Move!

We have moved to gamescribe.wordpress.com and expanded to a multitude of games.

Storytelling: Book 3, Chapter 4 - Freeing Dori

I reached Othrikar by horse, and I hoped another rider would not take it because it was the only horse available in a stable-full of ponies. Halbarad had told me to find a dwarf-named Dori, whom I vaguely recalled from my scholar studies, and then only because the dwarf had a large stock of items that were of great importance to the scholarly profession.

I knew Hannar, one of the Othrikar leaders, as I had helped him best some of the darkened Dourhand dwarves. Hannar told me grave news that Dori, and his hoard of gems, had been captured by the Dourhands. It was believed he was being held in Ost Galumar, a Dourhand ruinhold, to the west of Othrikar. If I freed Dori, then the dwarves would decide whether to council with the Rangers.

Finding Dori was not hard. I was familiar with Ost Galumar from a prior adventure. I remember raising the flags of the Free People's from the highest stones of the ruins to give my allies hope. The flags, of course, were now down, but it amused me to think of how long and how frustrated the Dourhands had been trying to take down the flags with their short legs.

I killed Dori's guards, and opened the lock to his prison wagon. Instead of running away, something I knew we could do in a matter of minutes, Dori wanted his gems. I did not like the sound of that as I knew tougher guards would be guarding the gems. The dwarves always prized materials over people.

I was seriously considering closing the prison wagon back up, and walking away, when I noticed Moondog sitting high atop the stones peering down at us. He was singing a song about rabbit entering a snake's den to save a mole. A jesting made up on the spot. It did raise my morale enough to decide the correct and righteous course of action, even if it helped the ends of a selfish dwarf.

Dori and I strode through the deeper parts of Ost Galumar, where indeed the guards were better armored and fearsome foes. The only thing that kept me going was Moondog's continuing song of how the rabbit and mole worked together to tie the snakes into knots. Dori and I felled many Dourhand bandits and warriors, and I forgot to keep listening to the song...

But, when we finally reached the hoard of gems, the song had changed. It was a song about the Light cleansing the Dark. A song of Hope. And the tones reverbated through the quieted stones of Ost Galumar. In that moment of clarity, it seemed time stopped. Even the evil birds of the Dourhands watched Moondog's fingers and mouth evoke The Song. Dori spoiled it all with a thunk from a chest opening and an exclamation of materialistic glee.

We got him safely out of the Dourhand hold, and he ran away like a mad man.

Moondog and I also parted ways then. I stayed around Ost Galumar a while longer to gather some ancient pottery shards and dwarven relics. I would have to leave well before sunrise because the dwarves Dori had gone far out of his way to kill were many, and a huge alarm across the Dourhand territory would be raised.

I met with Hannar on my return to Othrikar. He told me that Dori had safely arrived, but he had no news of a hobbit minstrel. Hannar and Dori had discussed the Ranger's proposal before Dori had retired for a long sleep (with his gems). They agreed quickly that the dwarves would lend their might to the council to work furth to fight the Enemy.

I returned to Esteldin to give Halbarad the good news. Thankfully the horse I used was still stabled for my journey to the Ranger encampment. I didn't go in to the story about Dori's riches, and he seemed too distracted to care what I did to get the dwarves to agree. On his small desk was a map with the red markings of the Enemy slashed toward the human settlement of Trestlebridge.

Storytelling: Book 3, Chapter 3 - Fallen Once More

Mincham asked me to quickly return to Halbarad in Esteldin. He explained that because Angmar had captured such a crucial spot all of the North was in danger. The Ranger also hinted at a greater evil in the hallowed halls of Fornost, but when I pressed him, he declined to say more.

It took me longer than I expected to get to Esteldin. I stayed at a farm for a day because the farmer, allegedly the last of the North Downs, refused to give up his land to marauding orcs. I knew he would not last, but he also wouldn't budge. So I helped by killing a small outfit of orcs and returning the stolen grain. The sound of Aegrist's razor edge slicing through the rain and orcs is one I will not soon forget. I hope to return to the farmer after I deal with the Rangers of Esteldin for he is a survivor, and our world needs such tough and hardy men as he.

Halbarad gave thanks for the information, as dire as it was. His tone was respectful, but I could not understand how he could say such words without the sting of sarcasm. With the threat of three separate orc tribes, and the Rangers fighting mainly against the occupation of Dol Dinen, Halbarad believed the only way the North Downs could stand a chance was to call the people of the North Downs to council.

Moondog: Fishing in Evendim

Fishing is one of a Hobbit's favorite pass-times. And few places in Eriador are more serene and beautiful than lake Evendim.

LOTRO Videos

Ravric: Troll's Teeth

First, check out Disseminated's post containing a new first for our humble blog: VIDEO. There is a deed in the Lonelands that requires you to kill level 24-26 elite trolls from the Balt-Olog clan. To complete the deed through both stages you need to kill 180 of the fat beasts.

I set up my first event with my guild Council of the Secret Fire to just try and have a good time grinding together. I was a little worried about whether it would be fun or tiresome because normally the grinding activities are done solo.

It was a lot of fun. We started with four or five people from the guild, and we had our core group including myself, but players started rotating in and out depending on how many they wanted to kill, etc. The best part was we also had a burglar in our group, a person that can make fellowship maneuvers. Fellowship maneuvers are very powerful events that require the coordination of every member of the group to get the most juice of the event. Basically when a fellowship maneuver pops up every person in the group can pick 1 of 4 colors, and the order which those colors are picked creates a certain fellowship move. It is almost like a simple mini-game within the overlying game.

It felt to me that this was a taste of what Public Quests coming in Warhammer Online would feel like. As you stayed longer throughout the Public Quest you would begin to develop more of a relationship with others that stayed longer, however, new blood would continuously be coming in. So, I think even if you are doing a repetitious activity, this style of play keeps it fresh.

I look forward to more activities like this once in awhile. It makes grinding things out a lot more fun.

Moondog: Smiting Trolls in Harloeg

The foul abominations were running amok down in the swamps of the Lone-lands. Sure, they didn't bother anyone there, but it was clear they were gathering in preparation for an attack on the civilized realms!

Luckily Ravric mustered Councilmen Moondog, Lorthalin, Ferimgard, and some local allies to go clean up that mess!

Storytelling: Book 3, Chapter 2 - The Gates of Fornost

We stood at Mincham's camp for a time staring out across Fornost Fields. It seemed as if the sun was still determining whether to appear that early morning or whether Angmar's darkness had crept a little further towards the sunny Bree-lands.

Something being ambushed and killed in the Fields broke Mincham's reverie, and the Ranger asked me to scout out Norbury Gates for agents of The Enemy.

I was glad I was in that mythical time when the nocturnal hunters are heading to their dens and the beasts of the day had not yet awaken because my journey to the Gates was swift. The taint of orcs and the smell of wargs was immediately apparent. The fires of the orcs guided me towards their deaths.

And the wargs, guarding the gates on padded feet, I found. They died as well, although their tough animal bodies were a little stronger than the orcs. Their forms were twisted and crushed as I stepped over them to attack another group of orcs.

My arms began to tire from the slaughter. Even with the blessed strength of my Club of the Champion, with its unearthly red glow, I felt that were an alarm to be raised to a larger force. I would have to retreat a coward.

The mission, though, was complete. I had seen enough to tell Mincham, and so returned to him. I hoped to see the sun rising in my approach, but it seemed my heart was not hopeful enough.

I gave Mincham the dire news, but he seemed to already know. His days of glory were over, and now he was a mere peddler of information. I was sad as he gave me his cloak. It was a resignation of fate. I wish I could have offered him my cloak sewn by the light I know as Goldberry, but my journey is not yet over.