troll

Assault on the Red Halls

After supper I continued me story about the wee lass turned Champion of the Aes Sídhe...

My dearest Millery,

I was washing pots and pans after a meal with my brother and his beautiful family. They provided the food, I cooked and offered to tidy after.  They had left an hour before and I lazily decided to wait a while to clear the laden table as I was tired.  I was feeling drained from the day before when Errak and his little one required my services. There was definitely something sinister that had happened to them, I could feel it and it had sapped my energy healing them. 

With the sun veiled behind blood-red clouds and the fields dark and shadowed, the ground began to shake violently beneath us, and a thunderous roar of anger and outright evil shattered the peaceful evening journey we had all hoped for. 

It was the middle of the night, Uruniire, tired of the Bree-lands, longing to be in elvish lands again, got up out of bed, put on his purplish-blue and green tunic and trousers, wide-brimmed hat, blue, with a massive feather in it, and pack, stuffed to the brim with books and scrolls, some rations, a coil of rope to scale the High Moor just outside Rivendell, and a small dagger for defense, and grabbed his staff. Then he left the Inn of the Prancing Pony. He went to the stables nearby, untying his horse from it's post, and was off.

This story took place decades ago. It gives a description of the first time Dínenor was hunting trolls amongst other Dúnedain out in the Trollshaws. The story could be roughly known to rangers originating from the northern Trollshaws.

Dínenor looks up to the sky. It is full of clouds, the moon shafts sparsely through the leaves of the trees. The only light in the deep of the night is coming from three torches.