Come to me... upon a peak behind your inn.
Agromnir continued wandering the rocky hill above Bree, asking himself why he had thought climbing this hill with a crutch half-replacing the role of a now injured right leg was a good idea. And just before he decided to turn back and head back down, the young watchman found him, standing near the edge of a cliff, with the Prancing Pony and all of Bree below him. And the structure of an old, forgotten ruin behind him. The elf Galgardor. The one who started everything in the past many weeks. The coward who did not accompany him to the barrows.
Galgardor stared into the distance. “Your quest has not gone according to plan...”
Agromnir took a deep breath, recovering from the slow hike up. “Ya think?”
There was a slight pause. “And where did it go wrong?” the elf inquired.
Agromnir shook his head, looking out into Bree and past it himself. Past it, towards those high hills, and just behind it, the Barrow-downs. “...Where did it go wrong? Well for starters, we definitely could've used an extra hand in the Barrows. Things might've changed if you'd come along, who knows.”
“I sent another in my stead,” Galgardor said back.
“Right... of course,” Agro replied sarcastically. “Do elves not seem to understand that two is always better than one with such things? Hm?” He turns to stare at him.
Galgardor remained still. “Mortals such as yourself rarely understand the gravity of the situations you are in. You cannot throw an army at the task of painting a wall when a few will suffice. Clearly,” he continued evenly, “something greater than Duindos took your charge... who has it and where has it gone?”
Agromnir rolled his eyes and was quiet for a moment. “It was what they call a Cargul or wraith that took it,” he then said. “What happened is quite a long story.”
“Then your world grows ever more threatened,” Galgardor remarked, still staring out into the far distance.
Agromnir let out a quiet sigh and looked farther up into the darkening sky. “Indeed. A threat worth an army?” he joked.
“Perhaps now it is.”
“Ah. Well, elves don't exactly have the gift of foresight, that’s for sure,” the watchman retorted rather sardonically.
The black-armored warrior turned slightly. “Do we not? If not for our doing you would have slept soundly as the shadow consumed you, unawares.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Agro simply responded.
“Too many of you have failed... I'm afraid that I must now take matters into my own hands,” Galgardor added.
“About time.”
“—I must know where this Cargul is... I shall slay it and reclaim the stone for myself.”
“That’s the way to do it, wait until the last minute to send yourself in. Let the weak do it all at first for you,” Agromnir muttered with annoyance. “And we have no idea where the Cargul is. Not really anyway,” he said, getting to the point.
“Then you must find it.”
Agromnir tilted a brow slightly. “Me, eh?”
“Should it reach the far North or South... not even I will be able to stop the events to come.”
“Not even you,” Agro echoed.
There was a small moment of silence.
“I understand your hostilities... I've not been entirely fair,” the elf said quietly.
“Oh? You've finally realized it... interesting.” The watchman chuckled slightly, shaking his head to himself.
“I would mind your tongue nonetheless…” Galgardor quickly added.
Agromnir didn't respond. But a slight smirk started to sneak onto is face.
“I have attempted to search for the stone within my mind, and I cannot see it,” the old warrior began after another pause of words. “It must be far indeed. Or perhaps intentionally hidden from my sight.”
“...In Evendim the Cargul disappeared along with another of your kind. And I may mean that quite literally. But look, if you wanna hear the whole story and current situation, how 'bout you travel to Draugmir and ask those there. They're the ones looking for the Cargul, not me. I ain’t doin' no such thing.”
“Souls have returned to Draugmir?” Galgardor inquired with mild surprise, finally turning to fully look at the man. “Then I shall make my way at once.”
“AH, that would be absolutely splendid,” beamed the snarky watchman.
“Your sarcasm is not lost on me.. man,” he said, staring at him from beneath his dark hood.
Agromnir smiled just slightly. “Oh, I'm quite aware,” he answered.
Galgardor suddenly whistled, and a large white elk soon started trotting down from the top of the hill behind the ruin.
Agromnir turned towards the sound of hooves trotting, an eyebrow shooting up in confusion. “...How??” He thought back to the time he had spoken with Duindos and Calagand at this same spot. Duindos had had a creature, though not the same, come down from the same steep side of the hill at his command as well. “What, do you have a whole secret, hidden, invisible barn of creatures up there or something?” he asked, half-meaning it. “You must do.”
Galgardor, now upon his steed, peered down at Agromnir, a slow and rare smile forming on his face. “Should shadows come, invoke these words... Galgardor, tul-forth i galad- o min nos an ha na- i will -o Eru. This is my gift to your kind.”
“...You expect me to remember that?”
“You will not need to...”
Agromnir frowned and opened his mouth to speak—
“—I've etched it upon a stone. You shall find it in your waistcoat pocket,” the elf continued shortly.
“Wait, what?” Agro said, fishing for the object.
And with that, the elk whisked the ancient warrior away to the North.
