Hookworth Village, Bree-Land, May 19th
Dear Ravondir
I have danced a jig at the summit of Weathertop! I doubt you know that name, though the hill to which it refers is the most prominent natural landmark in the area between the ruins of Arthedain, Rhudaur and Cardolan. You will know the name of Amon Sûl, however, as it was once known, since the bastion at its peak once held a palantír, at the exact place where those kingdoms’ borders met. Now its summit is tumbled ruins, and I stood upon the very edge of its sheerest drop to the valley below, dancing in the Bree-Land style, for no better reason than to strike fear into the heart of my companion, an elf of the Ered Luin, and my comrade in the Knights of Eriador. This elf has become a firm friend to me in the short time we have known one another, or more, my brother in arms.
The head of our order, who I will name only as Iolanthryth, since she refuses all other titles, had tasked us to spy out the country around that ancient ruin, which overlooks the lands for miles about. Bree has suffered no attacks, but the marches of the lands about it have been beset by brigands and worse: the village of Archet was overrun and burned by brigands of the Blackwold gang, while the town of Trestlebridge on the Greenway, at Bree-Land’s most northerly extent, has been attacked repeatedly by yrch of the Tarkrîp tribe, who have burned many of its buildings, though they have been driven off so far. In the South, where much of Bree’s trade comes from, the Greenway is closed off by another group of brigands, which charge a hefty toll from all who pass, among whom have been seen ugly half-orcish cross-breeds. There are goblins in the Midgewater Marshes but they do not come out raiding. To the West lies the land of the perrianath, which is fertile and prosperous, and beyond it the Ered Luin, where both elves and dwarves may be found, and in that direction there is no difficulty in travelling; with all this in mind, Iolanthryth sent us to see if the lands to the East were still safe for travellers, as caravans from beyond the mountains have become rarer here of late.
It is known that yrch have been seen in the Lone Lands west of the Trollshaws, but only in ones and twos; indeed I saw some myself when I came to Bree from Imladris. Iolanthryth wished to know if they were deeply entrenched in that empty country; and so we set out one bright spring morning, riding toward the rising sun from the village of Hookworth where our order is based. We took the West Road, which runs south of the Midgewater Marshes, a route which is occasionally beset by brigands from the Chetwood, or goblins from the marshes. Our journey was uneventful however, and we came to the edge of the Bree-folks’ lands without incident.
Their last outpost is an inn, known variously as the Last Inn, the Lost Inn, or the Forsaken Inn. There has long been an inn there, and in happier times when there was much trade to Imladris or Eregion, doubtless it was prosperous and well tended. Now its roof is fallen in, though it is still occupied, and the lands about are neither tilled nor given to pasture. We stopped there to enquire in relation to our mission, but there was no more to hear than the usual travellers’ tales; the road to the Trollshaws is not exactly safe, but it is not closed to traffic, and we heard only what we expected to hear.
We left the road at the Forsaken Inn and made our way cross-country, directly towards Weathertop. The ground is rugged there, and there is a steep ridge between the inn and the hill; we saw crebain there, and some wolves and boar, though even the game in that country is very sparse. We saw a goblin as we climbed the ridge, scouting alone, doubtless looking to hunt for the pot; Zargodon saw it well before I did, and put an arrow in it when it was no more than a speck to me. When we crested the ridge, we saw more.
Lucky that I had an elf with me, for without my companion’s sharp eyes I might have blundered into the midst of a goblin camp! There was a small encampment not far below us when he breached the ridge-line, among a stand of trees; there was another stand a few hundred yards downwind of them, at which we tethered our horses. Zargodon made out their numbers; eight armed yrch, of the smaller sort, and a great stinking warg roaming nearby. He skirted the camp to approach from above, while I crept closer from downwind; on his signal we struck.
We each launched two arrows, and found our marks, before I leapt forward with sword drawn; my companion shot more arrows before he too came in among them with steel in his hand, I do not know how many. They stood little chance; those creatures are all cowards as you know, but they know we will not give them quarter, so it was a fierce fight, if brief. Their warg flung himself at me when all was as good as done, but I met him with my sword at full swing and split his misshapen skull. It felt good to fight that filth, though it was far from a proper battle.
We did not burn the bodies, as we did not wish to draw attention, and we found nothing of value or interest in the camp, though Zargodon searched diligently, at great cost to his sensibilities. We quickly saw that the valley betwixt the ridge and the flanks of Weathertop was infested with the vile creatures; another larger camp lay not far from our intended route, but we were able to put some trees between us and the filth, though we slew two among those trees.
It was not easy to climb the hill, as neither of us knew the way, and we made several false starts, following hopeful looking ledges into blind valleys, or to the bottoms of cliff faces. We eventually found a route that wound about the hill to the eastern side, but it was full night when we reached the summit. The moon was bright however, and the view on all sides was magnificent. It was a wonderful thing to look across those lands, once at the very heart of the North Kingdom, that have lain desolate for over a thousand years. I have ridden through that country, but to see it spread out below me, lit all in silver and glimmering greys…
The moon proved a better instrument for our reconnaissance than the sun, as Zargodon could see wonderfully well by its light, and in the day our enemies would have hidden themselves. As it was, even I could see some of the yrch in the lands about, and Zargodon spied many encampments, judging there to be many hundreds of the evil creatures, maybe even a thousand under arms on all sides of the hill but the south. If they are under the command of a single will then things could go very ill for Bree-Land.
This is when I danced my jig. Zargodon is a young elf (though near three times as old as our father) and he is very cautious. We stood at the very edge to see the valleys below as well as we might, and he began to request that I step back somewhat. Well, you know that I have ever laughed at danger, and that I have a head for heights; his discomfort was too delicious to me, though I know that it is wrong to make mock of one of his noble race. I have been learning the merry dances of the Bree-Landers, and it seemed a fine occasion to practice my steps!
Doubtless you will think me a flippant fool, but I am at least engaged in the defence of the Free Peoples.
Your brother, Deredan
