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, Prologue - Fires in the North

Frideric gave word that I was to meet with a Ranger named Candaith. I had met the Man a time or two before, and even fought side-by-side on Weathertop. Many adventurers in the Lonelands believed the Ranger to be lazy. His camp was hidden in a small copse of trees in the shadow of Weathertop right by a large orc encampment, and it was there he mostly remained.

I bid farewell to Frideric, vowing a return someday. A quick glance at the others in the ruinhold (especially the gruff guards that never warmed up to me) told me ther were no more goodbyes to make. I left Ost Guruth at night without a backward glance.

My way to Candaith's camp was easily made. Although there were no goblin scouts on the way, my name had echoed across the orc-kind's walls in the Lonelands. If they saw me it was likely they pretended not to.

I made camp for the remainder of the night at Candaith's fire. He explained to me that Esteldin, the Ranger stronghold of the North Downs had ordered me... ordered me to return. The threat of Angmar in that region was growing out of control. There were rumors of three different tribes of the orc-kind gathered in the North Downs. A dire situation indeed.

A few nights later, I made it to Esteldin. Like Ost Guruth, it was another ruinhold; however Esteldin was far more defensible than the patch-holed Ost Guruth. It seemed as if the Rangers were expecting me. The stable-hand nodded as I handed him the reins, and then nodded off towards the Ranger's quarters.

Halbarad was one of the commanding Rangers in Esteldin. Word is that Aragorn, chieftain of the Rangers, placed Halbarad in charge of Esteldin. Such a station was a commanding mark in itself, but rumors abounded that Halbarad ran a very tight operation with his Rangers. Any one of the men could fell twenty orcs before falling... if they didn't melt into the countryside before they met orc-blade.

Throughout my ride north I had been mulling being commanded to arrive at Esteldin post-haste. I wanted to storm in and demand apology. A captain of my rank is not commanded by a Ranger, no matter how helpful my arrival is to the Free Peoples. Instead, I chose to let Halbarad speak first. I did not want to harm my reputation with the Rangers of Esteldin by saying something hot-headed. I was just a mere aquaintance, but at least I was that.

My pent-up rage, fled immediately as Halbarad told me of my legend throughout the Rangers of the lands. Although he did not directly ask me for my help, he said that my strength was needed in the North Downs more than ever. With the rumors of the three orc tribes and the recent attack on the human settlement of Trestlebridge, I could only nod in agreement to the unasked question.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 9 - Agamaur Secured

My service to Radagast was at an end, for now. The farewell was hasty, and I knew I had become merely a speck of dust in the wizard's tale. The thought of a future time when the Strength of Man would no longer need the Istari "counselors" would be a good one. They were helpful, no doubt, but also fickle. Fickle like elves fleeing to the west.

Elsa, a few surviving Eglain, and the half-cursed shades had created a rudimentary outpost in Agamaur. I granted Elsa's request to carry some stuff back to Ost Guruth, as I was heading to the ruinhold anyway. A swift horse was ready to carry me back to Bree, and then north. I had heard the Rangers of Esteldin needed help... against Angmar.

I left through the Red Pass with a bittersweet thought. Ivar and the Red Maid still stood, their poison still flowing into the forsaken lands. Had I really accomplished that much during my time in the Lonelands? Had I really made a difference? People talk of how if the Lonelands fall, Bree-land might be next. I do not see any part of the Lonelands still standing. Northward there may be greater hope.

Hana gave me curt thanks for the delivery. Ever since Maiden gave her an mouthful of mirth for giving me a few extra biscuits with my normal ration purrchases, my dealings with Hana had been overly business like. I do not think I will ever bee seeing her again.

Frideric, the elder of the Eglain, was a more cheerful face to see. He told me of how supply lines between the ruinhold and the Agamaur outpost. I saw a little change then. Maybe other brave adventurers would oust Ivar and his red bride. Maybe I would eventually heed their call.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 8 (ii) - The Red Pass

The shade shouted to his companions-in-death, and immediately the whole area arose with a force of ghostly heroes. They charged outward and led us towards Garth Agarwen, where the gaunt lord would be found. The sight of following the cursed shades into battle to fight The Enemy filled me with such great hope. They were unstoppable, and wights fell before our mortal blades could reach them.

After the din of the ghostly blades vanished into the background, we found ourselves surrounded by Eglain and Radagast. It seemed that during our battle with Neven, Radagast had come upon the two lost Eglain and their company.


I spoke with Elsa briefly, and she said that Ivar was far too powerful. He controlled the wights, the water, and even the trees. She felt that with Radagast at her side we might have a chance, but Ivar was not the source of evil. I saw the brown wizard waiting impatiently in another area of their last bastion encampment; so, I figured I would tell her the tale of the Red Maid another day. This one would be filled with hope and the fall of Ivar.


We strode towards the gates of Garth Agarwen, and as Elsa had predicted the water rose up against us again. Radagast called a halt to Ivar's weak manuevers and summoned the gaunt lord forward. Ivar appeared and use foul magics to stop us where we stood. Radagast smirked as he was impervious to the Angmar-magics. It was a battle like none I had ever seen. Radagast called lightning from the sky while Ivar called evil spirits from below. The gaunt man was the first to cry out in pain, and ran away. He claimed the Red Maid would have us soon enough, but the wizard's final words were stronger in heart.

The wizard thanked us for the help. He said he would be staying with the Eglain for sometime to help combat the now known threat. My heart was pulling me north, but I knew I would help Radagast in due time.


After a brief respite, I met Radagast at his new study in Barad Dhorn - the new forward Eglain encampment. On the way in, Elsa and her spectral companion, Dannasen, both thanked me again for my help. The battle lines were now fully drawn in the Lonelands. Radagast thanked me with little ceremony and few words. He knew our paths would cross again, in some form, and I knew that with the wizard behind the Eglain, the while light of hope was shining strong across the red swamp.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 8 (i) - The Red Pass

Radagast told me of how two Eglain, Elsa and Eriac headed into Agamaur, the northern marshes of the Red Swamp to fight the evil. The Eglain knew of a passageway to the area, the Red Pass, and Radagast said he too would lead us there. Radagast still believed the fool Eglain to be alive, and I had the hope to believe him. Our fellowship grew under the leadership of Radagast for we would need much power to face The Enemy.

Radagast led our fellowship through the Red Pass, and we saw the poisonous marsh Agamaur. At least in Haragmar it seemed like a few things could survive, like the insects. Northward, the Red Maid's influence was much more complete. Even the trees had become evil and untoward in the blood-red water.

There was hope, however, as we defeated the giant trees small animals came forward to talk with the brown wizard. He spoke to them as if talking to children. Children that were not in any mortal danger. Soon, we had a small parade of animals following our fellowship.

After slaying a company of wights guarding the ruins, which Radagast believed the lost Eglain to be holding, we found ourselves faced with a heavy iron gate. The way was locked against us. The ancient wizard used his magics and the gate raised. Inside the ruins a single shade stood watching our approach. The Eglain were not yet found.

Dannasen, the forsaken shade, wished to help us, but his commander-after-life had allied with The Enemy. Dannasen had no power to betray his commander, even if it meant killing innocent Eglain. He hinted to Radagast that if his dead commander were killed again, Dannasen and his company of accursed shades could help us defeat Ivar.

Neven, the wight lord was found just north of the hold Dannasen was protecting. He sat on a makeshift throne surrounded by wights, and like Dannasen, found himself amused by our approach. His humor only improved when I challenged him for the release of the shades.

And defeat him we did. I commanded our fellowship to group in a tight formation. The two vile wights that accompanied Nevin were felled by our hunters before they met our tight wall of steel. Dolley, a fellow captain, and I bellowed challenges of such strength that the bone-like throne on which Nevin had sat began to crumble. The flames of our Alowen's lore turned Nevin's body to ash. There were no dying words to upset Ambrianna's song of our victory.

Ambrianna retold the tale to Dannasen, and the veil of his curse lifted. He could not believe he had been following a wight's orders for the untold years. It was time, he said, to rise up now that he saw the light of hope.

I will finish the tale after I take a draught of wine, my friend. The tale is a long one indeed, and it must be complete if it is to inspire the Free Peoples.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 7 - History of the Red Maid

Emelin, once again, repeated the story of the land. I understood that the shade wanted me to get the details correct so that I could relate it to Radagast the Brown, but it was tiring to remain absolultely polite through the third or fourth telling of how the Arthedain were cursed for not protecting the Red Maid. Although it wasn't as clear before, I did understand moreso that the Red Maid, herself, poisoned the land to this end - the land she used to protect.

I gave my best 'understood'-nod as he told me to return to my master, in which he meant the Istari. I knew the wizard and I would have a small chuckle at Emelin's mislaid belief, but I also knew I wouldn't have the stones to relate this to the ancient man in an amusing way.

Ost Guruth seemed a little brighter in spirit when I returned; further proof that my actions have more purpose than the vanquishment of The Enemy.

When I told Radagast, he didn't seem surprised. It seemed I had give him only mild confirmation of what he knew long ago. He then spoke of some youths being lost. It was as if this conversation we had had happened someplace else in time. The more I deal with Radagast, the more I grow wary of any magics at all. The strength of Men should not rely on such a chaotic thing.

From the look on my face the brown wizard realized that this conversation had not yet taken place in our time, and told me of how two Eglain youths had set out to save the ruinhold from Ivar. Radagast hoped that the two could be returned after given a wise lecture. I tried to also look hopeful, but I figured if they had already made it into Agamaur - the blood swamp - they were already dead.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 6 - In the Gaunt-Lord's Grasp

The shade, Emelin, told me a story of the land. A River-maiden, like Goldberry, protected the land, but as the land filled with the blood of the war, the Lady changed. No longer was she the beautiful spirit of the land; now she was filled with blood. The Lady became the Red-maid. The land became poisoned. And as luck would have it, she slept. The story (and reason) for the heavy curse laid upon these lost soldiers was more heavy than I could believe.

When the great Gaunt-lord, Ivar the Blood-hand, came to raise the Red-maid, he also started enslaving the ghostly soldiers. Emelin told me about the wight-lord Brudhraw who was given command of some of these enslaved ghosts. I looked westward at the ruins of Nindur.

I sounded a cry for help throughout the Lonelands because Brudhraw's taint on the swamp of Harloeg must be cleansed. Beogardo, Dolley, and Ambrianna answered my call. They too had heard of the tale of Emelin, and the sorrowful tale of the Red-maid was repeated by Emelin before we left for Nindur at sunrise. Ambrianna quietly sang a song of hope as we broke our fasts.

As we traveled westward the pink morning light of the Lonelands was hidden behind heavy dark clouds. We felled many rotten wights on our way. Beogardo's arrows sometimes felling the foul bodies before my Wind-Raker could tear through the body. I was pleased and told Beogardo of a tactic that would cause even more damage to the enemy. I knew he used it well as arrows screamed down from the sky. We reached the innermost sanctum of Nindur quickly, and the morning light was no more. Only the dread lights of the Angmar-kind lit the way.

We saw Brudhraw with his wights in the sanctum, and the enslaved ghosts of the Arthedain. I peered up from the stairs and saw Brudhraw yelling at his wights. An Arthedain saw me and caught my eye. He hung his head in shame. I knew he could not help me until I slew his overlord. I charged up the stairs yelling a fierce battle cry, and Brudhraw answered the call back. My heart filled with some dread as I faced the ancient wight-lord, but my fellowships strength kept me strong enough to face the ancient evil.

The top of the sanctum became a place of chaos quite quickly. The music of place became heavenly, and my dread began to vanish. The symphony of my whistling axe, Dolley's courageous yells, and Beogardo's screaming arrows were tightly bound together in the morale boosting song given by Ambrianna. The echos of our battle-song broke the chains of the Arthedain soldiers, and they took up arms against the wight underlings. It was up to us to face Brudhraw, however. And, face him and fell him, we did.

As the wight-lord fell, the Arthedain let out a fiercesome rallying cry I hoped one day I could mimic. They flew off into Nindur with a vengeful rage, and each one was a beam of morning light piercing into the darkness. My soul was lightened because souls of great men were freed. The taint was lightening.

We returned to Emelin in Ost Haer, easily stepping over the bodies of the ghost-killed wights. Emelin had heard our song from afar and was pleased. He told us more about the ages of long past. Three nations arose as ancient Arnor fell: Arthedain, Cardolan, and Rhudaur. I knew of Cardolan from the Barrow-downs near Bree, and the epic tale of the Cardolan Prince. Rhudaur I was only slightly familiar with, and knew they were more closely cursed with the Red-maid. It seemed Arthedain was doomed from the beginning, and this doom eventually became Ivar. A foe I would meet.

Ravric: Gwarg

While waiting for a decent group for the rest of Book 2, I decided to work on some Deeds. The particular deed I wanted involved killing the wargs all around the Lonelands. This was a pain because unlike most of the other kill-deed mobs, wargs don't have a specific spawn point and can be found throughout the Lonelands. Since I ran a lot I also indirectly worked on my deed that required me to kill craben.

It really didn't take that long, but I find I have to do deeds in spurts otherwise the grind of them really gets to me. This is the last deed I think I am going to make sure I get before heading away from the Lonelands and focusing on North-Downs and Evendim more. Some are easy, but I really wouldn't use the deeds right now. I was pleased to complete this one in the morning light.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 5

Aric waited until night to point us in the right direction. Throughout the day we had talked small scholar talk, but it was minimal at best. Maiden was bored to tears and arranged and rearranged our packs multiple times.

Finally after the sun had completely left the horizon, Aric told us of one of the dead in the ruins of Ost Haer. It was odd because unlike the Free Peoples in the North Downs who just wanted the ghostly men vanquished, Aric felt that indeed this particular shade of man would be helpful. If the shade, Emelin, could give approval to anyone.

It was easy enough to find Emelin. The creature was guarding a burial tomb - probably its own - in one of the last roofed places in Ost Haer. It regarded us warily, but unlike so many of the dead, Emelin did not attack us outright. Instead it gave us the option of either leaving with our lives or fighting a battle it believed we could not win. If we bested his summoned fellows, he would help us.

I had no dread, and knew that my strength would prevail.

The fight was swift. As soon as I accepted, Emelin called his forsaken footsoldiers and then merely watched. Two of the dead, wear Arthedain-like gear if I knew my scholarly arts, came at us at both sides. Maiden and I worked to take down the more fearsome of the guards first, but it vanished into a realm we could not follow when it was severely damaged. It finally came back to meet its death, but only after we had taken care of the other Arthedain shade.

Emelin seemed humbled by our victory. A virtue appeared that Aric had not spoken of, and I was given hope that we had gained another ally in hopes of cleansing this poisoned land.

Emelin told us the story about he and his Arthedain did nothing in a moment of need, and for that the land became poisoned. Now he and his men were cursed by Iarwain Ben-Adar, a name I knew but the man I knew him to be was Tom Bombadil. The curse was strong, and to break it a feat would have to echo throughout Arda. I would help Emelin, if it gave way to purify the land.

Storytelling: Book 2, Chapter 4

The wizard seemed to have other things on his mind when I spoke to him next. He told me of a scholar, one I had heard of told during my apprenticeship, in the swamp of Harloeg. I would have to travel south to meet Aric Stone-speaker to help us rid the land of the poison. This was not my first foray into Harloeg. A week or so prior I had chased a Tarkrip Seeker down there, but I had to stop at the water's edge. The insects on the direct route to Ost Haer, where the Stone-speaker resided, were bigger than any I had seen. The fleeing orc learned this quickly, and I skampered up the hill side listening to its screams.

However the fates changed my course of direction, and I found myself in a fellowship headed for the eastern reaches of the swamp. A company of trolls had made camp in Harloeg, and the Free Peoples were beginning to grow wary of their slow approach. The group, supposedly from the Trollshaws far to the east, were the Balt-Olog trolls. The leader of the fellowship believed them to be well supplied and heavily armored.

Our fellowship of four attacked like a well-trained pack, and the huge slow trolls quickly fell to our relentless attack. I rallied my group on, raising their morale and spirits, and not one of us faltered. Maiden did fairly well, and even knocked one of the trolls unconscious for a period.

Our brief attack severely damaged the grip of the trolls on eastern Harloeg, but our power was not such that we could have erased their foul presence altogether. I am content knowing that they are too weak to make a direct attack on the Free Peoples.

I bid the fellowship farewell at the edge of the treeline. Ost Haer filled the horizon, and I saw a small campfire glowing within. Aric spoke with me directly, a scholar to scholar. His tone was a tad condescending, but then that goes with the territory. He spoke of the dead holding the secrets we need, and the tiny campfire grew smaller. The ruined walls seemed to allow more of the swamp in than before, and that night I could not sleep.

Ravric: Garth a'goin

Members of the Council of the Secret Fire, led by the oath-sworn originators of the Council - Slashy and Moondog, joined as a fellowship in Ost Guruth with intentions of going into the Garth Agarwen instance to help with some of the quests. The fellowship was fairly well balanced, and there was really no trouble (read: we steamrolled the sucka) with two overleveled members. Especially with a minstrel of such a level. I was lucky to have come along, being a tad underleveled, but since a captain's job is to mostly make the other members better, I didn't have to worry much about my DPS or what not.

Garth Agarwen, like many MMO dungeons, is a melting pot of enemy factions. In our short romp, we mostly hit the Creoth tribes, and only at the end of our journey did we start hitting the Dead.

Like I mentioned earlier, we had relatively no trouble with any of the bosses. Fellowship manuevers were flying left and right with Slashy's burglar skills, and Moondog's healing (minimally supplemented by yours truly) dealt with the high-speed, over-agroing of the two hunters and the champion. It was fairly obvious we were a "green" group of dungeon dwellers, but once Slashy started to control our pace, I felt we started doing pretty well. The Grimbark encounter was over so quickly, I had no idea what was going on.

Unfortunately by the time we got to the twins, Edan and Esyld - two wights that drop a pretty good chest. It was getting late, and after the short battle, Moondog and I had to sign off for some much needed rest. I was lucky enough to gain the zweihander Aegrist from the Brother's Chest - a two-handed sword with pretty good damage. I checked out the forums, and people said it used to be awesome as a level 30 or 31 req, but now it is a level 34 req, which people say makes it much weaker. Time will tell, when I get to that level.

Storytelling - Book 2, Chapter 3

I returned to the wizard a few days later. My bath-given cleanliness had since worn off with the stench of wargs and goblins. Radagast stood up from his study, and told me that far too many wights were abound in Haragmar to be just the play of evil spirits from Angmar. The necromantic gaunt-men were behind this. I had heard rumors of their sightings east of Ost Guruth, but from afar they seemed has hollow as the wights they created, easily mistaken. From an Istari, the presence of the gaunt-men coven was truth. Radagast needed their sigils so that we would know what vile sect of the necromancers we were up against.

Moondog, a hobbit minstrel, and Targimoth, an elven hunter, answered my call. The Council of the Secret Fire, I knew, was closely allied to the Istari, and the kinship was given many delicate tasks from the leaders of the Free Peoples. Maiden had no choice in the matter but to come along.

Our journey through the swamp of Haragmar towards the evil ruins of Nan Dhelu was swift. The denizens of the swamp, natural and unnatural, gave our fellowship wide berth. Any that crossed our path would be swiftly deal with.

Outside Nan Dhelu, I saw a gaunt-man watching our approach. It was likely a rare occurence that any adventurer came close to their wretched haven, but once I pointed the foul creature to my companions, Moondog and Targimoth's reactions were severe. The gaunt-man was felled before I could command Maiden to herald us forth, however, I heard the crawk of a nearby craben and knew the coven of gaunt-men would be expecting our venture.

We smashed into Nan Dhelu with brutal precision. Targimoth's arrows whistled through the hair around my and Maiden's head and hit their intended marks, always. Moondog called forth the power of light and hope, beams of which burned the fell creatures very soul. I later heard that the guards of Ost Guruth had seen the brilliant light from their posts, and it had given the Free Peoples such hope.

After our entrance, the cowardly gaunt-men began to hide. We slaughtered countless of their animated minions, but none could be seen out in the open. Moondog merely shrugged, for he knew their time was coming. I took a few minutes of respite, while Targimoth tracked for footprints of the gaunt-men to pursue some scholarly work. I cannot wait to share my findings with the other Scholars back in Bree, I hope my notes and artifacts further help our case against The Enemy.

At the topmost point of Nan Dhelu was a temple where the gaunt-men were hiding. With our approach, it seemed they had packed many of the valuables and holed up with a few chests where they hoped we would not find them. I am grateful for Moondog's songs of courage, for little if any dread filled my heart, and any doubt I had for our victory was quickly silenced with the screaming arrows of Targimoth. The gaunt-men came at us in wave with their wights. And they died. And they died.

The horn of the Council was heard over the miles at Ost Guruth. We had collected enough of the gaunt-men's sigils to help Radagast decipher their gaunt-lord, and Moondog said it was time we ventured further into the red swamp to push back the treacherous human tribes found in Garth Agarwen. I told my two companions that I would heed the call, and we traveled back to Ost Guruth.

They waited outside while I briefly met with Radagast. He immediately identified the sigils as being beholden to Iver the Bloodhand. The wizard, as always, had more questions, and I told him I would return to him further after our critical strike into Garth Agarwen.