Storytelling - Book 2, Chapter 2

The wizard waited patiently while I stood there wondering whether to dig deeper in to the poison of the Lonelands. Were it any lesser creature, a simple whiff of the caustic-smelling moss and a realization that further exploration would inevitably deal further with that cesspool would send them back to Bree. The Istari's gaze, and the way he seemed to fill the room with Hope, told me to merely nod at the request.

Radagast now wished me to kill the wights that stirred in Haragmar. I had stuck mainly to the natural side of the Bloodmire, where there were only beasts to rend my flesh. Nothing unnatural, unbidden. I had seen the wights from afar. They were farther south of the Circle of Blood and west to the ruins of Nan Dhelu, but I had kept my distance. I would do as the wizard asked and close that distance.

Maiden and I scouted the Dead that walked in Haragmar, and we (with some of Radagast's help) identified the Wights' species. Radagast called the particular Wights in Haragmar the Bile-Spewers. Most were fully armed and armored, and some of even had ranged weapons. The older Wights had become bloated, and they seemed like they were ready to pop open with puss and disease. The latter seemed also to lack the more human intelligence. Luckily for us, one stood not a hundred meters away while we hacked away at one of its Dead brothers.

The Bile-Spewer Marksman were weak once engaged, but their arrows from afar were perilous. I ordered Maiden to run ahead, our Banner of War held high, to divert some of the damage. The Wight's attention was quickly removed from her and placed on me once my heavy two-handed Wind-Raker tore through its sinewy body.

The most evil of the Haragmar Wights were indeed the Deadly Bile-Spewers. Similarly to the Ancient ones, these Wights chose to go unarmored and simply used their vile magics against Maiden and me. They seemed to call forth the poison of the swamp through their lungs. The unworldly roar sounded like the dark language, and my heart grew dreadful until the Dead was vanquished. The world grows so heavy and dark, and I am grateful that Maiden is always with me. I dare not tell her these words, though. I will never hear the end of it.

As we fought our way closer to Nan Dhelu, which I perceived to be the spawning place of the Wights, we were forced to slay some of the Ancient Bile-Spewers. Much of their bloat was caused by foul smelling gas, but they also carried a Foul Wriggler inside their stomach. A few would puke the thing out while we combated, and others would simply erupt upon final death. It was an experience I quickly would like to erase from my mind: the smell of decay, the ichor of the Dead, and the eruption of bodily organs to a worm the size of my leg. I long for days of killing the comparatively clean goblins.

I retirned to Radagast, and vowed a bath before I told him of our triumphant battles with the Bile-Spewers. He was most pleased, and gave me some money so that I could ride to Bree to take such a bath. The Istari wished for my swift return as he would have further questing for me as soon as I stepped foot again in Ost Guruth.