Echad Sul, 23rd day of Iavas
The past few days have been rather more troubling to us than the initial passage of the Trollshaws.
Though our hearts were lightened in meeting some friends on the way, we have unfortunately encountered orc scouts – first in the lowlands of Nain Enidh, then in greater numbers above, in the hills about Amon Sûl.
More worrying still, as we stood by the tumbled stones of Echad Sûl, there fell most subtly a strange air of confusion about our party: it was as if words were spoken, yet unheard in full by the listener – and a dull heaviness hung near, as a shadowy wolf, creeping slowly closer, focused upon a prey of which it has caught a scant trace. The sense of unease was devious, and one only gradually became aware of it.
All at once, Durthand, who was detached to keep a watch on our rear, returned to report the approach of a party of orcs – two score or so – across the hillside behind us. With haste we departed, though it seemed hazy, as if in a dream, and heeding Elgaraen’s warning of an orc camp to the west, we cut north across a ford. A few orc scouts stood in our way and were swiftly cut down.
We would have travelled on, but the mounts were burdened with fatigue and needed rest. Knowing of a secluded hollow atop a cliff nearby, we lead the horses there, picking our way lightly over rock and stone as Aearandir and Durthand set a false trail towards the marshlands below.
More urgently, it has been noticed that some of the party have fallen behind. There is no question of going on without them: Durthand and Aearandir have now sallied forth to seek for them along the orc-ridden path behind us.
Strangely, the sense of…befuddlement…of some terrible presence…has lifted, replaced by the weariness of our journey. I wonder what presence might create such an aura – to affect our speech and thoughts so. The approaching orc warband has not pursued us…yet I feel they were seeking something; what is their purpose here? What do they seek? Surely not a small company of elves travelling west?
The remainder of the party sleep or meditate; all except Randir, who stands watch, his eyes gazing with mixed wonder, pride and sorrow at the great mound of Amon Sûl that fills our view.
