Day 1
I have decided to keep a record of The Black Steel’s current expedition to the Lone-lands. Its purpose? To investigate, and hopefully put an end to, the recent spate of Orc attacks on trading caravans along the Great East Road.
The full background to this tale would take many more pages than I have brought with me so, in brief: the company has come into the possession of certain documents, which previously belonged to the Ranger Sendyr, aka Quintinn. These documents recorded details of his investigations into a network of brigands operating across Bree-land; and his discovery that they were working in league with an Orcish warband out in the Lone-lands.
The preparations took some time. As for myself…? Well, I am not much of adventurer, less still a warrior. I had been talking myself into and out of coming on this voyage for days, maybe weeks. Our venture in the Wildwood last month, and the subsequent race against time around half of Breeland, was more than enough excitement for me. Even Morfryn, an experienced and mighty warrior, was nearly killed.
All the same there has always been... something, about this company. From the very first time I met them I was struck by their selfless desire to do good - to protect others. And to me, having spent my whole life in my father's shadow, vainly trying to make him happy... it spoke to something in me. Something that needed to breathe.
Still, I must have been quite mad when I finally decided to come along. Perhaps Fiontann is too, for allowing it.
At any rate in the end we all rode out - Fiontann, Morfryn, Lheuwen, Remaric, a newcomer named Raengilith, and myself - to learn what we may about the attacks.
We had barely passed the Midgewater Marsh when we came upon an overturned hobbit-wagon by the side of the road. We rescued an injured Hobbit by the name of Dolgo, and brought him on to the Forsaken Inn. He told us that his wife Bella was taken in an attack by goblins. We promised that when it was light we would do what we could to find her.
At the inn, we also spoke to a stranger named Gregwald, who told us there was a notable goblin camp in the Weather Hills.
Days 2-3
The last two days have flown by - and yet somehow it feels like longer.
We ventured north from the inn into the hills, looking for signs of goblins - a wearying trek for me, being used to riding! We made it as far as a cliff above what I believe must have been the Midgewater River, where we came upon some goblin scouts. Morfryn decided to descend the cliff to scout the ruins on the other side, looking for the goblin camp; but he was scarcely across the river before several great spiders, like those we encountered in the Wildwood, descended from the cliffs and attacked the goblins. Unfortunately, some of them also spotted Morfryn. From the cliff, the rest of us tried to shoot at them, drawing off a few; but it was still a fierce battle before we were able to withdraw. It turned out there were no tracks leading that way anyway.
We turned southeast from the river, and heading in this direction, we soon found a large goblin camp in a dell below us. Morfryn drew the goblins away to the north, allowing Raengilith and myself to sneak into the camp and rescue their two prisoners - two men, named Gael and Marden; one a local from a camp named Ost Guruth, the other a wealthy silver merchant of Dale, captured in another attack on a caravan. We managed to get them safely back to the Forsaken Inn to tend to their wounds.
And, as for me… I shot three goblins today. They are vile creatures, I know - and yet… I have never killed anything so intelligent before. I am not sure how I feel about it. I keep seeing their bodies when I close my eyes.
My leg hurts. I stepped on a goblin-trap while I was trying to rescue Marden. Luckily it wasn’t a very good one… I hope it doesn’t become infected.
I’m going to check on the horses. If I’m being honest, it’s more for me than it is for them.
