Marching Towards Annuminas : Mission, Dol Dinen

09.9.23 Mission Dol Dinen:

Hunhir convened the party just outside Esteldin's grand hall, detailing a meticulously crafted rescue plan. The bold stratagem involved an ambush on a caravan en route to the Dol Dinen encampment. In order to infiltrate the enemy lines without raising suspicion, they would don the guise of orcs. The operation demanded speed and subtlety, thus the force was to be lightly equipped. Journeying towards the designated ambush point, fate smiled upon them as they crossed paths with Elur, an esteemed scout of Esteldin. Validating their intelligence, Elur confirmed the proximity of the target caravan. With urgency, the party opted for stealth, dismounting their steeds to proceed on foot. Fortuitously, they stumbled upon a deceased auroch, whose formidable bulk was strategically positioned to obstruct the caravan's path. Concealed by the natural camouflage of trees and rocks, they anxiously awaited their quarry.

The caravan, consisting of a mere ten warg-riders, unsuspectingly ventured into the trap. The skirmish was swift and decisive. While eight adversaries met their end amidst the fray, two wavered and surrendered. Nonetheless, Hunhir, prioritizing the mission's success, deemed their presence a liability and eliminated them. Given the limited supply of orcish armor, the party reached a consensus. A fraction would impersonate their foes, while the others would adopt the role of captives to lend credibility to their ruse.

As they approached the ominous gates of Dol Dinen, the towering troll sentinels proved gullible, admitting them without suspicion. Their murmured exchanges hinted at a certain 'Toragol', an unfamiliar name to The alliance. Further reconnaissance revealed that the camp's defenses were surprisingly thin. However, whispered mentions of the "Mistress of the Citadel" evoked a sense of foreboding. Navigating through a landscape littered with derelict siege engines, a plume of eerie green smoke marked their destination atop the hill. It was here they discovered their kinsfolk, Thonin, Freylis, and Dragnar, bound in chains. As they hastened to liberate them, the atmosphere grew tense, punctuated by the resonating march of an approaching battalion. Emerging at the helm of this armored uruk legion was the ominous figure of Degram, draped in his distinctive red robe. Their exit now blocked, Hunhir bravely stepped forward, urging the party to shield the newly-freed dwarrow. Yet, before he could mount any form of defense, the treacherous Mulwag, an Angmarir in blue robes, struck him down from the shadows. The party, now encircled, faced the taunts of the Angmarir brothers, who expressed their intentions to present them to their mysterious 'Lord' in Angmar. Though the dwarves exhibited characteristic resilience, they were eventually overwhelmed by the superior numbers of the uruks. As surrender became inevitable, Thandanar defiantly hurled a Sindarin insult at the gloating Angmarim, expressing the undying spirit of resistance.....

In the shadowy heart of a cave, the party's senses were abruptly restored as sacks were removed from their heads. The dim light revealed stony walls and the distant echoes of haunting voices. Degram, their unexpected leader in this dire moment, roused them with a sense of urgency. "The Lord awaits... our moment on stage is nigh." Emerging from the cavern's embrace, a desolate scene greeted them: black hills beneath the gloom of grey skies. They found themselves atop a plateau, an audience to an arena formed by menacing orcs, trolls, Angmarim, and Hill-Men. At its center stood a figure, a shimmering enigma draped in crimson and gold, his gaze locked onto a blood-red orb. This was Toragol, the name whispered in fearful reverence by the orcs. In a desperate attempt to instill some semblance of hope, Snjorblom, a dwarf bard of the party, began to sing tales of brighter times. His melodies were silenced with a swift blow from Toragol, who intimated that Snjorblom would serve as a delightful gift for High Priestess Asachal—the very force that reclaimed the dreaded Fortress of Carn Dum for Angmar.

With a terrifying mastery over dark arts, Toragol showcased his power by conjuring storms and fierce flames. He then chillingly demonstrated his ruthlessness, holding Hunhir's life as a bargaining chip to ensure the party's obedience. With his message delivered, Toragol departed to confer with his newfound Lady. What followed was a heart-wrenching scene: Hunhir, battered and barely recognizable, was carelessly tossed before them. Degram's whispers poisoned the already tormented mind of Hunhir, inciting him against Thandanar with tales of treachery on the Pelennor Fields. Their confrontation was brutal, with Thandanar's every move aimed at freeing his friend from the dark shackles binding his mind. Amidst this turmoil, the resounding call of horns pierced the air. Gondorian banners, a sea of white and silver, flooded the plateau. And leading this surge was a beacon of hope: Lord Belenir Thend of Gondor. While Enniliel, a skilled ranger, tended to the wounded Hunhir, ensuring he clung to life, the reunited dwarves shared light-hearted banter, contrasting the grim backdrop. But Belenir's focus remained on Degram, now wounded and gasping. As Degram's life waned, he spat a final curse, foretelling of his brother's vengeance. Yet, in the presence of Gondor's might, such threats were silenced by the swift and righteous blade of Belenir. Reclaiming their possessions, the team was quick to regroup, and as more horns signaled the approaching Angmarim, they mounted a swift retreat. Their destination was clear: Esteldin, the sanctuary amidst chaos.