Awaiting the army

Weathertop - Southern Base

You gaze up in wonderment at the sheer immensity of this hill, and wonder what freak of nature could have caused such a beast to spring up out of the ground. Clearly this was the perfect spot for a watch tower, back in the early third age before the forces of Angmar and Rhudaur razed it to the ground. The slope before you looks to be a long but not too difficult climb if you wish to ascend this ancient place.

Contents:

Halbarad

Giliath

Dwarven Camp

Obvious exits:

Up leads to Amon Sul.

South leads to East Road - Below Weathertop.

[Frarin] Late morning finds the dwarven camp both sleepy and busy. Tucked into the relative protection provided at the foot of Weathertop, the dwarves have erected various tents and cooking stands, and strung long lines to tie their many ponies to. Several fires dot the camp, carefully tended to keep from smoking. The lingering smell of breakfast pervades these firepits, while dwarves go to and fro, cleaning up the morning meal or mending worn clothes or tending to weapons. Other dwarves, however, sit idly around the camp, as if anxious to be at work, lending to the air a feeling of fretful impatience.

Near the edge of camp sits a lone dwarf, distinguished by the red scars that mar his face and the blue war hammer at his belt. He sits on a small grey rock, a pipe gently smoking between his teeth. Clad in a light white shirt, his attention for the moment seems to be on a dark red tunic spread across his lap, which he appears to be carefully mending.

[Giliath(#9838)] Someone has been coming this direction a shifting in the grass, a breath of wind - Giliath is not quite invisible, he does have breath and body and weight - but he leaves no tracks behind, nor gives any sound to tell of his coming. When he comes to the edge of the dwarven camp, he stands for a moment, near the one who sits and smokes, and his expression is unreadable. Noisy, perhaps it says. Loud. Obvious. Such a camp... Finally, he swings a deer from his shoulders, lowering it to the ground, and straightening.

[Ovor(#20753)]      Another Dwarf walks around the camp, speaking quietly to others every now and then. A war hammer rests upon his shoulder, grasped with one hand while the other offers a silver flask to the Dwarves that he stops to speak with. His wandering path eventually brings him near the smoking Dwarf, though his attention is rather on another with whom he is speaking.

[Frarin] Grey-blue smoke wraps itself gently around the head of the seated dwarf, called Frarin by most, who pushes a needle through the red tunic and tugs at the thread. At that moment another dwarf, this one clad as a soldier and guard, gives a faint cry. Frarin\'s head comes swiftly up, eyes following the outstretched arm of the guard and landing upon the near-silently arrived elf. With a start, Frarin rises, grabbing the bowl of his pipe and laying a hand upon the hammer at his side as the red tunic falls to the ground.

The dwarf behold Giliath for a moment, perhaps something of annoyance working its way into his dark eyes, annoyance at the elf\'s unbidden arrival and his failure to notice it. \"Halt you, stranger,\" says Frarin firmly, peering hard but not yet withdrawing his weapon. \"State your name and business before you come closer. I have not seen your face here before.\"

[Giliath(#9838)] Something quirks in Giliath\'s eyes - a hint of humor, possibly, as he looks from one dwarf to the other. But he stands quietly, making no move to draw either the bow that is strapped over his cloak, or the sword that hangs beneath it. \"I am Giliath,\" he says. \"My business is, perhaps, evident,\" he waves a hand at the dead deer on the ground. \"But I will say it. I have brought this deer. If you find you are not in need of it, I shall take it elsewhere.\"

Elladan is picking his way carefully down the hill

Elladan has arrived.

[Ovor(#20753)]      The other Dwarf bearing a hammer, this one the Thane of Clan Zinbar Ovor, turns at the cry of the guard. His hammer is swung down into his hand after the flask is put away, eyes narrowing at the sight of the Elf. The Thane takes a few steps forward, eyes flicking between the deer and Giliath before he frowns, a gleam of suspicion in his eyes. For now, however, he lets Frarin talk.

[Frarin] Frarin eyes the elf for a moment, not seeming to share any of the other\'s humour, though his expression is not unwelcoming. \"Very well,\" he replies gruffly, \"then that is your immediate business. Our cook will no doubt find a use for it, we have not had fresh meat for a time.\" This the dwarf says with a certain hollowness, as if speaking only to conceal further scrutiny of the new arrival. \"But do you roam Eriador merely to provide its travellers with food, Master Elf?\" A jesting question, perhaps, but there is no humour in his tone.

[Giliath(#9838)] As the dwarf becomes more serious and sober, Giliath seems to grow less. The laughter in his eyes moves to his voice as he replies, \"When it is needed.\" His words are perfectly understandable, though the accent in them is odd, archaic perhaps. \"My business,\" he muses. \"I came to see the winds bend over the plains, and to watch the sun burn away the dew. I have business with the stars, and what they shine upon, and the road that winds away yonder. Early this morning, I found this deer that I had sought which had been frightened from my arrow before, by a clumsy ill-made man, which grunted along that road and being not hungry, I brought it to you.\"

[Ovor(#20753)]      The Thane grunts slightly, finally swinging his war hammer back onto his shoulder. \"That does not sound like an enjoyable way to spend one\'s morning.\" The words are rumbled out by Ovor as he shakes his head, still looking at the deer cautiously before taking the flask from his belt, taking a bare sip before lowering it.

[Frarin] The seriousness slowly slips from Frarin\'s face, but rather than follow the elf\'s example of laughter, he eyes Giliath instead with something of silent disbelief. Heavy brows rise and a frown forms upon the dwarf\'s face as Giliath speaks, and his eyes even dart to others about the camp, as if to confirm that he is not alone in hearing such riddled words. A nod is cast to Ovor as the Thane comes forward.

\"Aye, Master Elf, you speak in strange riddles and with a lightness that does not suit this land as it is. Strange is your tongue and your words alike, but such are all accents of this place to my ears. Know you what darkness threatens this land, if your business is with all that the stars shine upon?\"

[Elladan(#27059)] Another one approaches the camp from the north. A tall grey figure comes walking down the slope of the hill all the way to where the dwarves rest. Briefly, he skims those gathered here until his gaze settles on the deer\'s carcass. Eventually he looks up. \"If not for the stars, the darkness would long have covered this land,\" he speaks. Then his tone shifts and he gestures at the deer. \"A fine prey. I wish though it was a warg, for that hunt will be different.\"

[Giliath(#9838)] \"Lightness suits the land,\" Giliath reproves. \"The grasses bend lightly beneath the wind that blows lightly upon them, and the sun touches lightly the dew.\" Still there is laughter in eyes and in voice but it fades at the end, and he becomes as sober as the dwarves he speaks to. \"I know better than you and yours what darkness threatens,\" he replies, and his eyes are shadowed with memories. \"Be care...\" He stops as someone else comes up, and nods. \"I saw none of those,\" he says, almost apologetically. \"But my trail led me away.\"

[Ovor(#20753)]      The Thane offers the flask to Frarin, and seems about to speak when the new voice is heard. Scowling, Ovor turns slightly, eyes narrowed slightly as he looks at the new arrival. After a few moments, he simply grunts.

[Frarin] Frarin\'s disbelief leaves his expression far quicker than its slow onset, swiftly replaced by a shadowed, stony gaze. His frown deepens at Giliath\'s own dark expression, moreso with the elf\'s barely spoken warning. But what unhappiness lingers behind the dwarf\'s eyes does not spill forth, for another elf suddenly approaches and this one seems to command more respect of Frarin. He bows deeply.

\"Hail, Herion,\" he says, respectfully raising a hand to decline Ovor\'s offered flask.

Elladan returns the bow with a polite nod. \"Greetings,\" he says simply. To Giliath he adds then: \"Worry not, we shall find them soon enough.\"

[Giliath(#9838)] The other elf nods, but his face is a study in contradictions, and there is no joy there. Rather it is the expression of one who sees ahead only pain and sorrow and grief, and girds himself to face it. \"We shall,\" he agrees. \"But not soon enough - would that this were finished and done with.\"

[Frarin] Frarin watches the two elves curiously, perhaps still musing over Giliath\'s strange change of temper. Without a word he reaches for the neglected red tunic at his feet and brushes a few stray grasses from it. \"Have we news of the host?\" the dwarf queries, specifically avoiding a glance towards Giliath, as if the elf\'s mixture of emotions ill-suits his own temperament.

[Elladan(#27059)] \"They are ever advancing, that is all I know,\" states Elrond\'s son. \"Have you news of the hilltop? Its present structure alone should provide some cover from the host, but we should prepare the place for their arrival. Fire is one thing that has always worked against the orc-kind - can we arrange for that?\"

[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath seems to have fallen into a reverie remembered visions of fire and stone, of war and death, that only he can see. At any rate, he neither notices the withdrawal of the dwarf, nor responds to Elladan\'s question.

[Ovor(#20753)]      \"Fire?\" The Thane grunts slightly. \"Depends upon how you would have it so. I would prefer pitch or oil soak the ground before and light it when they are atop it! They will burn properly.\" A quiet, grim laugh comes from Ovor as he slips his flask under his belt. \"At any rate, it will be difficult without the right suplies. We marched to war, after all.\"

[Frarin] \"Several of our company have been to the top of the hill,\" nods Frarin, the businessdwarf in him flowering as Giliath\'s wandering words are replaced with what the dwarf seems to believe more practical issues. \"Those stones that lie loose are being moved to create low barriers should our plans fail and the old tower is assaulted\"

He nods to Ovor as the Thane speaks. \"Aye, fire is a useful tool against orcs, but it is difficult to employ here. We have nothing to burn beyond plains grass. If we work quickly, we might make a shallow ditch about the tower and fill it with grass. If we take refuge atop the tower, such a defence could be lit by arrow, though it would not long burn before its fuel is spent.\"

Elladan nods curtly. \"Very well,\" he concludes. \"Then we must create ditches and pitfalls. Some filled with grass, other with sharp spikes. I will help your kin conceal those traps. And if all goes well in the end, we should not need employ those means at all.\"

[Frarin] Again Frarin nods, shielding his eyes as he looks up at the looming shape of Weathertop. \"That is best. It is similar to the work we attempted to carry out in Bree.\" A glance here is thrown to Ovor, a comradely look of shared suffering. \"Here at least we have more willing hands. But Thane Ovor is right. We marched to war, or at least ambush. And before then we marched only for trade. Most of our company carrying hand weapons, meant only to defend while upon the road. We carry no bows or other suitable siege weapons. If it comes to defending Weathertop, we dwarves might be better employed in counter-attacks rather than defence.\"

[Ovor(#20753)]      At the mention of Bree, the Thane scowls and gives a disgusted shake of his head before he nods slightly at Frarin\'s words. \"Some of us, at least, should be on the defence while the rest held in reserved for counters. No more than a handful, though.\" A thoughtful silence comes upon him as he, too, looks at Weathertop.

[Elladan(#27059)] \"I know,\" comments Elladan. \"Still, weathertop is the only suitable place for an ambush, unless we can lure the host into the midgewaters. So, let us focus on wargs and the scouts of the orcish leader for now. Speaking of scouts, I will venture east to spy upon the foul ones. I should be back at dawn.\" He nods once to each of the present, then he turns and quickly walks off to the east.

[Frarin] \"Aye, Herion,\" says Frarin, \"we shall await your return.\" And he bows to Elladan\'s retreating back. Pulling the half-mended red tunic over his head and securing a broad black belt about his waist, Frarin bows then also to Ovor. \"I will also away, lord. With your leave, I shall check the preparations at the top of the old tower, then see perhaps what tools might be had for digging ditches. Ever more ditches.\" And yes, there it is, a hint of humour in the sober dwarf\'s voice, a flash of mirth in his eyes. Then it is gone, as is Frarin himself, replacing pipe between teeth and climbing the trail to the top of Weathertop with a steady stride.

[Ovor(#20753)]      The Thane nods slightly after a sigh. \"Seems to be our task this side of the Mountains. Digging, digging, ever digging.\" A brief flicker of a smile appears on the Thane\'s face as Frarin walks the Thane remains in place for a few moments before going back amongst the Dwarves, flask out once more.