One Door Closes and Another Opens
Theoren
Yup. If you recall the main fight was pretty much over, but the last of the cultists had turned invisible and a couple of us were chasing him through the rooms off the main chamber. Thon ap Thun ran (pretty much literally) into an incorporeal creature (all fire, smoke and glowing coal-like eyes) that was waiting for any pursuers in a small chamber hewn from the living rock (that featured another lidless eye mosaic). He battled it in a mighty rearguard action, suffering many wounds from the creature's savage claws and emerged (smoking and with his mail glowing in places) into the antechamber where the rest of the group were waiting in ambush. The creature (or demon or whatever) was set upon from all sides and after a wild fight finally struck down by Osiris who calling upon the names of his ancestors hewed it from pate to pelvis in a single ferocious blow (critical hit with a zweihander using a maximum power attack - forty-something hit points damage).
Meanwhile Thon, having gone done the 'down, cover and roll' with some of the ornate hangings (just before the demon/balrogette/whatever appeared and set everything on fire) had gone in search of a font or similar to quench the cherry-glowing gauntlet on his right fist (he'd been reduced to pugilism at the last once his various other weapons got too hot to handle). As he emerged into the main temple chamber he observed a blood trail leading from a previously unsuspected secret door behind the alter to the fallen body of the chief hierophant, whose dead arm suddenly lifted from the ground - with a nasty 'crack' his hand detached from its arm, floated in midair for an instant and then disappeared from view. Losing not a moment, Thon launched his dwarven throwing hammer at the vacant space above the body. There was wet, meaty 'thud' and the corpse of the last cultist was revealed in mid-step as he fell, lifeless, to the floor.
The rest was detail work really. We did a major first-aid session with the healing blade, inventoried the corpses of the cultists and the various chambers and scriptoria. Theoren was delighted to find 'Nargrath', his oathblade and returned the longsword he had borrowed, plus there was the Heirophant's ring (a mannish design, functional rather than decorative - after the experience with the Morgul blade nobody was keen to put it on), his hand (a prosthetic, made of iron - one virtue was that it unlocked a couple of the doors that had previously resisted all our attempts), sundry valuables and the various scrolls and books from the scriptorium.
Plus, of course, the crystal orb.
The orb was rather larger than two fists clubbed together and had a lidless eye set into the clear glass or crystal (like the coloured part of a marble). It was originally set as a centrepiece to the alter, but the dwarves set to removing it with a will. There then followed an extensive debate concerning the thing (and by extension all the other treasure - especially the books, which were written in an uncanny script that none could fathom). Eventually our fearless leader ordered the orb smashed there and then to forestall further argument (or temptation) and Braggi wound up a mighty blow with his war-maul - only for the orb to resist the smashing force of the iron-shod club completely (there was a small coin-sized area of smashed tilework on the floor
under the orb, but not a scratch on the device itself). This pretty much decided the matter - we'd load everything onto mules, push on to the town of [whatever it was called - Darnish or something] and then organise an expedition to Rivendell to put the matter to Elrond's Council.
So it was and so it went, save that a day or two after we set off Theoren approached Ceri and shared a tale of woe. It seems that shortly before he had been taken by the orc raiders and hauled off to the cultists he had been acting as a guide for a couple of young kinsmen who had taken it into their heads to explore 'Maes Fao' a site of some dark renown amongst the clansmen of the hills hereabouts but also reputedly a hiding place of an ancient treasure and therefore a challenge that young bravos periodically essayed to prove their courage and (who knows?) return with great booty and renown. Things had gone well at first, but then the party had been set upon by Trolls in the gloaming and had become split up in the confusion. Theoren feared the worst and asking a boon of the group, that they accompany him to the dread gorge to seek news of his kinfolk and, if necessary, take vengeance upon their red-handed murderers. Everyone was sore affected by this sorry saga and made heartfelt oaths that they would aid their newfound companion in this task, for all knew that ties of blood and honour could not permit that they do anything else and still bear themselves as true men (or elves or dwarves) of the Arthedain. Thus and so, our heroes instructed the dwarven navvies to continue on with their booty and wait upon the group's return for a se'night. Meanwhile they struck off the trail into the haunted hills of the northern Trollshaws.
Two days travel brought them up hard by the dread valley in late afternoon. Rather than push forward into an enemy lair with night drawing on, the group decided to cover their trail and await the dawn. A quiet night passed in a secure lair, although upon rising Theoren discovered a single sandalled footprint a short distance away but no other sign or trail. The group pressed on but Osiris trailed the main body of the party in an effort to surprise our mysterious hunter - taking advantage of his woodland skills to press on through the country at speed in order to keep up with the rest of the group after each lay up. Unfortunately whilst our hunter-turned-prey didn't make an appearance a raiding party of Olog-Hai certainly did - Osiris was forced to break cover and run for his life, closely pursued by the trolls and well feathered by their fearsome Trollbows. Leaving a heinously clear trail he burst in upon the group, with his pursuers in close attendance.
We barely had time to scatter of the trail into hasty ambush positions before two trolls came up the path, casting about to follow the trail in a pantomimic and amateurish manner. Sure enough our suspicious were confirmed; Ceri, closeted in a good hide in the low bole of an oak observed two more of the fell creatures approaching on one flank, stalking well and silently. It is to be supposed that another pair are approaching from the other flank equally silently.....
And there we left it.
