takes.”

[piosenniel]

Imladris' post - Jarlyn

Jarlyn slammed his fist on the table. “These Snowmen,” he said, “are not doing their jobs.” He glanced at the empty chair opposite him. He wanted to complain to Marreth. Tell him that he thought that the Snowmen were purposely being slow. Why did they want the Seeing Stones anyway? Business was grand without them. Having them could only cause trouble. What one didn’t know couldn’t harm one.

Jarlyn grimaced and sighed. Marreth wanted to do Castamir’s bidding as a vehicle for revenge for his father’s death. But as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t Elessar’s fault that his dear daddy had died. It had technically been that dread army of the Dead’s fault but as one could not take revenge upon the Dead then Marreth had to content himself with revenging himself on King Elessar. Thought how that would make any difference Jarlyn was at a loss to fathom.

He was jolted from his musing by Marreth ordering him on deck to check the rigging. As he was checking a knot, to make sure it was secure, he heard Marreth shout, “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!”

“Well, if they sink,” Jarlyn muttered, “then we’re very liable to sink ourselves…”

But Marreth didn’t notice this comment and said, “Look there, we have company, and I fear they are up to no good!”

Jarlyn chortled. Considering that elves were good it was a bit of an oxymoron that they were up to no good. He stifled his laughter and said, “Well, we haven’t been successful and we’ve been here for how long? Honestly, they won’t be able to find the Stones either.”

[piosenniel]

Imladris' post - Jynne

Jynne craned his neck to the shoulder, listening to the bone creak with morbid pleasure. He peered into the gloom, towards the coast where the duped Snowmen would be huddling together against the fury of the storm. A little sneer curled about his thin lips. He remembered their naivety as the Corsairs had pulled into harbour. Some had thought the Corsairs would be their friends, that they would actually make them chiefs over their various tribes. A laugh almost escaped him. If anything, a trusted Corsair would be made the Snowmen’s leader. But the more they were deluded, the better able were they to control and manipulate them as a potter at work with his clay.

Behind him, Nilak and Senir were arguing with each other. A thin smile stretched his thin face. These Snowmen had not been successful in finding the drowned Seeing Stones. Their silly seals had come up spluttering and breathless and empty handed every time they dived. His eyebrows shrugged slightly. But what else was to be expected? They were power mongers, grovelling at the chance for power and control.

The Seeing Stones must be found. With them Castamir could spy upon his enemies, listen to covert secrets whispered in the darkness.

[piosenniel]

Elves are a helpful lot, thank the stars . . . especially these two . . . This comforting thought slid through Rôg’s mind as Carandû and Annû grasped him firmly under the arms and walked him from the rail and down the hatchway steps to the galley below. Despite the buffeting winds, the protected waters of the bay were indeed calmer. He felt his stomach settle down into some semblance of normalcy as they entered the small kitchen area. His nose took in the steamy scent of new brewed tea.

‘Think I could have a cup of that?’ he asked, seating himself at the small table. The Elf at the stove looked him over, taking in the chalky appearance behind the normal olive tinge. ‘Peppermint, perhaps . . . and a little honey, for you,’ the Elf laughed, whisking the pot of regular tea out of Rôg’s reach. ‘What about you two?’ he said, waving two clean mugs toward Carandû and his brother. In the same breath, he asked about what they had seen above-deck. Others of the crew had come down with news of sighting the Corsair ship. From what he could glean from their hurried reports he knew there was only one . . . but how big was she, he wondered. And had they seen any longboats in the water or near the shore. Or any of the skin-boats of the Lossoth tied up to the ship?

Rôg shrugged his shoulders at the Elf’s questions. He actually hadn’t seen the ship, having been otherwise occupied with his perusal of the waves slapping at the sides of the Sea-Spirit. Accepting the welcome mug of honeyed tea from Elf’s hands, he blew across it to cool it a bit. ‘What about you two,’ he said, between small sips of the fragrant liquid. ‘You see anything like that?’

[Arry]

Carandû nodded his head to the offer of a hot drink. His brother chuckled under his breath as he hung all their oilskins on the pegs outside the galley. ‘I heard that!’ Carandû snorted, handing his brother a mug of the welcome drink when he’d entered the room. ‘I’ve not forgotten my taste for the brandy-wine, brother mine. Just warming up to it first.’

Annû sat down at the table, across from Rôg. ‘The ship was a large one, but sleek. Fast, I’ll wager, in open water. And set up for attack and defense I’d also say. She was between us and the far shore, though, couldn’t see if any boats were tied up to her port side.’ He took a gulp of his tea and raised his brows at his brother who leaned against the door’s frame.

‘No, I saw no boats.’ Carrandû shifted his back against the wood, trying to find a more comfortable position. ‘You know, though, I think we might have sailed far enough beyond their position to catch a glimpse.’ He gave up his quest for the perfect spot and sat at the table with the others. ‘Have you seen the Captain come below,’ he asked the Elf who’d made the tea.

‘Not yet,’ said the Elf refilling Rôg’s mug. ‘He’s the one we should probably be asking. I’d imagine he’s had his spyglass trained on them since first sighting.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Luindal had found safe harbor for the Spirit in a cove sheltered from the worst of the storm. Slowly, the wind and rain subsided. He had berthed the Elven swanship a considerable distance from the Corsair vessel and now it bobbed up and down in shallow waters on the western side of the Bay. The Spirit’s sails had been tied back onto the masts, and her anchor tossed over the side to rest on the muddy bottom.

Both ships were now positioned far enough from the shoreline that there was no danger either would collide with the burgeoning ice banks that ringed the edge of the Bay. The captains could, however, see each other's vessels.

Several hours had passed since their first arrival; the sun was sinking lower. Most of the crew remained below enjoying a well-earned respite from their arduous labor over the past week and chatting about the task that lay before them. Delicious odors, merry words, and snatches of song poured up through the open grill-hatches. Luindal caught the whiff of dinner and heard the voices of his companions speaking his name below. He would have preferred to go downstairs to join them and see how his friend Rôg was doing. But, at the moment, he had something else to do.

Leaning against the rail, he peered through his spyglass. A party of twenty had congregated on the coast. Each man climbed into a small coracle constructed of ash lathes and overlaid with hazel that was woven much like a basket. To make sure that the boats would not let in water, the Snowmen had smeared pitch over the outside frames. Each coracle was similar to the one Luindal had built as a youngster to ply the streams of Lorien. He watched as the Lossoth maneuvered their craft into the water using long poles, but then shifted to paddles when they progressed out deeper.

These looked to be the same folk Rôg had described. Many wore leggings and boots with thick fur mittens and parkas. Even from the deck, Luindal could see the gleem of hunting knives and axes hanging suspended from their belts. These men looked totally different than any other he had known. Yet he suspected that they had feelings about their own land that were not too different than the way his own Elves felt about theirs.

As the boats drew closer, the leader of the Snowmen signaled an intent to come aboard. Luindal watched in fascination as the solitary Lossoth climbed the ladder and clambered awkwardly over the railing, walking onto the deck. When the leader threw back a thick fur hood, Luindal was even more surprised to see that the face now revealed was that of a woman. She was small and sturdy with dark eyes and hair that hung down in two grey plaits tied back with scraps of leather. He could not have guessed her age. Among her people, she would have been counted an Elder.

“Alahseey. I am Alahseey,” she hastily explained, speaking perfect Westron. “I bring new from the Elders. They have asked me to come and speak with you. With me are the Lossoth who will help you to find the missing stones. They each know a bit of Westron, enough that you may talk with them.”

Luindal looked down at the coracles, each filled with a volunteer or two, and smiled readily at the welcome news. For a short time the two sat together on the deck speaking privately about how the Lossoth might best be used and what should be done next. By now, the small boats were tied up in a line and attached to the starboard side. Then Luindal beckoned the Snowmen to come aboard and to follow him down the ladder to greet the Elves.

*************************

There was silence below at the first sight of the strange new recruits, but it was quickly broken by the round of introductions. Alahseey brought forward each of the Lossoth volunteers in turn. The last to be introduced were Freyn and Galhardir, along with the latter's nephew Rodhal whose parents had finally consented that he come along, and Hilda Halvardsdatter who had been assigned to do a bit of cooking for the Elves as well as to tidy up the cabins on shipboard. Elwën and Andturariel nodded their head in greeting, while Carrandû and Annûlas came forward to welcome the new arrivals. After a few moments of chatting and a round of drinks, they all sat down together to listen to what Luindal and Alahseey had to say.

"Your help is most welcome," Luindal addressed Alahseey first and then smiled in the direction of the other volunteers. "I know little of these regions or its waters. We will rely heavily on your own knowledge and common sense for, without that, I am quite sure we will never find the Stones. As to what these Stones can do, .... and why the Corsairs would want them? I have heard some say they are magic, but that is not so. "

"It is more like the harpoon that you carry. In the hands of many, it is a dead and lifeless thing because they lack skill. For some, it becomes an instrument of killing and they strike out unwisely at other men. But for still others it is an instrument that gives life: a tool to be used with great skill so that they can feed and cloth their family. So too it is with the Stones. To those who know and understand the old tales, these Stones can be used for good purposes, for talking across long distances. But for those with evil intent, they can become instruments of enslavement or torture. This is what we must stop."

"Alahseey and I have agreed. We will begin the search in the great cave that fronts on the bay. The tide is low, much lower than usual, and it is possible that these things lost at Sea may now be found along the shoreline. The Corsairs have searched all the smaller caves already: only the great one is left. We will begin in the morning."

Bear turned an ashen face towards Luindal and queried, "The Great Cavern? That which we call the House of the Dead?" He shook his head and scowled. "But that is a terrible place. Even the Corsairs would not go there. The passages are so narrow that it is hard to get through. Some of the ground looks good and solid, but when you place your foot down it sinks into the mud or even breaks through the crust to deep water underneath. Parts of the cave floor are slick with ice, and I will not even mention the boulders scattered over the hillside always ready to come crashing down on the heads of the unwary. Surely you can not mean to start there?"

Luindal sighed. "Aye, mean it I do! Alahseey has looked at the maps and says this is the most likely place for the Stones to have settled, if they came onto the shore. We will begin at sunrise tomorrow. I would advise everyone to keep your festivities short and get some sleep tonight for tomorrow could be most difficult."

With that, Luindal walked over to Rôg and whispered a few hushed words in his ear. Then he gave instructions as to where the Lossoth would be housed on board, and asked Hilde to secure some provisions in town before nightfall. He escorted Alahseey back to her small boat, saying goodbye, but was surprised to see her paddling east across the Bay in the general direction of the Corsair vessel.

[Arry]

Carandû was pleasantly surprised at his first face to face meeting with the Lossoth. He’d only been on a very few trading voyages into the Ice Bay, and those only near the opening to the inlet. He was a mere seaman, and so he had not been sent out in the longboats with the traders who made the deals with the Lossoth hunters. None of the Lossoth had come aboard on those voyages, either. And all he could recall from those trips was that the men were broad in stature and maneuvered their boats deftly in the frigid waters as they came out to meet the trading boats (or at least he thought they were men – they were all clothed in thick furs and often had their fur-lined hoods pulled up around their heads). He’d often wondered what sort of creatures lurked beneath the layers of fur and leather.

Annû and he had gravitated toward a younger man, Galhardir, and his young nephew who accompanied him. Like the two Elven brothers, Galhardir was a merry fellow. Easy in strange company. A quite charming man, really with an infectious laugh. His small, deft hands flew like quick birds in the air before him as he spoke, emphasizing points and almost drawing pictures for his listeners to see.

And Rodhal, his nephew, was a rare treat for the two brothers. A skinny little thing, nine year’s old, with green eyes and freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. A delight for the two brothers because among the Elves living in the havens, there were very few children. Like his uncle, he was quite charming in his own quiet way. And it was engaging how the lad followed his uncle’s lead in his interactions with the Elves.

‘I wonder,’ said Carandû, finishing his mug of tea, and noticing that Rodhal was making a vain attempt to hide his tired yawns from them. ‘Since you’re staying aboard and setting out with us for that cavern in the morning – would you like to bunk in with us?’ Annû nodded his head at this suggestion. ‘We’ve a small cabin below deck – but it’s got 2 pair of bunk-beds,’ continued Carandû. ‘You would be most welcome to use one of them, while we use the other.’ He smiled widely at Galhardir and Rodhal. ‘What do you say?’

Galhardir was about to reply when Annû spoke up. There was something that had been nagging at him ever since Luindal had spoken of the plan he and the old woman, Alahseey, had agreed on. ‘One other question, Galhardir, nothing to do with sleeping arrangements, though . . . I noticed that when Captain Luindal said Alahseey had suggested we search the Great Cavern – many of your peoples’ faces blanched, and there were some looks of fear on a number of them.’ He paused for a moment not wanting to upset the boy, but wanting more information than had been given. ‘The House of the Dead, someone called it. Just how dangerous a place is it do you think?’

[Orofaniel]

Galhardir sighed as he heard Annû's question; first of all, he knew less about it than other men of his kind, second; it frightened him - even speaking of it made him anxious.

"The cave of the dead..." Galhardir muttered while looking at his nephew. Of course little Rodhal had been spared for all details when it had been talked of earlier; it wasn't appropriate to speak of such a place before such young ears. Annû noticed Galhardir's concerned look, but took no heed of it as he seemed curious about the cave. "Rodahl, you don't mind taking a short walk around the ship, do you?" Galhardir then asked him. Rodhal shrugged, but thought it could be quite exiting as he had never been on a ship before. He therefore gladly accepted this deal, and went for the door. "Be careful now, boy, and don't get into trouble," Galhardir then said, teasingly, as he knew how polite and kind his nephew was. The small boy smiled broadly as he left. "I'm sorry..." Annû then muttered. "No, it's alright," Galhardir then said. "I just don't want to frighten him, that's all," he continued.

"Well," Galhardir started nervously. "I know less about this cave then many of my kind, just so you are aware of it," he claimed. "I've been told many stories; however, few of them are true." Annü listened carefully while Galhardir was talking. "They say that the narrow, dark paths will make any man frightened of what really lies within the cave. It's very dangerous as rocks are falling down from the walls. Some say they fall down from "nothing", as they can't see it because of the great darkness. It has been said that as you walk the path disappears under your feet, which makes it difficult, or even impossible to return the same way you came. But since there are many small paths you still have a fear chance...but only if you find the right one. Those who venture within the cave cannot be sure to ever come out...That's for sure."

Annû swallowed, while Carandû gazed at him. They had been listening carefully to everything Galhardir had said and they were obviously not keen about it.

"Well, that's what they have told me," Galhardir then said, looking at the two elves, who hadn't said one single word after Galhardir had finished explaining. "I, personally, do not believe in it fully, although I do think some elements are true," he then stated. "Do not be afraid; most of it is probably made up by those who were too frightened to enter," he said, laughing a bit as he trying to seem more relaxed about it than he really was. The two others were still silent and amazed by what he had said.

"Y-you're probably right...." Annû then managed to mutter, looking at Carandû, who nodded politely. "I do not see a reason why people should lie about this cave though..." he then said, looking at Galhardir. "Nor do I," he then answered. "But some things are just made up, or exaggerated a little...or some times; quite a lot..."

Galhardir wasn't allowed to finished his sentence before Rodhal stormed in. "Uncle, it is amazing!" the boy said enthusiastically, dragging Galhardir by the arm. Galhardir laughed. "I knew you'd like it!"

"I almost fell over board!" Rodhal then exclaimed, merrily. "No you didn't!" Galhardir said teasingly as the boy laughed. "I'm joking uncle," Rodhal then giggled. "Oh..you almost had me there! You frightened me!" Galhardir then replied, smiling widely.

Annû and Carandû had then finally started to think about other things and joined the conversation; "You liked it then, eh?"

"Yes, sir!" Rodhal said politely.

"But, Rodhal, it's time to go to bed now, don't you think?" Glahardir then said, looking at the boy; he was tired, he could tell by the boy's eyes. "Oh..not now uncle! You must come with me and see the ship!" Rodhal exclaimed, horrified by Galhardir's suggestion. "And I will – tomorrow perhaps," Galhardir said. "But now you and I must rest – as well as these two gentlemen," Galhardir then explained the boy, while his eyes were turned to Annû and Carandû. The two elven brothers were still amazed and utterly curious about the cave and Galhardir’s story, or so it seemed. And yet, this was only the short version….

[Regin Hardhammer]

When the storm had finally calmed somewhat, Marreth decided he had better check on the sailboats that were used to haul supplies across the bay. His ship was sturdy enough to take the repeated bashing from the violent waves and harsh wind, but the smaller vessels were flimsier and could use a thorough inspection. The crews search had been frustrating enough, Marreth thought; they did not need to exacerbate matters by losing their tools and rations.

As he walked down the path, Marreth began to reflect. What was he going to do about these new intruders? Surely, he reflected, the Elves’ arrival is not merely a coincidence.. They must mean to reach the stones before we do and take them for themselves. Then the urgency to find the Palantiri and give them to Castamir was that much greater, not to mention the danger posed by the patches of ice that were accumulating on the edges of the Bay. There was no way that he was going to let these pussyfooting Elves steal the stones from right under his nose. Despite all the obstacles standing in his way, a spirit of determination overflowed inside of him to complete this mission just as he had always done.

When he reached the sailing boats docked in a small harbor next to the main ship, Marreth thought he heard something moving in the bushes, but when he turned to see what it was, he saw nothing. The boats appeared to have weathered the storm fairly well and all of the masts, hulls, and rudders were intact. A few of the sails appeared to have slight tears in them that he would tell his men to fix as soon as he returned to the ship. As he turned to leave a dark, cloaked figure emerged from the side of the path where he had earlier heard the rustling.

Marreth drew his rapier and pointed it at this stranger. “Explain yourself!” he bellowed commandingly, “Who are you and what business do you have with me coming out of the shadows like this?”

The answer came swiftly. “I am a Lossoth who has some information that might be of interest to you. Have you seen these Elvish newcomers to the bay?” Marreth nodded. “They are also after those stones you seek.”

“I figured as much,” growled Marreth.

“Yes. But I can tell you where these fellows are going and what they will be doing. I can even tell you their plans so that you can lay ambushes and pounce on them. Are you interested?”

Marreth considered this strange offer and began to weigh his options. He did not even know who this Lossoth was. Although this seemed like an excellent opportunity to gain the upper hand on the Elves, Marreth realized that it could also be a trap. However, such an opportunity was too good to pass up. Reluctantly, Marreth nodded again and began to speak.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want? How do I know you speak the truth?”

“ I wish to take advantage of this opportunity to gain power. I do not take this power for myself, but for someone else who deserves it. The Corsairs are great and by providing you with vital information, I will be able to see something happen among my own people. I will need a goodly supply of gold and weapons.”

“Very well. That is possible,” said Marreth quietly. “Now tell me what you know.”

“They plan to search the great cave known as the Cave of the Dead. It is cold, dark, and very dangerous. There are parts that are extremely narrow and places where ground that seems solid slips under your feet. They will begin at sunrise tomorrow.”

“The Cave of the Dead” scoffed Marreth, “You lie. Even Elf vermin aren’t that stupid. That cave is so dangerous that even we dared not enter it in our search. If what your saying is true, then perhaps we should just wait for them to die there instead of going in after them. Entering the Cave of the Dead! Pure madness! Had that oafish Elf leader lost his mind?”

“No. I speak the truth. It was with great trepidation and fear that they decided to look there, but they seemed to think that it is the most likely place that they could find the Palantiri.”

“If you lie Snowmen, I swear I will have your head impaled on a pike! Do you hear me!” screamed Marreth. “I warn you,” ne continued in a calmer tone, “I shall meet you again out here in a couple of days if your information proves accurate. Watch for the flash of the lantern at sunset. Do not come to my ship, for I find it best that this be kept private for now. If you prove useful, I might just reward you. Now off with you.” With that, the Lossoth lumbered back into the bushes.

When Marreth returned to his ship, he gathered all of his crew for an announcement.
“Listen up mates, I have some new information here for all of you that will be very helpful in disposing of our new guests. The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them. I want advance scouts to go ahead and make sure the coast is clear before the rest of us go in.” That way, thought Marreth, we won’t get suck into any ambushes, even if it was a trap. “I don’t want any fighting yet, just spying. We have to know our enemy and evaluate them. I want to know how many they number and how many weapons they have. Maybe we can give them a little surprise. Any questions?”

Marreth always asked if there were any questions at the end, and there never were. He always told the crew exactly what they needed to know and they never dared to ask anything else, at least to his face. His officers would speak with him privately if they wished.

“Good. Everyone get a good night’s sleep and no getting drunk on rum. We all need to be fully alert tomorrow. I fear we have a rough day ahead of us.”

[piosenniel]

The ship was at rest, rocking a bit on the small waves that lapped toward the shore. Rôg thanked the fates for the respite from the normal motions of a ship on water and helped himself to a small, sweet treat that one of the Elves had put out for the gathered group. He was happy to see his old friend and guide, Bear, and motioned the man over with a wave of his mug held high in the air.

Bear’s normally ruddy face was rather pale as he came to stand by Rôg and his hands shook a bit as he accepted a mug of steaming tea from him. Rôg looked at him as he sipped his own drink, giving the man a chance to warm up before he spoke.

‘Something’s got the wind up you,’ commented Rôg as he poured the man a second cup of tea. ‘I’ve only see you like this once before – we were out on the ice fields far north of your village. You went very quiet, whispering to me.’ Bear nodded his head, the scene coming back to him. ‘I remember that,’ Bear said. ‘And I remember your own face when I told you that death itself was stalking us.’ The glimmer of a smile creased his face, then vanished. ‘Those were just the great Ice Bears who were trailing us that day . . . this is different.’ Bear shook his head in complete bafflement. ‘Why anyone would want to try a look in that cave is beyond me.’

‘Is it where you bury your dead?’ asked Rôg, trying to piece together the parts of the puzzle. ‘Do the spirits of your ancestors haunt the place?’

Bear snorted, choking on his tea at this question. ‘Spirits of the ancestors I could face. I’ve no bone to pick with them or they with me.’ He set his mug down on the table near him. ‘What I don’t want to hasten is joining those who have gone on! I’m far too young to be an ancestor! I’ve grown to relish my breathing if you catch my drift.’

‘Then what’s the problem?’ prodded Rôg.

Bear began to explain how treacherous the cave was. How the hill it was under sat on the edge of the bay and how the motion of the waters had eroded deeply into the interior of the hill. The opening was small, he went on, belying the enormity of the cave within. And much of it was half submerged beneath the waters, and more than half submerged when the tides came in at their fullest. It was dark within, of course, and fair piece of the way was iced – some places thinner than others. One could slip beneath the ice and not find a way back out. And worse yet the hill itself was of a crumbly sort of rock. Chunks were easily displaced within and without the cave, and if one were not careful, you could find yourself crushed by a rockslide. ‘In short,’ said Bear, summing up his opinion of the cave and of the Captain and Elder who had decided to attempt exploring it, ‘only fools would dare enter the cave!’

‘Well, the Captain’s no fool – but I’ll take your warning to heart. Perhaps we can talk this over in my cabin. Make some sort of plan to keep our group a little safer. What say you?’ Bear looked thoughtfully at Rôg, then spoke grimly. ‘The land here is unforgiving of the ignorant and the unprepared. I fear for us. We Lossoth will use all the skills that we have, but I cannot say it will be enough to keep us safe in the Great Cave.’

‘I have a few skills of my own,’ Rôg added, ‘and the Elves are not without some quick abilities. Let us work closely together and see how we fare.’ He rubbed his chin and shook his head at his next thought. ‘Far worse than the Great Cave will be the Corsairs should they retrieve those Stones the Captain spoke of. They are cruel men and will crush you as surely as any falling rock . . . the rock, though, will not relish your death as will they.’

Once Rôg had gotten Bear situated in his cabin, he begged off, saying he would return shortly. The Captain had asked to speak with him, and Rôg wanted to share what Bear had told him. He strode quickly down the companionway, passing Elves and Lossoth heading the opposite way to their quarters. In a few moments he stood before the Captain’s door. Rôg knocked lightly, calling in a low voice.

‘Luindal . . . are you there?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hearing a soft knock at the door accompanied by a familiar voice, Luindal glanced up from the piles of papers and maps he had been studying, which were still strewn haphazardly over his desk, "Come inside, Rôg. It's open. Please sit down." He gestured towards the seat opposite his own and noticed that his friend looked considerably better than the last time he'd seen him.

Luindal went immediately to the subject that was uppermost on both their minds. "The crew is concerned about tomorrow?"

"Yes, deeply concerned, and some are frightened, although they would never admit it." Rôg went on to explain some of the things Bear had shared with him concerning the cavern.

Luindal listened carefully to the description of the dangers and then suggested, "This Bear sounds as if he at least knows more than the rest of us. Perhaps he should be the one actually leading the party through the caverns as far as what path to take. I would gladly be led by someone who knows these parts better than I do."

"As far as the danger goes, he is certainly right. But Alahseey has told me that this is where the Elders feel the Stones would most likely be, half buried on the cave floor. Come have a look."

Luindal gestured towards two charts that were set side-by-side on his desk. "This one," the Elf explained, "is a copy of the map that Cirdan originally provided the ship that sailed to rescue Ardui. And here is the other that the Snowmen just gave me. See how much smaller the Bay is now. The Bay used to cover nearly all the caverns and hilly cliff, with only the topmost peak showing above the waterline. All that would have been iced over in early spring and it is possible that a ship could have been hurled against the cliffs and crushed.

The shape of the Bay is different today: the caverns are at the edge of the shore. They are relatively dry at low tide, especially with the drought we've had the past two years. Only when high tide occurs do large parts of the tunnels become flooded. The most important thing for us is to get in and out fairly quickly, or else we risk the danger of drowning, especially if the weather outside turns bad."


"I've tried to take every precaution I could think of. I am advising the men to wear small packs about their waist with food and water and to carry at least two torches and a rope. No packs on the back since these could catch on the low ceilings in the tunnels. We'll make sure to have flints in case the torches are gutted. And everyone will be wearing a metal helmet to protect their heads. I also understand that Freyn has some basic skills with healing. I've asked him to bring along his kit with herbs and splints should anything go wrong. I'll be carrying some Elvish herbs myself, but I think that the Snowmen's local remedies are probably better suited for the kind of things that might happen in a place like this."

"If you or Bear have any other ideas, I'd like to hear them as I am certainly no expert on caves."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rôg

‘Hmmm . . . I don’t think Bear will have any suggestions for you at present. By this time, he should be fast asleep. Poor felllow was as nervous as a sand rat catching sight of an owl shadow.’ Luindal’s brows went up at these last two disparate pieces of information. ‘And . . .?’ the Elf queried.

‘And . . . well . . . I gave him a nice strong cup of valerian tea with comfrey and some honey. Calmed him right down.’ Rôg glanced up at Luindal and shrugged his shoulders. ‘He was snoring, in fact, by the time I left the room.’

Rôg looked at the crudely drawn map that the Captain had made of the area they would be exploring when the morning came. It was a composite of the old elven map and the one the Lossoth had provided. ‘We should keep in close contact with each other in the caves. I had thought that perhaps I could keep the groups informed of each other’s presence. What do you think? I can use one of my little winged forms as needed.’

Luindal nodded his head at the suggestion. ‘I’ll tell the Lossoth and Elves that you’ll be doing this tomorrow just before we leave the ship.’ He grinned for a split second at Rôg. ‘Wouldn’t want to find one of them roasting the southron on a stick as a tasty tidbit for dinner.’

The bells that marked the beginning of the late night watch rung above, their soft tones carrying down the companion-way to alert those who would be next on duty. ‘I should take my leave of you,’ said Rôg. ‘The bells to wake us for tomorrow’s venture will ring all too soon.’ He paused at the entry way. ‘I did have some interesting thoughts which might prove useful whilst I was bent over the ship’s railing and observing the passage of the ship through the sea. I doubt we’ll need to implement any of them in the cave. But should that search prove fruitless and we have to consider searching beneath the waters of the bay, then I think they might aid us. Let me think on them a little more before I present them to you.’

The Elf turned back to his consideration of the maps as Rôg closed the door firmly behind him.

[Imladris]

Jarlyne

Jarlyne rolled his eyes and cocked his brows as Marreth finished his little speech. Short and to the point as always, which was the he liked it. As the sailors filed out, Jynne slinking along after them like a lingering shadow, he rounded on Marreth and said, "I do not believe this to be a good idea."

Marreth looked at him and said, "And why is that?"

Drat him. He could be so infuriating at times. "I would suppose that it is called the Cave of the Dead for a reason." He paused. "I am not a coward but I would prefer to keep my life. I have already had contact with the dead --" he shuddered, remember the eery wind of ice that had swept through him.

Marreth's face had gone tight and pale, and Jarlyne thought he could hear his teeth grind. He should not have mentioned their first experience with the dead...it was not a good thing to bring up sore subjects about the loss of one's father. He peered quickly at Marreth and then flicked them away, staring resolutely out the window.

"We must find the Stones," Marreth said shortly.

"Fine. If you want to join part of the reason why the cave is called The Cave of the Dead that is fine by me," Jarlyne said waspishly. "I suppose it's better to die this way instead of growing old and feeble."

~~~~~~~~~~

Jynne

His gangly legs straddling the yard, a needle with a tail of leather clenched between his yellowed teeth, Jynne examined the main topsail, fingering the cloth the wind had ripped in his fierce fury. He began to sew the tear together. His stitches were clumsy but that did not matter. An ill patched sail was better than a ripped sail that would betray them when the next storm swooped down upon them.

Shifting his eyes from his work, he froze when he saw Marreth stride down toward their boats and then, furthermore, stop to speak with one of those Snowmen. Yet, peering as closely as he could, Jynne could not recognize them.

He narrowed his eyes, creeping along the yard, letting the needle dangle from the sail.

What were they doing, what were they speaking about under the hiding of the clear sun as the other sailers worked to mend the ship. What esoteric passed between them?

Soon Marreth returned, a grim look upon his face. At his call for the crew, Jynne slipped down the mast, creeping in the feeble shadows toward the cabin.

Crouching in the corner, he peered at the captain and his faithful friend under his brows. The Caves of the Dead. A thin smile cracked his face. The Stones, if they did indeed exist, would be there more than likely.

As he slinked behind the others, his eyes flitted toward the bushes on the shore. What had the two been talking about?

[Lalwendë]

Tarn

As it dawned on Tarn that there was an elven ship heading for the shore, he instinctively reached inside his battered leather coat, feeling for the pocket he had roughly sewn into it, to hold his knives. They were still there. He did not trust elves. He did not trust anyone, but elves less than most, even though he had never met one. His grandfather had told him the old stories, and had told him not to trust anyone who cannot die. “It is not the way of things” he had said.

Tarn screwed up his eyes against the wind, straining to pick out the movements of the elven ship, working out whether it would attempt to come to shore nearby. He wanted to see what would happen, but he did not want to be seen himself. He bent down to the seals, still bobbing around in the water at his feet, and made a peculiar clicking noise. The sleek heads nodded farewell as one and disappeared under the water as they swam away.

“We’re going back,” he said to Thynne, but the lad did not move. “Shift it, come on.” snapped Tarn. Still the boy stared out to sea at the ship. Tarn was losing his patience and snatched the boy’s collar. “Did you hear me?” he said, bending down and staring into the lad’s eyes. Thynne jumped and started to run back to the stone hut near the cliffs, fearful that Tarn would catch up with him and punish him. He did not dare ask Tarn about the strange ship, and whether it was more Corsairs arriving.

***

Thynne’s father had left the warmth of the hut. “He’s probably gone in search of more ale, so you may as well make yourself useful while I go out again, and if you do what I want, then you might get some of that stew” said Tarn, pointing at a large cooking pot next to the hearth. “But mark me, I know exactly how many pieces of Reindeer meat there are in that pot and if I get back and your work isn’t done, and you’ve eaten, then you’ll see trouble.”

Tarn left the lad a pile of fishing nets to be mended, and went back outside. From his storehouse next door he took a pair of snow shoes and his harpoon, strapping them to his back, in case he might need them. He then covered his hands with the dust from a piece of chalk and wiped the powder around his face, whitening it. He pulled his wolfskin cloak tightly around his shoulders, securing it at the waist with a crude leather belt, and covered his head with a white fur hood. Watching through a crack in the door, Thynne found it hard to make Tarn out against the rocks as he strode away.

***

Some hours later, Tarn remained on watch from behind the cairn of granite he used as a vantage point over the bay. The weather had now subsided, and as often happens after a storm, the air was bright and he had a clear view of what was going on below. He could even smell the food cooking.

Tarn had seen the Lossoth boats making for the elven ship and watched as they boarded. He felt a knot of anger in his stomach and wished he could hear what was being said. He supposed some kind of plot was afoot and guessed that the Corsairs might have seen this and come up with a plan themselves. Moving from his hiding place he edged down the scree slope which fell away from the cairn and found his way to the path which ran down the cliffs. Stopping at the bottom of the slope, he turned the wolfskin cloak and the hood inside out, and spitting on his gloves, wiped them across his face to remove the chalk. He was determined to find out what was happening and thought he might hear something interesting close to the Corsair ship.

[Rinfanawen]

Diera stood calmly, yet eagerly as well as she listened intently to Marreth's speech. The violent storm halted for the moment. Only the lingering sound of crashing waves against a battered ship could be heard, alongside her captain's powerful voice.

“The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them,” said Marreth during his brief address to the crew.

Splendid... Diera thought. She could feel her fingers tighten with excitement as she thought of the pleasures of spying on a group of Elves. The most despicable creatures in Middle Earth, they are: she thought in hatred. so powerful and yet, so foolish.

“This is going to be fun,” Diera whispered to her fellow shipmate, Doyal, who stood beside her. Doyal nodded in agreement and quickly turned his attention back to Marreth. Diera did the same. The speech ended quite abruptly, as did most of Marreth’s speeches, and the crew dismissed throughout the ship. Diera stood for a while on deck thinking of the future plans. The thought of entering the Cave of the Dead chilled her bones, for she much despised the thought of stepping foot on that land again, but into a cave? She shuttered at the thought. Nevertheless, she was determined to get to the Palantiri first.

Diera was silent as she turned towards the shore. The Elven ship was within her vision, but she tried to forbid herself from looking at it. Each time she looked upon the curved formations and graceful details of the enemy vessel, she longed more and more for it to be the next day...the day the Elves go in the cave. She needed to be ready. She had to make sure that nothing would go wrong, that their plan would continue without a flaw.

Suddenly she was pulled from her concentrated state of mind by a tug on her sleeve. “Diera, you are needed on the starboard side,” said Doyal.

Diera nodded and began to follow Doyal across the ship, but as she did, she heard an interesting conversation taking place nearby. She could not see whom the voices belonged to. The only sight was a bit of swaying white fur from a coat of some sort above a few barrels that had been stacked on the deck. A mischievous smile crossed Diera’s face. The voices continued, and Diera made her way towards the barrels.

The voices clearly belonged to her captain and co-officer, Jarlyn. Diera bent just low enough behind the barrels so she could peer through the small gaps between them, without being seen herself. She listened carefully to the words being spoken.

“I am not a coward but I would prefer to keep my life,” said Jarlyn to Marreth. “I have already had contact with the dead—”

The words were cut off, and Diera new the reason. Clearly, Jarlyn opposed the idea of going into the cave, and who wouldn’t? Such a dreadful place it was. Any being in their right mind would not even consider entering the Cave of the Dead. The conversation continued.

“We must find the Stones,” Marreth said shortly.

”Fine. If you want to join part of the reason why the cave is called The Cave of the Dead that is fine by me,” Jarlyn said waspishly. “I suppose it's better to die this way instead of growing old and feeble.”

Ha! thought Diera. That’s what he thinks! I would much rather die old and feeble, as long as I was old and feeble aboard a ship...but to die in the Cave of the Dead? That would be horrible! It would be terrible! It would be...well, if it happens, then I guess it happens. Either way, we must get to those stones before the Elves lay their filthy hands on them. Suddenly a horrendous thought entered her mind. Who would be going ashore to spy on them? Surely, he would not choose me, Diera thought in almost complete confidence. Already I have suffered enough by being placed on land, but... She closed her eyes in disgust. If I must, if need calls for me to enter the cave, then so be it.

Seeing that the overheard conversation was coming to an end, Diera quickly left her position on the ground and made her way to the Starboard side of the ship. She would see Marreth about placement orders at another time.

[Kitanna]

Nilak

The storm had died down somewhat and the captain had called everyone on deck. Nilak and Sernir stood on the boat deck listening to Marreth. "The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them." Sernir nodded in approval at this.

Nilak personally had nothing against these elven intruders, but if they robbed him of any amount of treasure he would make it a personal thing. However Nilak was not prepared to go into the Cave of the Dead. That place meant doom for anyone who dared to enter.

"Maybe we can give them a little surprise. Any questions?” No one said anything. It was usually better not to ask questions about these things. However in the back of Nilak's mind he thought, what was so important about these Stones that the Corsairs and Elves were willing to lose everything?

Sernir leaned over and spoke to Nilak, "Be prepared for an early start tomorrow, Lossoth. You are going into that cave."

"Some places get their names for a reason. I think the Cave of the Dead is one of those places." Nilak cast a spiteful glance over to Sernir. Maybe you should go into the cave, Corsair, he thought.

"You're not paid to think." Sernir spat back. "You're paid to find those stones and bring them back to me. Now go get some rest, you'll be worthless if you're tired tomorrow."

Nilak wanted to stay and argue, but he knew Sernir was right. He nodded to Sernir and headed off to get a good night's sleep. He would need as much energy as possible for the next day.

[Lalwendë]

Tarn

The pathway down to where the Corsairs had moored their great ship was cut closely into the cliffs and was slippery in places, but Tarn knew the dangers well, and he passed down the steps as swiftly and silently as an otter. As he neared the bottom, he saw the Captain, Marreth, boarding the ship and drew himself back against the cliff face, where he was hid in a crack of the dark, slimy rock. He wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t want to be drawn into anything against his will.

The Captain was gathering the crew together on the deck, and to his surprise, Tarn spotted Nilak among them. His eyes narrowed. Nilak was as much a scoundrel as he was, and they would normally have kept out of the way of each other, but they had crossed paths often lately, as both had become involved with the Corsairs. Nilak was a strong man who intimidated the Lossoth with his reputation as a ship wrecker, and he had a great thirst for wealth. Tarn admired his nerve, but he would never have admitted this. Tarn’s reputation was built on his disdainful manner which led him to think he could get away with almost anything, and there were some Lossoth who dared not even make eye contact with this large, arrogant man. Nilak was one of those who did dare.

“What is that limpet doing here?” hissed Tarn to himself. Over the crashing of the waves, he couldn’t quite make out what the Captain was saying, but whatever it was, it did not take him long, and the crew turned away with uncertain looks on their faces. He had only made out the words “elves”, “spying” and “enemy”. As he puzzled over this he spotted Nilak leaving the ship, and drawing one of his knives into his sleeve, he stepped out onto the path.

“There’s a little mission to do with these elves going ahead I gather, Nilak,” he said, raising his eyebrows. If Nilak was taken aback by Tarn suddenly materialising from the cliffs, he did not show it. Tarn’s plan had worked, and instead of attacking or ignoring him, Nilak had motioned him to follow. As they walked back, Nilak had told Tarn about the elves’ plan to search the House of the Dead, which had made Tarn snort with sarcastic laughter. But when Tarn heard that the Corsairs were planning to go down there and spy on the elves he stopped smiling. Nilak told him that he was going down there himself, at first light, and Tarn did not say anything for some time.

As they neared the path which led to Tarn’s hut, he had decided. “I’m coming along with you. I’m not afraid of that place. It’s only an old man’s story. A lie. There has to be something in there to make up something like that to keep us out.” He did not really believe what he was saying, but he wanted to convince himself that he did, for he was determined to find out what would happen, and determined not to let anything prevent him from finding this treasure. At the crossroads they parted, and agreed to meet up by the Corsair ship at daybreak, to join in the spying mission. Whatever that would entail, neither knew, and neither dared say.

Tarn entered the stone hut to find Thynne asleep, the fire down to its embers and only half the nets mended. He did not check the pot to see if Thynne had eaten, as he had now forgotten his threat, but it was no matter, as he was angry enough about the unmended nets. He angrily piled wood into the hearth, and as he did so a thought formed in his mind. The lad could be useful if any of the spying came to involve entering the caves, and it would also be his punishment. Tarn nodded to himself spitefully, and instead of waking the lad, left him asleep, and climbed up the ladder to his own bed in the loft, taking the pot of stew with him.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Orofaniel's post for Galhardir & Rodhal

“Uncle!” Rodhal whispered in his uncle’s ears. “You must wake up,” he then continued. The child’s voice was as comforting to wake up too as a singing bird. Galhardir’s eyes opened slowly as he looked the boy. “I’ve overslept!” he sighed. “Indeed, uncle,” Rodhal then giggled. “Annû and Carandû, the two nice elves, just went out on deck,” he continued. “We must hurry then!” Galhardir then exclaimed.

“Not I, uncle, I’m ready; you must hurry!” Rodhal then said, acting like an adult. “Right you are young lad,” Galhardir said, glancing over at him as he got fully dressed. Then suddenly, Galhardir remembered yesterday evening’s conversation with the elves; the cave of the dead.

Was it responsible of him to bring little Rodhal to such a place when he could hardly speak of it in front of him? Galhardir thought about this awhile and an unpleasant feeling overcame him. No, he couldn’t do it, he said to himself. He couldn’t dare bring his nephew into such danger, especially when he knew all those tales that had been told of old. It was simply something he wouldn’t do to the boy; he loved him too much. And what would his parents say if they knew? His brother, Gonlahr would never forgive him. Galhardir couldn’t risk it. Besides, the only reason his brother, Rodhal’s father had let his son come with Galhardir was because he trusted him. Galhardir didn’t want to loose that trust by doing something as stupid as this.

Galhardir had made his decision; Rodhal would have to stay at the ship as he was too young to come with them. It was his final decision.

“Rodhal, please wait here while I…” he didn’t know how to finish his sentence so he just disappeared out the door. Rodhal didn’t notice and stayed where he was.

Galhardir then walked with stern steps towards Luindal, who was still in his cabin and greeted him politely. “Greeting to you too sir,” Galhardir then said, bowing. “I would inform you that Rodhal, my nephew will of course, not be joining us,” His hands were sweating. Although he was sure Luindal would agree, he wouldn’t want to see the disappointment in Rodhal’s eyes.

“Of course!” Luindal said, looking at him gravely;” It would be folly to take such a young lad to such a place,” he then continued. My words exactly, Galhardir thought. “Aye, sir,” Galhardir nodded.

“Then I guess, we should be ready..” Luindal said. “The boy may stay at the ship in the cabin,” he said, but hesitated; ”If he wants to, he can climb up to the lookout tower and keep an eye on what is going on around the ship,” Lunidal then said smiling. “Aye sir, thanks. I think he’d like that,” Galhardir said. He was very grateful for Luindal’s kindness. Now Rodhal would have some adventure to go on while he was away,

“Thanks again sir,” Galhardir then said. “I’ll go inform the boy and then go on deck to board the boat,” he said looking at the boats that were almost ready to go.

“Alright, but hurry, the boats are leaving any moment now.

Galhardir didn’t know how to tell Rodhal this, but some way or another he just had to explain to the boy that this was for his own best. He slipped inside the door and met the eyes of Rodhal.

“Well, boy…” he started. “It is best if you stay here at the ship while the elves and our kin leave for the cave,” he then continued. “But while we’re away you are allowed to climb to the outlook post a…” the boy interrupted; ”Of course uncle…you didn’t expect me to go inside the cave?!” The boy exclaimed. Galhardir was stunned by these words and gazed upon the young lad. “It’s too dangerous for me. I’m not old enough…besides, I don’t think papa would appreciate that…” he said innocently.

Galhardir admitted that he was surprised by these words, but very comforted and happy. “Oh…Of course,” he then said, pretending that he’d never had the intention of brining him along. “I’ll wander about the ship…” the boy said dreamily. “Alright then…” Galhardir then muttered. “I’ll be expecting to see a new captain on the ship the when I return,” Galhardir then said merrily, returning to his calm, relaxed and merry mood. Even though he was about to face something he knew would be dangerous he wasn’t worried. Rodhal would at least be safe.

“Uncle…you must hurry now,” Rodhal then reminded him. “Of course,” Galhardir then said, giving the boy a hug. He didn’t even bother to remind him to be a “good boy” as he knew Rodhal would act more responsible than he would in the next couple of hours.

**********************

[Child of the 7th Age]

The first rays of the morning sun were still below the horizon when Luindal wearily stood up from his papers and charts to put on a fresh change of clothes. He heard a knock on the door and found the Lossoth Gallhardir waiting to speak with him. They had both agreed that his young nephew would be better off staying on board the ship.

Although most Elves require little if any sleep, Luindal found that he usually did much better if he had at least a few hours to rest and relax his mind. However, that was a luxury he could ill afford at the moment. After his conversation with Rôg, he had stubbornly sat up all night working on a series of his own notes on how and where to search for the Stones at the bottom of the Bay. There were still so many problems he couldn't figure out. He'd need to have another long talk with Rôg and see if the shapechanger had any more good ideas.

If the palantiri did not show up in the Caverns of the Dead, they would have little choice but to shift the focus of their search. Alahseey had made it clear that all the other likely spots along the fringes of the Bay had been thoroughly searched by the Corsairs. It made little sense to redo what was already done.

Luindal felt his hours of work had barely scratched the surface of the many complications they would have to deal with if the Stones failed to turn up in the Caverns. But at least a start had been made. He went over, scooped up his papers, and placed them inside a locked chest that he always carried along on voyages. As he was about to leave the room, Hilde came in and graciously offered him heated cider, which he took. He listened absentmindedly as the serving woman explained how she had stowed the new supplies away and would straighten out his room and prepare the evening meal while he and his men were away on their search. At leaat there was one less thing to worry about.

Stopping to strap on his waist pack, retrieve his pick axe, and put on a metal helmet, Luindal went out on deck and saw that a number of Elves and Lossoth were already gathered there wearing similar gear. Soon they would climb down the ladders and enter the small boats that were to head towards the cave. The tide was low. Focusing on the shore, he glimpsed a wide expanse of beach spread out in front of the Cavern. They should have enough time to split up in small groups to make a preliminary survey of the tunnels and the main cavern before returning safely to the ship.

He had assigned almost thirty Snowmen and Elves to the survey party. The remaining ten were to stay behind on the Spirit to make sure that there was no mischief done to the ship during their absence.

Standing in front of his volunteers, Luindal beckoned for them to move closer so they could hear what he was saying,. He spoke quietly trying to address the unspoken fears that he could see in many of their eyes. "Today, we begin our search for the missing Stones. There are two words I want everyone to engrave upon their hearts: caution and swiftness. At this early point in our hunt, no one is to take any unnecessary risks. If we have any doubts about the safety of a particular path or tunnel, we will hold back from going that way. Secondly, we must work with all due haste. Our great enemy is time. As long as the tide stays low, we will be able to make our way back out of the tunnel. When the waters come rushing onto the beach and seeping up from underneath into the tunnels, then we are in great danger. So we will be very careful about when we leave the tunnels. There must be no stragglers."

"Split up in small groups: at least two or three in each group. No one is to search alone. Respect this cave as a dangerous place and you will come out alive. Let us move quietly now while it is still dark for the Corsairs have no idea where we go or what we do. "

"We also have another advantage of which the Corsairs are yet unaware. As some of you know, Rôg has some unusual abilities in shape shifting. While we are inside the cave, he has agreed to shift into a small winged form and keep the different groups in touch with each other. So please, if you note a large insect or bat buzzing at your ear, take due care not to injure it!"

With that final word of instruction, the men slipped into their boats and began paddling silently towards the shore. The vessels were left hidden in a side cove with fishing nets and gear prominently displayed so no one would suspect anything. Then they walked the final mile towards the cave. The Caverns of the Dead were set about a quarter mile from the spot where the Corsair ship was docked. As they approached the entrance of the cave, Luindal could see that the opening was small, too small for any Elf or man to stand. They would need to attach the ropes to their waists and crawl one-by-one into the first tunnel.

[Imladris]

Jynne peered from under his scraggling eyebrows over the bow spirit, trying to see if he could see the mysterious Snowman. His eyes dropped to narrow slits as he saw him lumbering off as fast as he could toward the inland.

What had the two been talking about? What if Marreth was going to do a double deal? Jynne buttoned his lips and narrowed his eyes so that they were almost closed.

Turning on his heel, he crept towards the cabin and knocked tentatively, then pushed the door open and slipped into the cabin, closing the door carefully behind him.

Jarylin's mouth snapped shut and his lips formed a straight line. Jynne's face stretched into a small smile. His eyes studying the the portion of the wall behind Marreth's shoulder, he said sofly, "Did my captain ask for an advance scout? I glady offer my services..."

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin Hardhammer's post

Marreth fixed a steady eye on Jynne, carefully weighing the words the man had spoken. It was true that he had asked for advance scouts to spy on Luindal. Jynne did seem to have a gift for slinking quietly about with no one the wiser for his presence. Yet the Corsair captain did not know the man well and he preferred his advance spies be sailors he absolutely trusted.

Carefully pondering his dilemma, Marreth decided on a course of action, "Jynne, I would welcome your presence in the advance scouts. But you must go under the leadership of Diera and follow all her commands. She is a trusted comrade of mine and has been on many secret missions. You can learn much from her for she has my trust." With that he bade Jynne good bye and retired to his bed for the night.


*********

The next morning long before dawn had broken, Marreth led a group of about twelve men to a hidden grove that lay less than a quarter of a mile from the cave. He quickly explained what would happen, “Eight of you will stay here while you wait for the signal to go ahead. But I have chosen a few advance scouts who will venture into the cave now to make sure that there is no ambush waiting for us. Jynne and Diera will go as a team. Also Tarn and Nilak."

The two Snowmen looked surprised to hear their names called. "Yes, that's right. I want you two as well," Marreth snapped. "You know the terrain far better than my own men. I will be watching you closely to see how you do. If you desire rich rewards and a measure of my trust, pay close attention to how you act!"

"You four will go ahead and look around. If everything is clear, flash the lantern three times.”

Marreth watched as the two Corsairs and two Snowmen went off to the cave. Then he turned to the rest. “Hook, you're in charge of this group for the moment. When the lantern signal comes, you will all advance. Now remember, only spying. We want to know our enemy so that we can learn how to defeat them. The fighting will come later. Steak out hiding places in the cave and we will wait for the Elves to show up.”

"Meanwhile I have decided to do a little advance spying of my own." With those curt words, Marreth suddenly disappeared. He slipped silently through the woods and lowered himself into the small hole that was the only entrance to the cave. Once inside, he could see it was a very large and dark cave with jagged rocks everywhere and tunnels shooting off from the main hall. Once or twice Marreth tore a piece of his cloak on a jagged rock, but he paid no mind. He was focused on picking a good spying spot. Once he picked one behind a rock just off the main cavern, he crouched down behind it and waited, not making a sound.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kitanna's post

Nilak was on the deck of the ship listening to Marreth barking orders at them. Tarn was not standing that far from him. Nilak gave him a quick nod to acknowledge his presence. Standing on his left side was Sernir. The Corsair seemed rather happy this morning. Nilak could only guess why.

“Jynne and Diera will go as a team. Also Tarn and Nilak." Marreth said. Sernir had mentioned Nilak going into the cave, but he didn't think he had been serious.

Nialk looked over at Sernir, who ignored him. This was most likely his idea. Nilak looked over to Tarn next. The other Lossoth seemed just as, if not more annoyed then Nilak. Sernir pulled Nilak close to whisper something to him. "Don't mess this up."

Nilak narrowed his eyes and snarled slightly at Sernir as he followed behind Tarn and the two Corsairs. Nilak did not trust these Corsairs. He figured they were all as loathesome as Sernir. Though he never would have admitted it, Nilak was relieved that Tarn would go into the caves. He was not very friendly with Tarn, but at least he was another Lossoth and not a Corsair.

~*~*~

Once in the cave the four split up. The Corsairs went together and Tarn went with Nilak. Tarn made sure they had the lantern and the Corsairs. As they moved along Tarn put Nilak first since Nilak did not really have to worry about banging his head.

Every now and again Nilak would turn back and see Tarn ducking or struggling through the sandy cave floor. Beads of sweat were on his brow. Nilak could not understand how anyone could possibly be hot in the cave. He was freezing, even under his many layers of clothes.

Each time Nilak stopped he could hear Tarn draw the air in between his teeth. “I’m just a little out of breath” Nilak did not really believe him. If Tarn was scared, Nilak could understand why. Who knew what dangers lurked in this cave?

Nilak finally came to a little alcove in the cave. He shined the light in to have a better look. Both Lossoths could fit inside, but they would be cramped. Nilak got down on his hands and knees and went into the alcove. "We can hide and watch from here, I think." Tarn came in behind him. In the lantern light the two could see their breaths. "Yes, this is a good spot."

[piosenniel]

Bear was in one of the first boats to land on the muddy shingle that served for a beach in front of the cave. At Rôg’s request, though the day’s light was coming on, he lit a small covered lantern and made his way to the cave entrance. ‘We’ll go in first, he said, a sweeping gesture of his hand taking in Rôg, who stood next to him. ‘Rôg will take a little look-see to scout out any immediate dangers in the main cavern while I see what I can from just inside the entrance with my light.’

With a shrug, Rôg’s form became smaller until only a small brown, furred thing, less than four inches long, lay on top the mud at Bear’s feet. There were gasps as the small animal, a little brown bat , flew up; and dipping one wing to Bear, flew quickly in to the small cave entrance. Bear followed, his lantern hanging from his belt, as he crawled through the small opening and into the small tunnel.

It was only a few short feet to the interior where the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. It was tall enough for the Lossoth to move about in, but barely, and there were other tunnels leading off it to smaller caverns still. Bear opened the hood to the lantern and cast the light about in the darkness. The water had retreated from the cave with the tide, leaving the silted rock floor slippery with the remaining damp. The Elves and Lossoth would need to be careful of there footing as they walked along. There would be plenty of chances to slip and injure oneself on the rough edged rocks that had tumbled from the cavern’s ceiling.

From where he stood near the main cavern’s entrance he could see numerous little openings to the other small caverns that honeycombed along this section of the Bay. He watched as Rôg flew rapidly toward the openings and darted in and out of them, checking that they were open. After a fair space of time, the little bat returned to the main cavern, and flew out the exit to where the others of the group waited. Bear followed. Changing back to his mannish form, both Rôg and Bear gave a brief report on what they’d seen. Of the thirteen tunnels he had flown into, four were blocked by fallen rock and built up, hardened silt. The others opened into small caverns that tilted downward from the main cavern – in some rocks partially blocked the way, but could be squeezed by. And there would be a need to be out of there before the tide came in fully – as these caverns were most likely completely submerged at high tide. Bear nodded his head in agreement, saying the waterline in the main cavern was nearly to the top of it, and that would mean that the tunnel into it would be completely filled with water when the tide came up.

The Men and Elves listened closely to the two scouts. Then, securing their torches and flints boxes in their belts, they tied their ropes about their waists and went in toward the darkness, taking care to stay close to their companions in the search.

[Arry]

“Well, would you look at that!” Annû’s eyes went wide as Rôg’s form crumpled down into a small brown bundle of fur. “He’s hardly as wide as my hand!” Carrandû, too, was taken aback, saying, “And here I thought he was just some hapless Second Born that the Captain met in Gondor. A skinchanger . . .”

The two brothers were in the middle of the group waiting to go in. They had agreed that once they entered the main cavern they would rope themselves together along with whoever else might choose to join them. “Just remember to leave about six feet of rope between us, brother mine,’ laughed Carrandû as they reached the entrance to the tunnel. “I don’t relish the thought of you kicking mud in my face as we crawl through those other tunnels.” “Too bad we bear the curse of the Eldar,” his brother replied, winking. “Curse?” asked Carrandû as he knelt to begin the crawl into the main cavern. He could hear his brother laughing softly behind him. “The Curse . . . of being so tall, brother! Were we Hobbits this would not be such a back breaking task for us.”

“Were we Hobbits,’ Carrandû reminded him, “we would not be here. We’d be in some snug little Inn, our feet propped in front of the fire. A mug of good ale in one fist, and a pipe in the other.” Carrandû emerged into the cavern and stood up as best he could, helping his brother up as he emerged. “Though why they enjoy that noxious smoke is beyond me.”

The two brothers moved to one side of the tunnel entrance to make way for the others. Annû pulled a torch from his belt while his brother fumbled in his pocket for the flint to light it. “Hurry,” whispered Annû. “I can barely make out a thing in here – save for the lights of the others as they move off toward the other tunnels.”

Their now lit torch throwing a small puddle of flickering light on the floor as they held it before them, the two rope-linked figures moved off toward one of the tunnels that no one had looked into as yet . . .

[Niluial]

“I’m not too sure about this” Andtuariel muttered to Elwë. Her face was slightly white, though it had lost the greenish tint of sea sickness.

Elwë reached over and gently tucked one of Andtuariel’s brown curls behind her ear. “It will be just fine if you follow the instructions and stick with me!” Elwë said bravely. He liked to act as if he was brave, put on a strong face but he too was worried. What could happen inside there? What if something bad happens?

Andtuariel giggled nervously, “Yes Sir!” she said with her tongue in her cheek. She looked at the sea and the small waves that hit her feet. The sea was blue and clear, calm and silent in the wake of the storm. Elwë locked eyes with Andtuariel one more time, giving her a look of assurance.

There was a nervous yet excited silence, which was broken by a sudden, “Well, would you look at that!” Annû’s said. Elwë chuckled quietly and looked in the direction where Annû was looking; a small brown bundle of fur lay there. It was clear that a few were surprised they had a skinchanger amongst them.

Elwë and Andtuariel stayed behind Carrandû and Annû as they walked through the dark tunnel. It was so silent inside the tunnel, the breathing of the others could be heard and every footstep too. The little lights of the others bounced up and down, imitating their movement as they walked.

Andtuariel drifted beside him. He smiled. They were not afraid of the Cave, though he could feel the fear of those ahead of them. They had no fear of death.

A rock clattered loose and hurtled somewhere in the darkness. A harsh ringing filled the cave. Beside him, Elwë could feel the cave walls tremble.

Andtuariel stumbled and clutched onto Elwë. Elwë’s heart jolted. “Andtuariel!” Elwë hissed.

“What?” she whispered. "The rock fell loose above and it fell on my head...then I stumbled over a crag."

"I'm sorry...but don't grab at me...or breathe down my neck...let me go!"

Slowly she let go of his hand.

[Imladris]

Jynne propped his chin onto the back of his hands and peered down at the elves and Snowmen. He was curled like a snake upon a solid ledge of rock. There was about a half inch distance between him and the top of the cave.

A spider crawled down his ankle, but he barely noticed the tickling of its legs as it minced upon his blotchy skin. A ghosted wind brushed his hollow cheek. His lips curled into a sneer.

Above him the cave shuddered, and a chunk of rock hurtled from a ledge. It struck the elf wench, causing her to stumble. His eyes narrowed. The Snowmen in front of them stopped, drew closer together, fidgeted together, muttering together.

The caves shuddered. The restless spirits of their dead had gathered together, warning the intruders back. Never trust that the dead were fully dead. They could surprise with their ever remaining presence. For the dead never truly left. There was always a bleached, yellowed bone crumbling in the dirt, a wasted spirit. A prophecy that the same fate awaited all witless mortals.

They were afraid of these caves. Very afraid. The caves were treacherous. He smiled.

[Lalwendë]

Tarn

When Tarn had risen he had found that the boy, Thynne, had disappeared. Though he had searched in and around the hut for some time, all the while bellowing at the top of his lungs for him, there was no sign of the lad. He had soon become furious and was about to set off and look for him elsewhere when he remembered he had promised to be at the cave for the spying. Grabbing some equipment from the storehouse, he locked the door to the hut and set off at a run. If the lad came back, he thought, then he could just sit out here in the freezing cold. On the shoreline some time later he was trying to think what might have happened to Thynne instead of listening to the Corsair Captain.

“Jynne and Diera will go as a team. Also Tarn and Nilak."

Tarn raised his eyebrows at hearing his name and then stared the captain in the eye angrily. He had been planning to worm his way out of having to go into the caves. Some spying from the cliffs was more what he had in mind. He was about to say something to the Captain when more orders were barked out and he swallowed the retort.

“Yes, that's right. I want you two as well," Marreth snapped. "You know the terrain far better than my own men. I will be watching you closely to see how you do. If you desire rich rewards and a measure of my trust, pay close attention to how you act!"

Tarn turned to Nilak, who he thought looked equally annoyed. Tarn rolled his eyes, sneered and with a sigh he set off behind the two Corsair scouts. He didn’t want to appear as a coward in front of this great Captain, but he didn’t want him to think he was a pushover, an easy target. As he walked he pulled on an old helmet that he taken from his storehouse as he had left the hut. This was an item that the seals had found a few years back and it had lain in the storehouse since, unsold. The helmet was smooth and made of some type of metal which did not appear to rust - it was not iron, and Tarn had been unable to decide what it could have been forged from, or where it had come from. For this reason he had kept it, as he could not put a price on the item, but he had thought of it last night as he lay in bed.

The female Corsair officer looked at him quizzically as they stopped at the cave entrance. Thinking she might be appraising him rather than the helmet, Tarn raised an eyebrow and smiled, revealing his white teeth, but the officer sneered and turned her back on him. The man, Jynne, glared at him disdainfully but Tarn just stared at him, his arms folded. “Let the worm try me“, he thought, “he doesn’t look like he could take me down.”

***

Any feelings of animosity or mistrust were soon forgotten as the four entered the cave and split up to take up their hiding posts. Tarn and Nilak had made sure that they had the lantern, and once they had signalled to the others, they went away, trying to look confident. Tarn was sure-footed but in here his feet kept sinking into the sodden, sandy floor of the cave, slowing his progress and he moved cautiously, bending low where there was no need, so fearful was he of banging his head. Nilak moved more easily being the shorter of the two, and Tarn decided to follow him.

The air was cold; in the scant glow of the lantern Tarn could see his breath condensing, but he felt hot and sweat was trickling down his brow. Each time they halted, he took a deep breath, sucking the air between his teeth and then slowly breathing out, to steady his nerves. “I’m just a little out of breath” he said to Nilak. He did not want him to think he was troubled by the place.

As he crept along, Tarn alternated between holding his hands about his coat, to prevent it catching on any rocks and send them tumbling, and stretching them gently out to feel for hazards. He started wondering when Nilak would find them a hiding place as he did not want to go too much further from the open air. It was not the rumour of spirits which was foremost in his mind, but the oppressive weight of rock above his head, and the possibility of being trapped, to be engulfed by the rushing of choking waters. Like many of the Lossoth, he had seen people fall beneath the ice, never to return, and it was a sight which never left his nightmares. Tarn liked the space of the cliffs and the shore, the wind and the rain. This swallowing darkness was making Tarn experience terror for the first time in many long years.

[Orofaniel]

Galhardir

Goliardic now found himself just inside one of the tunnels, following the two eleven brothers Annû and Carandû, who Galhardir now considered as his friends. The merry elves had invited him along as they had seen he was just on his own; no one was to venture the cave alone, Luindal had made that perfectly clear, which was understandable.

The tree of them started to walk the narrow path that followed. This was definitely not a place for Rodhal, Galhardir thought as he lifted his head upwards. His eyes caught small glimpses of rocks and stones as the light of the torch he bore came over them. "How are we going to find anything in such darkness?" Annû then said. He made a reasonable point by asking that, Galhardir figured, because it would indeed be very difficult. "We've just got to look, I guess," said Carandû and shrugged. Galhardir nodded, although he knew none of them would notice it as he walked behind the other two.

The next steps were slippery and Galhardir could hardly keep himself on his feet. He supported himself to the rocky wall, but to no use, as he found it to edgy to touch. A splint cut his hand slightly, and he could feel the hot blood flowing from the mall wound. He let out a short gasp. "Are you alright, back there?" Annû asked as he turned. The small company stopped for a little while; "Aye, just a scratch," Galhardir replied as it was too dark for him to see the actual wound.

"Lets continue," Galhardir then said, holding his torch forwards so that he could see the faces of Annû and Carandû. "Aye," Annû and Carandû said at the same time, both turning forwards starting their march. "Hold on," Carandû then said seizing Annû's arm. "What is the matter?" he asked and turned once again. Galhardir was also curious about that. "Look!" Carandû then said. "I think there is another passage there!" he continued, seeming quite enthusiastic about his discover. The three of them held their torches together in the direction Carandû pointed; there was indeed another passage there. "Lets give it a try," Ann*u then said. Galahardir hesitated a little, but followed them. "I think it leads to another cavern," Galhardir then said. "Right you are, Galhardir," Annû said, who saw everything before the two others as he walked in the front.

*******

Rodhal

As he'd watched his uncle and the others leave for the boats he had felt the slight of disappointment and misery. Not because he wasn't able to come with them, but because his uncle had gone alone without him. Usually they'd go on adventures together. He figured this was an adventure for adults only, as he could se no other child following them. He waved from the deck as he heard his uncle voice telling him to be a good Captain while they were gone.

Rodhal didn't know for how long they had been gone but it couldn't have been long, as he hadn't had the time yet to climb up to the look out tower. He didn't know if dared, as it was pretty high. He wondered if his uncle would have managed to climb up there.

He went across the deck and decided to give it a try. There wasn't much wind only a light breeze, so the weather would not be problem for him. He sized the lower part of the mast and began climbing. His hands were sweaty, but the grip was stern. His skinny body went up....up...up. Half way up the top he looked down. What a frightful sight, he thought. It was a long way down, and still a long way up. What if he fell? No, he doubted it, but admitted that the height frightened him a little.

He continued upwards, climbing steadily, until he reached the top. Finally he had reached the top. He found himself standing in the small outlook post. It was big enough for him though. He looked own once again as he had done before. The deck, the cabin.... It was such a long way down. He shuddered, but he knew he was safe. Much safer here than in the cave of the dead, he said to himself – that was for sure.

What a perfect view for a young lad like himself....

[Child of the 7th Age]

As they emerged from the narrow passageway, Luindal led the main group of Elves and Lossoth towards the middle of the first cavern. The Elves' footsteps echoed eerily as they silently made their way through the passage. There was a blackness in the cave that was a hundred times darker than the deepest forest glade on a night with no moon. If only, mused Luindal, we had brought a dwarf with us, preferably one who likes cold weather and could swim. He would feel at home here. But it was no use dwelling on what might have been. They'd need to do the best that they could with the people and equipment they had.

Reminding the group of the purpose of their mission, he then suggested their next step: "We must scour the floor of the cave, as well as any ledges and crannies to search for the Stones. We probably won't be so lucky to have them laid out in full view. More likely, they will be buried in mud and silt with only a portion of the Stone showing above."

"Remember too that each of the Stones is different. The Stone of Annúminas is small, no more than twelve inches across. The Stone of Amon Sûl is so large that it will take more than one of us to lift it. Both will be shaped like globes, and made of black crystal. Still, if we find one, the other likely won't be far off."

With that, Luindal got to his knees, staked out his torch beside him, and began to feel very slowly with his hands amid the mud and silt, searching for any objects that were hard and round. He explained what he was doing. "Let's comb the floor of the main cavern first. If you find anything of hard crystal, dark in color and half buried in the mud, then let me know and we'll get someone to help you dig so we can see have a look at it. After searching this cavern, if nothing turns up, we may need to split up to explore the side tunnels. "

"But if you do find anything, use you hands, your pick axes too if that's needed--only gently. And please, no dawdling. I don't care to be here when the tide comes in!" With that, several of the Lossoth and Elves got down on their knees and proceeded to feel their way along the floor of the cave in the manner that Luindal had shown them.

A few of the party had already gone off to investigate one of the side tunnels: Galhardir along with two of the Elves. But most of the group were still gathered in the central cavern, crawling about on their hands and knees.

Seeing a small brown bat come flitting into the main cavern, Luindal beckoned him over and, despite the gravity of their situation, impishly observed, "Rôg, you're looking unusually good today, much better than I am, if I may so. However, I need a bit more information about those side tunnels. I have a feeling that nothing will turn up in this main cavern, and we'll have to spread out our search shortly. Any ideas on what order we should tackle those caverns. We might as well search the most dangerous ones first, those that are likely to flood the earliest, so we get them out of the way."

[piosenniel]

The Elves and Lossoth had all entered the cavern and were beginning their explorations. Rôg took one last fly-about in the main cavern. Bats are, of course, blind for the most part, but he sent out a high pitched squeal, unheard by the human ears, and listened closely to the pattern of echoes that returned to him. He was beginning to make a sort of map in his head of the interior of the main cavern . . . where the rocks were that jutted up from the floor; where the ceiling slanted, where it arched up; where the rock shelves jutted out about the walls, their echoed images configured with the irregular shapes of fallen rock that cluttered along their lengths.

How odd! he thought to himself as he moved from rocky grouping to another. How very odd! Probably nothing, really . . . He shrugged off the difference in the returned echoes as he moved across a particular section. Parts of the echoes were different, softer, blurrier than the others. Having never been in this sort of situation before, he could not tell what it was that made the difference.

Still, as he dropped down to where Luindal stood, the light of the torch flickering on his features, Rôg thought that perhaps he should tell the Captain that there appeared to be some ‘irregularities’ in the rocky structures that he had picked up. ‘I really have no idea what they mean,’ he said as he finished telling Luindal of them, having taken on his mannish form once more. ‘But I thought you would want to know about them . . .’

Luindal took Rog’s information under advisement, then repeated the question about the side tunnels and caverns. Rôg gave his gathered information careful thought, presenting it finally in as organized a way as he could:

‘There are thirteen tunnels,’ he began, ‘leading into smaller caverns than this, although four of them – the four immediately to your left as you stand with your back to the main cavern’s entrance, are blocked to entrance by rock fall. I managed to squeeze into them – they are small caverns and small tunnels. I really doubt something the size of even the smaller of the palantiri could have been deposited in them.’

‘That leaves nine tunnels – the four leading to the larger caverns; that is the ones you Elves could probably stand hunched over in are straight ahead of you. I think they must be the ones the motion of the incoming tides hits the hardest. They are likely candidates for having had the globes rolled into them at one time or another. Unfortunately, when the tide comes in, there might possible be headspace for breathing, but I would hate to have to find out whether that is true or not. And breathing room or no, the tunnels leading to them will all be completely filled with surging water.

‘The other five – three to the right of those larger mid-caverns and two to the left have very low ceilings. It will be a hands and knees search in there. And those five will certainly all fill with water as the tide comes in. They are large enough certainly for the smaller of the globes to have become lodged in.’

‘According to Bear the tide was just fully out, the waters of the bay ebbed as much as they would, when we gathered in front of the tunnel into this cavern. The incoming tide will be a very high one and will be at its full around midday when the sun is straight overhead. The tunnels will be passable about half way into that time period. Beyond that, they may be too full of water for some to pass safely.’

‘So . . . it is best that we make haste to finish as much of our investigations as we can this morning . . .’