Let's Play the Lord of the Rings Online - 'Go Where You Must Go, and Hope!'

Introduction Instance - Elf
Location
Netherlands

The Lord of the Rings Online - subtitled 'Shadows of Angmar' back when it first came out - is a venerable MMORPG. That is to say, it's very old, as it was first released way back in 2007… Unlike a lot of games from that era, it's also still active and receiving updates and expansions to this day. Naturally it's set in J. R. R. Tolkien's Middle-Earth during the same time period as the events of the Lord of the Rings novel-in-three-parts. Originally the game was developed by Turbine, and came with four playable races and seven classes, plus a map which covered the western regions of Eriador, ending near the Misty Mountains. Expansion would extend this first to the mines of Moria, while also adding two more classes, before moving to Mirkwood, Isengard, Rohan, and Gondor.

The game eventually went free-to-play with subscription options, and was transferred to Daybreak Game Company, mostly composed of former Turbine staff. With the addition of more races and a class or two, the game was then further expanded with a Mordor storyline to finish the original story of the book. Later content focused on other parts of Middle-Earth like Minas Morgul, outlying regions of the Shire and Rhovanion, as well as Gundabad. An upcoming expansion moves backwards to depict various events from the world's past.

I've played this game before, but it was long ago, from release to Rohan, though I also saw some of the early parts of Gondor in a brief return. I've got a certain nostalgic feeling about it - I liked a lot of what I can recall, though I also have a weird conviction that it didn't get really good until the expansion content came out. Since I have the same opinion about Final Fantasy XIV, this wouldn't be a big shocker! My strongest memories of the game center around the Mines of Moria and western Rohan, and I vaguely recall doing some 'big battle' content which frustrated me to no end, presumably towards the end of my playtime since that's Gondor-era stuff. It's all a bit of a blur. And that's the problem, isn't it?

It's high time to take another look at this game, because it's getting on there in years and with the current content mostly filling in blanks rather than completing the main story, there's no real reason to hold off any longer. LOTRO isn't just pure rehashing of canonical Lord of the Rings, either - it's got its own spin on Tolkien's legendarium, and it's one worth looking into as its own thing (even if I'll probably frequently reference the canonical lore.) It's best to consider this 'inspired by' Tolkien, and all the accurate tidbits are just gravy.



Character Creation

Our intro cinematic indicates that while this entire game is definitely set in Middle-Earth, and all this end-of-the-age Ring-business is happening, our character's focus is diverted elsewhere. Literally, as the shadows of Sauron stretch over a mostly unexplored northern area to indicate our foe… Bonus points for the map depicting the past of Eriador.



While a multi-ethnic band of legally distinct not-at-all-inspired-by-the-movies characters fight some orcs in a forest, Gandalf calls out the Witch-King of Angmar and his evil kingdom, and given that the original title of the game was Shadows of Angmar, this seems rather important. Forget the rest of this stuff, there's a spooky ghost guy with a crown to fight! At least until we get around to post-release material which goes in every other direction, which is why the subtitle was dropped and now really only applies to the first chunk of the game. Details.



Angmar, or 'Iron Home' in the elvish language of Sindarin, is canonically a cold and snowy realm established in the year 1300 of the Third Age by the aforementioned Nazgûl, the Witch-King, in the far north of Middle-Earth. We'll get into the specifics of its history later, but for now it's relevant to know that it was struck down in the year 1975 of the Third Age in the Battle of Fornost, after which the Witch-King fled over to Mordor with the rest of his ghostly homies. Angmar did not pose any threat during the War of the Ring, since it had been a dead nation for a thousand years. LOTRO takes a different spin on this, reimagining the ultimate fate of this hostile region in order to set it up as a western arm of Sauron's looming shadow. It's far from the only time that LOTRO retcons material like this based on actual stuff from Tolkien's work. It's probably preferable to just making it up without any references at all, and it beats fighting only a few goblins and wolves.

After the cinematic, we're left at character creation - and it's gotten a bit more complicated than it used to be in the old days. There used to be only four races - Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits. There are ways to play enemy races too, but only in special zones, as this is mostly a 'good guys vs. the evil mobs' campaign. Later updates introduced Beornings - shapeshifting humans descended from the Hobbit's Beorn - as well as new variants of elves and dwarves in the form of High Elves and Stout-Axes. The differences of the latter two are largely cosmetic, barring one or two class-choices which are available only to the variants, and a couple early-bird quests which set up the unique starting positions of these new races. I think there's a handful of unique traits too? Those don't come up for a good while, anyway.

Classes, too, have gotten more elaborate since the early days - instead of seven classes, there are now a whole eleven to choose from, though a couple of those are premium one based on some expansion you may or may not have purchased when they came out, or through the in-game store.



Taking these icons in order, we've got the Guardian, a tank clad in heavy armor with a big shield who is all about drawing aggro and taking hits. Next there's the Captain, a melee fighter with buff abilities who summons a herald companion to fight by their side whom they can then buff. The Burglar is a knife-happy support class modeled after Bilbo Baggins, specializing in debuffing and stealth attacks. They rely on sleight-of-hand and initiating team combos.

Next is the Warden, a javelin-wielding melee combatant who can also do ranged damage and has a fighting game's combo-style flow to their battles. The Champion is a melee fighter specializing in pure damage-dealing, especially against groups. The Hunter is a bow-wielding ranged attacker with back-up dual-wielding melee attacks. The Beorning is the sole class available to the Beorning race - they can do heavy damage after transforming and take a lot of hits, but also have skills in healing while in human form. They're werebears.

The Rune-Keeper is a more varied class who can fill a bunch of roles with various magical runes - damage, healing, support. The Lore-Master is a master of crowd-control who calls animal companions to fight by their side, and even calls on some elemental forces to damage foes. Minstrels are bard-style healers who can also deal some damage, but mostly focus on keeping everyone in the fight. Finally, the newest class is the Brawler, not yet included in this image, and they're an aggressive melee fighter who shines in one-on-one unarmed combat.

So, who am I? I used to play mostly Champion and Guardian, heavily armored melee machines - so I'm consciously going another direction. Some of the newly introduced classes seem interesting, but I haven't shilled out cash for the Brawler and I'd prefer a class which will allow for a fair amount of solo play. Also, since I'm definitely going to be an insufferable know-it-all who harasses people, I'm inclined towards playing an Elf, and that makes the choice easier. Let's go with a classic, and pick up an elven bowman in the spirit of Legolas. Hunters get a bunch of quality of life skills too like a variety of convenient travel options and buffs to their running speed. Can't complain there!



Say hello to Brulindir - pay no attention to the shorter name in the top there! Stupid MMOs and their stupid quota on how many people can have the same name, grumble grumble… Brulindir is a wood-elf who hails from Lothlórien, the golden woods where Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel hold sway. The various origin options there mostly determine which sets of colors are available on the sliders to the right - I've no idea if they impact any gameplay beyond that. Maybe I'll find out when I get to Lórien…



Let's just jump right in, shall we?



Introduction Instance - The Refuge of Edhelion

"While visiting the Refuge of Edhelion under the care of your master, you find yourself in the midst of a brutal attack by greedy dwarves of the Dourhand family. Their king, Skorgrím, thirsts for power with an unnatural lust, and you are in the eye of the storm."

No sooner do I open my eyes to a fancily-decorated room full of wall-hangings, expensive pots, chests, and poorly maintained bookcases, that a rude elf yells at me to get a move on already. Tarry not, and all that? Whatever, I'm going to have a look around. While the elf-dude in the corner beckons me over, I inspect the environs, noting a fancy harp, purple rugs with wavy lines across them, and a smattering of very meaningful wall-hangings.



The seven stars are a pretty ubiquitous symbol in Middle-Earth - it's a specific constellation in the north skies that the elves call Valacirca and which symbolizes the downfall of the original big bad Morgoth. To us it's just known as the Big Dipper. According to dwarvish legend a crown of seven stars appeared above Durin's head when he looked into Mirrormere, symbolizing his kingship. To top it off, Aragorn's ancestor Elendril also used the symbol, denoting the seven Palantíri taken across the ocean to Middle-Earth after the downfall of Númenor.

As for the other pictures, the ship and dragon could represent various entities and events to the elves - Smaug and Eärendil come to mind. The last picture shows a white tree along with nine stars - likely this references the seedling of Númenor's white tree that Isildur stole, and which later symbolizes Gondor, along with the nine ships which escaped the ruin of that island as it sank beneath the seas. Of note is that the four hangings seem to also conform to the classical four elements, with the stars as air, the ship as water, the tree as earth, and the dragon as fire.

Okay, let's get back to shouty elf-guy… oh, hi there Elrond Half-Elven. Fancy meeting you here.



Awkward.

If you're worried that Elrond here is a particularly angry angel now, that ring icon is basically the exclamation mark from games like World of Warcraft, an indicator of quest NPCs. The normal golden ring is for regular quests, a blue one with a feather indicates an active quest and the quest provider usually gives you hints as to what you're supposed to be doing, and the flaming ring here is Very Important. The central narrative of the game is the so-called 'Epic Quest' which connects everything together, and is depicted with this symbol, while smaller stories play out in separate quest chains with normal icons. Odds are if you're not sure where you should be going, the epic quests will lead you there pretty quickly. Some progress is also gated behind these quests, so it's a good idea to make sure you don't leave it to the wayside.

Elrond tells me that I can't tarry any longer in here - for Skorgrím's forces are upon us, and they're probably making their way straight to this library! Sorry, man, but have you looked around lately? This whole building has like five bookcases, and all of them are barely even a quarter full. This is supposed to be a library? Ol' L-Ron must still be with his head in Rivendell's study corner, eh? Elrond explains that this evil dwarf-lord seeks the relics of Edhelion, the commune we're currently in, though he's got no idea what the dwarf wants with them. He then immediately explains that these relics were once coveted by an ancient Gaunt-Lord, whatever that is, and conjectures that Skorgrím thinks he can become immortal if he can get his hands on them. Way to answer your own question there, Bat-elf!

He promptly dumps a satchel of weapons on the ground for me, though they're inexplicably inferior to the gear I receive as a newly generated character, so whatever. I've barely even strapped on my trusty bow and knife when Elrond shuffles me over to the next room, where Talagan awaits - apparently he's my master/mentor figure. May you rest in peace, dude, I've heard this refrain before. Talagan greets me by challenging me to a fight - apparently he's worried I won't survive the battle outside, so he hopes to ease his heart by ensuring I'm ready. Sure, old elf, I'll beat you up to make you feel better.



As I finish teaching my teacher a lesson, thunder suddenly shakes the library, and Elrond figures that he has to hide the relics before Skorgrím appears to claim them. He tells me to go outside with Talagan to see what we can do about the Dourhands - Skorgrím's dwarven clan. He'll catch back up with us as soon as possible. Before I leave, though, I spy more wall-hangings in this room - one depicting the moon, while another is a map of Eriador. More specifically, this is a map from the early days of LOTRO, when the game first came out, though it's long since been updated half a dozen times. Neat!



Talagan and I make our way outside to find the refuge on fire - even some of the stone bits, somehow. Various elves are lamenting their fate nearby, or nursing their wounds, while the corpses of Dourhand dwarves litter the stairs. They're getting pretty close! Talagan tells me that the library is where the storm will converge, so I should get away and meet with Edhelben down below, who should allow me through the gates to protect what's left of the refuge. He urges me to return in one piece when this is all over. You know, I'll promise that if you do the same, kay? Nothing? Thought so.



I descend the staircase and pass through the gate with Edhelben, only to discover a mostly deserted courtyard - with the gate that leads eastwards out of the refuge under siege. Not only is there a host of Dourhands there, smashing into a pretty flimsy-looking gate which appears to be more about form than function, but there's also something much, much bigger. Is that a freaking troll? Yikes.



Edhelben tells me not to tarry - come on you elves, aren't you supposed to be the chill race that lives forever? What's with all this haste? He concludes that the gate won't last long - no shit - and that we have to bolster the defenses behind a nearby gate. In order to do that he leads me to a staircase at the west end and tells me to go up until I reach the other side of that gate. Uh, okay? I guess I'm shooting some Dourhands along the way, though, so it's not entirely giving me the runaround. Edhelben figures I should just hold out hope that someone will open that gate afterwards so I can make my way back to the main courtyard…

The Dourhands don't pose much of a threat, given that they're tutorial enemies - I let loose a couple shots and most of them drop before they even reach me, and those that do smack me ineffectually. Eventually I make my way around the perimeter - while I appreciate the fancy architecture along the way. Get away form there, you damn dirty dwarf!



I reach the other side of the long runaround and get let into a locked section by Dorongúr Whitethorn, who recognizes me as Talagan's young charge. I guess this establishes that I am quite young - for an elf. That could still mean a couple centuries, probably. He's glad that I survived this massacre, but admits that it's not over yet. Skorgrím himself hasn't shown his face yet, but they've already lost much in the battle with the Dourhands… He asks me what news I bring, before commenting that he fears for Edhelion - how much more could they withstand?

That's about when a guard rushes up and shouts that the Dourhands have broken through. Dorongúr steels himself and tells me that the final battle is at hand - I should prepare myself, for the gate will not hold long! I'm dazed by the sudden impact of the giant troll against the gate, moments away from death, when there's a sudden Elrond Interrupt.

'A Elbereth! Edhellen crist! Fall, beast!'




Elrond solos the snow-troll and then calls out to Dorongúr - Talagan now defends the library alone, since he sent Elrond over to save his student. Dorongúr calls for me to follow as we all dash back through the courtyard and back up the stairs I originally descended from. Skorgrím and a party of his dwarves have gotten there ahead of us, though. As we arrive halfway up it turns out part of the bridge has collapsed, and we can see Talagan facing off with Skórgrim and friends at the entrance to the library.



Skorgrím snarls that Talagan should stand aside, that the relics are his, only for Talagan to cry out 'Never!' before channeling some unknown power. Elrond seems to understand what's going on, but Skorgrím doesn't and tells his minions to stop him - Dorongúr cries out in panic. Then, in a truly 2007 bit of animation, the entire library collapses on top of the entire group, crushing both Talagan and the dwarves. I did not see this coming at all!

Elrond, moments after the dust settles, hopes that Talagan is at peace. Agh, if only he'd returned but a few moments earlier! Still, Talagan's dearest wish was to see his student safe, and he also saved the relics - they're buried with him in the collapsed library. Wait, Elrond hid the library's secret relics inside the library? What, did he shove them under the carpet? Real impressive, my man.



Elrond reflects on what has happened here and tells me that I can blame him for my beloved master's death, for he could have saved him if only he'd forgone going to help me instead. Talagan was brave to spare my young life, he proclaims. Edhelion lies in ruins, and Talagan was not the only elf to die here today. While Skorgrím will be no more trouble, and the relics are safely gone, it was still such a needless battle! Edhelion, he surmises, will fade away after this…

This is where we leave the introductory instance, and move to the next segment… which takes place a whopping six-hundred years later. Talk about time-skips!
 
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I've always meant to get around to playing this but never did, so I'm quite excited to see a Let's Play. I hope you can keep working on this.
 
Introduction - Dwarf/Elf (Part 1)

Introduction - Dwarf/Elf (Part 1)

"The old refuge of Edhelion lies abandoned, the ruined testament to the greed of Skorgrím Dourhand. Six-hundred years after his fall, dwarves inhabit the ancient halls in the mountains, and Elrond of Rivendell, sensing a threat, has sent his sons Elrohir and Elladan along with a company of elves to investigate."

Picking up six centuries after the events of the opening instance, we're now moving into the introduction of this game, which will later lead into the prologue - yes, it's going to be one of those stories. I find myself at Edhelion Watch, a temporary base of operations along the path from Thorin's Gate to the Refuge of Edhelion, which was set up by a band of elven explorers, merchants, and trainers led by Elladan, one of the twin sons of Elrond. It's a pretty busy place right now, since every class has to have a trainer here somewhere, and there's a bunch of vendors for early-game nonsense too, though it's unlikely I'll need any of their wares for a good while yet.



I'm greeted by a dwarf named Nos Grimsong, who offers me and my company his service. Uh, okay? He explains that he's actually here on an errand from Dwalin, the leader of his traveling party, as it seems a company of Longbeard dwarves have arrived here at the same time as the elves by sheer chance. Dwalin wants to understand the circumstances of this coincidental meeting, and whether or not the dwarves can be of any assistance to the elves. Beyond that, they've come to investigate the long silence since Gormr Doursmith became the steward of Thorin's Hall in Thorin's absence. Also, what's Elrond's son doing here?



Nos asks me to talk to Elladan on Dwalin's behalf, pointing him out for me - but he's literally within hearing distance, so I probably would have managed. After touring the entire campsite and speaking to everyone, I finally go over to the guy and ask what's up. Elldan explains that his own party, which includes me, came here to pursue a strange premonition experienced by Elrond of Rivendell.

Dwalin's party came to investigate something else - namely Gormr Doursmith's failings as a Steward of Thorin's Hall - but Elladan wonders if these two quests might be related. He asks me for my opinions, and after a moment he takes my game-enforced silence as an answer and decides we might as well start the investigation now that everyone is here. Dwalin, despite being a dwarf, is a friend to Rivendell and thus we'll lend him whatever aid he needs.



Elladan then expounds on his dad's weird dream - he reassures us that Elrond's foretelling doesn't often stray far from the mark, so his pronouncements are worth paying attention to. In this case, the words imparted to Elladan were:

"Blood-red footsteps upon
snow colored black
where the Dour King walks
to take back his throne
and finish what was begun."

The son of Elrond ruefully admits he's no riddle-master, but some of the elves of his company have skill in solving such things. He asks me to speak to Merethen and Dorollas, riddle-masters - the latter is actually the one who identified this location as one of relevance. Hopefully they'll have some leads. Both of them are nearby, thankfully. Merethen kneels at the side of the camp, and tells me to look yonder - Thorin's Hall belches smoke and soot, and thus the white snow of the mountain turns black before it even touches the valley floor. It's rather literal for a riddle, but it works!



Dorollas adds that he believes the Dour King must be a reference to Skorgrím Dourhand himself. There's only one problem with his logic - Skorgrím has been dead for centuries! Apparently unaware of my identity, he explains that he died when he tried to raid Edhelion for elven relics to ensure his immortality - I guess this is to fill the dwarven players in on what happened in the elven instance. Dorollas hopes he hasn't led the party astray, but his heart tells him he's close…

In case you're wondering, this is approximately where we are - way off to the east. The huge castle in the mountains, then, is Thorin's Hall, a central hub location for dwarven players. We'll visit it sometime later, I'm sure.



I run back to inform Elladan what I learned, and he's annoyed that Dorollas led them all here because of his wild idea that Skorgrím is involved. After all, his father Elrond saw that dwarf die with his own eyes! Elladan complains that never would have come here if he'd known of Dorollas' folly. Still, Merethen's observation that the Dourhands' slovenly stewardship of the halls is turning the snow soot-black is valid, so he will permit the investigation to continue. He's very skeptical and disappointed in Dorollas' judgment, though.

Whether he was right or wrong to send the party here, however, Elladan does sense danger nearby - as is often the case in the wide world of late. Before getting started, he tells me that I should get prepared for anything. I'm a hunter, sure, but have I mastered my skills? He's dubious about my abilities and tells me to speak to my trainer to make sure I'm ready for the path ahead. Rude.

After learning how to do a Penetrating Shot, ahem, from my teacher, I make my way back to Elladan to learn that he's thought things over, and decided to give Dorollas' theory a fair chance, since we're here anyway. He decides I should go investigate the ruins of Edhelion, the place where Skorgrím fell, to ensure that he's still very much dead. Elladan suddenly realizes I was actually present for those events, then tells me that the mystery will just get bigger if it turns out Skorgrím's grave lies undisturbed. I guess I'd be able to tell more than most people? Though after six-hundred years, even elves might get a big foggy on the details. (Luckily, I have pictures!)



Making my way down the short descent into Edhelion proper, I come across another survivor, Dorniel. She pauses at the entrance gates to the refuge, reflecting that she's lucky to be alive after the injuries she bore that day the Dourhands invaded. She's too overcome with emotion to go back inside, declaring that it's only a shadow of its former glory now, and only pain remains.

Further into the ruins I find another survivor, Naithriel, who explains that she was a healer, but her strength in mending wounds wasn't enough to mend her own hurts caused by Skorgrím and his ilk. She can't return here without great sadness in her heart. It was such a needless war, too. Skorgrím sought immortality, but in the end the only thing he found here was death. Well, that was a pleasant conversation...



Traversing old familiar roads, now overgrown with moss, the stones cracked and the paint weathering away, I finally make my way to the broken bridge to the collapsed library - only to see a familiar face there. Dorongúr Whitethorn is present, and mentions that the memories he carries of this place and those lost here are a difficult burden for him to bear. He recaps how Talagan brought the library's walls down on Skorgrím and himself, putting an end to the former's lust for immortality - the walls smote them both as they crumbled. He also notices a strange bushel of red flowers growing in front of the ruined library, of a type he's never seen before…



Dorongúr then gives elven players a recap of the dwarven introduction instance, explaining that Skorgrím's body was discovered several decades ago by Thorin's folk, Longbeard dwarves, back when Thorin still inhabited this land before his death. Dwarf-miners dug into the mountain and exposed the ruined cellars of Edhelion, and that is where they discovered the perfectly preserved corpse of Skorgrím - way down in the Silver Deep Mine. When Talagan brought down the edifice, he and the evil dwarf both fell into their grave below… Dorongúr suggests that I head into the mine to search for Skorgrím's body where it was last seen, if I really want to find it. For his part, he has no wish to look at that dwarf's face again.

The Silver Deep Mine is not far away, located just west of Edhelion at the bottom of a series of dwarf-hewn staircases and plateaus which descend down the mountainside.



The route there is pretty abandoned at the moment, at least until I get inside and run into the first of LOTRO's various weird creature designs. What I encounter here is a so-called cave-claw, and it's somewhat ghoulish to look at and tough to describe. These things have a beaked ant-eater-like head and lizard-like clawed feet, but their most prominent feature is a hideous pustule-ridden back, pink and fleshy-looking, with various hairs or spikes poking out of what appear to be boils. Gah. These creatures are a type of pest here, but there's plenty of variants out in the world. Also, they make some pretty gnarly wheezing noises when they attack, so that's a thing!



After taking down a handful of the cave-claws and crossing a walled bridge that's left wide open for us, I finally arrive at the location where Skorgrím's body was found years ago in the dwarven intro.



Skorgrím's corpse is gone, of course, but what's more telling is the presence of familiar red flowers growing all around its former location. When I go to pick one of them, I realize they've got a poisonous, deathly look to them. These are decidedly unpleasant.



I take one with me so Elladan can inspect it, and I'm about to retrace my steps when I curiously look a little deeper into the cave. What I find there is a shaft of light descending from on high and revealing an open chamber occupied by a petrified troll, caught in the rays of its doom. (I really should play the dwarven intro again, huh? Then all this would make more sense.)



I hightail it back to Elladan at base camp, but he can't identify the vile little flower I discovered. He's quite surprised that they grew where Skorgrím died and where his dead body lay for all these years, as such magic is not common among dwarves. He finally concludes that since the dwarf's body was moved, and these flowers apparently followed him in death, perhaps they'll also lead to his new grave. The penny drops, and Elladan suddenly remembers a line from Elrond's predictions - blood-red footsteps upon snow colored black. It's actually talking about a trail of red flowers! Something evil is at work here, same as when Skorgrím first sought immortality, he muses darkly. He instructs me to go find more red flowers to see where they might lead, and to watch for his brother Elrohir as I go, since he's also out scouting.

Returning to the courtyard in front of the Silver Deep Mine, a pretty obvious trail of red flowers are dotted along the road westwards, eventually turning left towards a large dwarven keep. Along the way I come across a second creature type - these barrow-hounds or barghests are little Houndours, basically - evil demon-dogs. They're actually based off North-English folklore about a mythical black dog with huge teeth and claws.



A dwarf is hiding out nearby, so I go to say hello. He's Tryggwi, and he recognizes me as one of the company of elves that arrived the previous night at the same time he did. He's here to find out what has become of Steward Gormr, and when he hears I'm looking for Skorgrím, he notes that the Dourhands might be his descendants, but the actual king is long dead. He explains that he asked the Dourhands to speak with the Stewards, and he was directed here. This keep was once a great storage-house of Thorin's, but Tryggwi doesn't think he'll like what the Dourhands have done with the place.



Tryggwi says he overheard some of the guards talking, and supposedly Gormr is at the keep as the leader of the Dourhand rabble surrounding the place. He harbors no love for Dwalin's folk, nor for anyone else who once lived in Thorin's Hall before his people took over. He figures I might as well speak with the guy and find out what he has done here, and why he's grown so silent over the years. Maybe he'd even know where the dead king's body was spirited off to? Eh, Tryggwi isn't sure why anyone would want to spend his time in such a dreadful, foreboding place…



I agree to doing my job and head deeper in, finding Gormr and several cronies guarding the door to the Berghold. Gormr sees me approach and deduces I'm from the party that's settled on the outskirts of that gloomy Elf-town in the north. He then explains that behind him is not a storage center but a tomb. Skorgrím's tomb! Since that particular dwarf was an enemy to the elves, why should Gormr even respond to me? He tells me I've come for nothing, since nobody is allowed admittance to the tomb - it's sacred ground. Only descendants, Dourhands, have leave to enter. Still, he tells me I'm more than welcome to pay my respects to the fallen king at his shrine, located just east of him in the Rockbelly Pit. Skorgrím was a great king, after all. Right, elf?



A nearby guard, Bjarni, suggests that Lord Gormr recognized me as one of the elves present for Skorgrím's death, and that he refuses to tolerate elves in Dourhand land unless they help pay restitution for what they've done. They're soon having a commemoration of Skorgrím's many achievements as king, but they need ritual stones for it, black as pitch. The guard wasn't able to find enough for everyone that plans to attend, so he pointedly asks me to make myself useful by getting the rest of the tributes as recompense for my kind's actions.

Taking the hint, I swiftly head over to the Rockbelly Pit, which is entirely infested by bats. The black stones are actually rather easy to find, so the guard must not have tried very hard - some of them are visible when first entering the door! I also slay a couple of the pesky flying rodents along the way, of course. After finding a menacing statue of Skorgrím inside the cave, presumably the shrine, I do an about-face and head back the way I came. That was quick!



Bjarni quickly takes the rocks off my hands and tells me I'm not too bad - for an elf. My loyalty shan't be forgotten, and I might yet earn my forgiveness for what my people did to their king. Ah, that's actually nice! I check in with Gormr, who noticed that I visited their shrine. He muses that it must be obvious the Dourhands greatly revere their fallen king. The Longbeards and elves don't understand such loyalty, he reckons, so this must've been a good lesson for me. He tells me not to go away just yet, though, as he's sure he can think of more tasks to occupy me while I trespass.

Gormr then suddenly changes tack asks me if I'd like to be present to witness the ritual of commemoration. As Steward he welcomes me to celebrate with them, as it won't be long now before the ceremony - in fact, the preparations begin tonight! He asks me to think about the offer, and to return when I've decided. I'll just have to make sure I make the right decision! Ha ho ho. I am told to run along now - he has no more time for me, as it'll be a busy day for all his folk!

Instead of going along with the offer, I leave the keep filled with unease and tension, deciding to head out to find the leader of the local dwarven expedition at nearby Frerin's Court, and get his take on this whole mess...
 
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Introduction - Dwarf/Elf (Part 2)

Introduction - Dwarf/Elf (Part 2)

I arrive at Frerin's Court, the area directly in front of Thorin's Halls. The place is full of Dourhands since they're currently in charge, but a handful of Longbeards are holed up in the center of the courtyard next to a statue, the same dwarven expeditionary force that Nos Grimsong came from.



I'm greeted there by Dwalin and Dori, two members of Thorin's company during the business with the dragon Smaug. Dwalin welcomes me and tells me Nos Grimsong made his way back here since we met at the elven campsite and told him about me. Hearing what I discovered at the Berghold, Dwalin angrily proclaims Gormr a traitor, for Skorgrím is not the king of Thorin's Hall! This place belongs to Thorin's line! Unfortunately, Dwalin already has way too much on his plate without the Dourhands and their strange rituals on top. All of Dwalin's folk have been coming down with an illness since they arrived, which is a more pressing concern than Gormr's folly!

Dwalin tells me to have a look around the statue - all these dwarves are sick, perhaps even dying! He can't do anything else until he figures out what to do to help them. He doesn't even know what caused the malady, so how can he hope to cure them? Those foul Dourhands have let this place crumble in Thorin's absence, and he'd have been furious if he could see it now, full of poison and death! He asks me to head west, tracing the way the Longbeards came into town to see what might have caused this plague. Unnarr, another nearby dwarf, tells me that he's seen barrow-hounds nearby, barghests. The other dwarves just think they're wild dogs, but the two of us know better, right? Years ago he came across the most forsaken place he'd ever seen, and dread filled him as the air turned cold - and the barghests were there, the same as these black mournful beasts with eyes full of death. Why have they replaced the lynx and wild aurochs that roamed here in Thorin's day? It doesn't make any sense. They must be driven off!

I head out of town to the west past several large stone buildings and soon come across a frozen riverbed. Thick sludge is piled up on the ice carrying a foul odor along, and the very river seems filled with a sickly rot. Nearby, lethally poisoned bears wander around, their flesh rotting off their bones even as they walk, as if they'd gone rancid before they've even died. I put a handful of the poor beasts out of their misery and take samples of the toxic soil before hastening my way back to town with them. Thank god for the disease-resistance of the elves!



I fill Dwalin in about the foul soil along the river, and he surmises that somehow the water that flows from clean mountain springs is tainted by a putrid rot. And as for those bears - the meat is rotted even though they're freshly killed! This plague must be responsible for what happened to his party, as many of them stopped at the river to fill their drinking flasks. No wonder they got sick! But what can be done about it…? Dwalin explains that mountain springs are always the purest of water, especially in these parts, so something must be causing the water to run foul near the source. He asks me to search for the source of the river, so I can perhaps find evidence as to what caused the disease. If the river runs clean again, he has hope that the animals and the snows will recover, and Thorin's Hall won't be lost to sickness entirely.

Heading northwest of Frerin's Court I come to a heavily industrialized area filled with tall chimneys billowing out thick gray smoke, surrounded by various constructions along the sides of the canyon walls.



Dourhands maintain the place and patrol it, using Aurochs to carry heavy loads - another new creature type. These are obviously based on bison or yaks in design, though their name is a reference to an extinct megafauna cattle species from the Pleistocene, one which is considered the wild ancestor of modern cattle. These are actually Tolkien canon, though not in this form - the Kine of Araw, or cattle of Oromë, were descended from even greater species governed by the Valar when they still roamed Middle-earth. Vorondil, Steward of Gondor, hunted one of them and used one of its horns to fashion Boromir's Horn of Gondor, actually. The description in the appendix of the Lord of the Rings resembles a pale white Texas Longhorn more than anything, but this works.



I work my way up the ramps, taking out several furious Dourhand dwarves along the way, who all seem riled up by something since they attack me so readily. I finally arrive at a cave entrance - where I encounter a familiar face. Elladan's face, to be precise - I've found his identical twin brother Elrohir!



I fill him in on what happened with Dwalin's party, and he's aghast that the dwarves drank from tainted water - those are ill tidings! He explains that the creatures around here, close to the source of the problem, have been transformed by the plague and look as if they'll die very soon. He originally came here to scout for signs of Elrond's prophetic dream, but the grim dwarves who live here have kept him from getting much farther, so far. Now, though… something evil stirs inside the nearby cave, and he asks if I can feel it too. Nope, sorry, I'm incompetent.

Elrohir believes there is hope for the sick dwarves yet, revealing that when poison seeps into the land, oftentimes the land will strive to heal itself, much like our bodies will fight infection. He is convinced that inside this mountain I might well encounter such an event. I should look for medicinal plants which grow despite being close to the toxin in order to help cure the dwarves. Elrohir doesn't know the actual source of the poison, actually, but he has his suspicions, since he feels a powerful chill when he stands near this entrance to the mountain. He promises me he'll stand watch and guard my rear while I head in to find out the truth. Okay, sure, scaredy cat…

Inside the cave, the first thing I see is a ghastly and enormous wriggling worm - which is pretty harmless, actually, though gross.



Less harmless are the skeletal mountain-wights that take up arms to face me, though their sickly nature make me wonder if they were always wights, or if these are the remains of people who were recently transformed into wights by this plague. That's a worrisome thought, given those zombie bears earlier… Wights are canon to Lord of the Rings, though largely confined to various ancient burial mounds from past ages, cursed by fell magic. The Barrow-Downs are a chunk of the book that's rarely adapted, though, since it relies on Tom Bombadil who is almost always absent. This game has both Tom and the wight, and a whole bunch more of them, too!



Thankfully I don't have to search long to find some herbs blooming even in this decrepit place - they're medicinal plants of the type Elrohir described. I explore deeper in, only to be ambushed by a ghastly yellow spirit of corruption which lashes out at me - it takes me a bit of time to disperse.



Curious where that thing came from, I follow the lower trail to discover a mossy shrine in the depths of the cavern, burning with an acidic, fell light. After I examine it, a greenish evil spirit erupts from the shrine and begins ranting at me, declaring that 'they' cannot be defeated, for tonight the little dwarf-king shall walk again! The spirit soon begins to evaporate after a duly apportioned amount of asskicking, but the dread of its words lingers. Belatedly, a final few words emanate from the fading spirit: 'But we are the ones who shall return to life!' Spooky…



Outside, Elrohir is pleased that I collected the herbs he mentioned, and tells me I'll be a hero to these dwarves for what I've done. He then asks what I saw while he mixes a salve to help the sick. He begins crushing leaves to make the remedy, smelling the clear sap and explaining it's the blood of the mountain striving to cleanse itself of corruption. He gives me the phial of the stuff, saying he's drained enough sap to save the ailing dwarves. If they could be rallied in time, the elves and dwarves together should be able to rid Ered Luin of the horrible fate that awaits it. He won't stand idly by while these fair lands are poisoned with death! Elrohir wishes me well, declaring that he'll hope we'll meet again when we go to put a stop to this madness. The only hope for saving this land is to stop Gormr from going through with his plans for tonight's unholy ritual!

Rushing back to Frerin's Court, Dwalin is astounded when I show up with a miracle draught to cure his kinsmen. Will wonders never cease? He calls me a valuable friend to have, then steps out of the way - I should be the one to administer my cure to the sick. I quickly go around feeding the stuff to Bogi, Selur, Olin and Mathi Stouthand, all of which begin to recover, as the healing effects of the cure readily apparent. If you say so, they're still just lying there…



After finishing up I ask Dwalin how to proceed, and the dwarf-lord says that since there is hope for the sick among his company, there's now time to deal with other pressing matters. Like this nonsense about Gormr trying to raise Skorgrím from the dead! Dead is dead, in his opinion. You can't bring someone back! (Ironically, elves have pretty explicit knowledge of what happens to them when they die, and at least one elf has actually returned from the dead.) Dwalin figures Gormr got some bad ideas stuck in his head, and Ered Luin has become corrupted in his hands as a result of this. We'll have to take it back!

The Dourhands can't be allowed to resurrect their king with foul sorcery, Dwalin decides, as they've already used it to poison the mountains and soil the lands of Thorin. Gormr's fall to corruption is unforgivable! He tells me we shall journey together to the tomb of Skorgrím, where the sons of Elrond will be waiting. We'll make a stand there against the Dourhands, and they'll think twice before falling to greed again! He explains the location of the tomb's entrance in case we forgot from a few hours ago, admitting that he's not sure what they'll find inside - we should stay on guard and be ready for anything. Dwalin asks me whether I am ready to go to the tomb now, even offering a travel dialogue.

...Maybe later.

I turn around and go to sleep. I'll get to the world-saving afterwards, I'm knackered. A nearby miner says that I've had a long day, and more danger awaits, so now is the time to get a bit of rest. He's put out a bedroll for me to use, and he promises to wake me if anything were to happen. The bedroll is more comfortable than I expected, or perhaps I was even more tired than I thought, but I quickly doze off and before long I'm lost in dreams…

The scene abruptly changes to a blue-tinted bloom-heavy dreamscape. I see myself in Lothlórien, in the garden of Galadriel. She calls out my name, telling me to listen to her words, and references that we are kin - hey, the origin choice actually matters! Or maybe she just means being an elf. She promises she won't disturb my sleep for long, as she can only visit dreams for a short time. The reason she called is that she looked into her Mirror and saw much that worried her. She invites me to join her, in order to see some of what she has seen.



I first see the foreboding image of Carn Dûm, capital of Angmar, looms in front of me - the dread land stirs. Shadows once stretched forth from Angmar to threaten Middle-Earth, and Galadriel fears they will again. On a tall balcony I see a red-clad figure in gleaming armor raise a fist to the sky.



The scene changes to the Bridge of Khazad-dûm in Moria, where a familiar fellowship appears.



Also, Gandalf faces off with a titanic demon, a Balrog of Morgoth.



Galadriel mentions that some of this may come to pass, or none of it - that is the nature of her Mirror's power. All of Middle-Earth is endangered, however, by the return of Sauron… The scene shifts to Rohan, to Meduseld in Edoras, where Théoden King slumps in his throne while Éowyn and Wormtongue flank him like an angel and a devil on his shoulders. Galadriel declares that they'll need strength, wisdom, and courage if we are to oppose Sauron. Men, elves, dwarves, hobbits - all free folk must stand together!



After I return to Galadriel's garden after these visions, she tells me that I am close to wakefulness now. The last tendrils of sleep will soon release me. As for why I was shown this vision? It is for a single reason. She saw me in the Mirror. Not once or twice, but often. Whether I desire it or not, my fate is tied to that of Middle-Earth. She tells me not to forget these words when I wake - for the free peoples have need of me. I must not fail them. As I jerk awake in my borrowed bedroll, the miner asks what my dreams were about. He is amazed at the curious dream, and admits he never has such fanciful ones - and would not wish to have them either! I guess this qualifies as my call to action, huh? Rude to interrupt my nap for it, though.

I finally take Dwalin up on his offer of transporting me to a dungeon - you have to get a Long Rest in before the boss, right? We get teleported straight into Skorgrím's tomb in the Berghold. As we arrive, Dwalin senses an intense evil in the air - the last time he felt something like this was when he was crossing Mirkwood all those years ago during the events of the Hobbit. Time to keep our wits sharp! Elladan, Elrohir, and Nos Grimsong fill out the rest of our party.. Dwalin insists we have to go now, lest we are too late to stop whatever evil is happening here. Ready? Sure, just let me take a couple of pictures.



Rushing inside, charging down an enormous empty hall, we are confronted by Gormr and his Dourhands who block the passage forward. Dwalin demands that Gormr stop this madness, but the guy wants to hear none of this. They should stop, just as the Dourhands are so close to reclaiming their glory? No more will Longbeards and elves determine their fortunes, for Skorgrím will return! Of course, Dwalin won't live to see it… He commands his Dourhand minions to kill us all before retreating, and Dwalin declares that we should stand firm as battle is joined.



After taking down a handful of Dourhands with insulting ease due to how many fighters there are on my side, Dwalin admits that he fears what Gormr might have done. They may be too late, he says, as 'Ivar' is far too powerful to storm the tomb directly. He'll stop us if we try, so we'll need to take a detour. Ivar, who's that? I approach closer, only to get nearly electrocuted by this 'Ivar the Bloodhand' fellow, though I can't actually make out where he is. I just know it because the text says he sent a lightning bolt my way. Okay, sure? Dwalin decides to split up with the twin elves, both tasked with finding an alternate path towards the far side of the hall which doesn't get you a face full of the ouchies. Good? Good.

Rushing up some nearby stairs, the two dwarves and I make our way along the side of the hall towards the end, where I can finally get a good look at what's going on. Skorgrím's corpse is splayed out on a slab of stone, surrounded on all sides by a dozen skeletal mountain-wights and various dourhands guards, as well as Gormr and another figure. This last one, a gaunt skeletal figure - ah, he's a Gaunt-lord, duh - is naturally the aforementioned Ivar the Bloodhand. While I watch helplessly in a cutscene despite having a ranged weapon in hand, Ivar declares that it's time to bring back the great dwarf-lord… but first, sacrifices must be made. Gormr is confused, not sure what this is about sacrifices, as he's still stuck on getting Skorgrím back to lead the Dourhands to glory. Ivar is dismissive, declaring that there are more powerful forces awakening than that - it is not the Dourhands he means to empower. Let's begin!

Gormr is convinced Skorgrím will right the wrong that they're committing here, only for a blast of lethal energy to suddenly kill all the Dourhand guards before the wights begin evaporating one by one, their fell energy gathering together until they manifest as an evil spirit akin to the ones I fought down in the mountain. Skorgrím's body begins floating in the air and the spirit swoops into it, reviving the corpse, which declares: 'I have awoken.'



I have a theory - this spirit is greenish, and we already fought a green spirit earlier which claimed that it would be the thing which would return to life, rather than the dwarf-lord. Is this actually showing Ivar resurrecting Skorgrím, or is it just a spirit possessing the dwarf king's corpse and driving it around like a meat puppet? I guess we'll find out in due time…

Ivar tells the revived Skorgrím to come with him since they have much to discuss, and forces gather that would stop them. Skorgrím is happy to follow Ivar, declaring that the dwarves can settle their differences in his absence. After the two depart and a gate slams shut behind them, Gormr rushes up to the bars and cries that he has been betrayed. He commands Ivar to stop, as Skorgrím has to stay and return the Dourhands to their former glory!

Finally released from cutscene hell, Dwalin rushes towards his foe and gives him an 'I-told-you-so' with his axe and his words, declaring that Gormr's actions were folly and he's shamed the Dourhands yet further. Gormr just dismisses Longbeards and their love of elves as the true source of shame. Soon enough he dies at Dwalin's axe, declaring with his last breath that he gives his life… for Skorgrím! Dwalin just calls him a base coward, then says it's about time to flee this place. As we descend back down to ground level, Dwalin notes that while we dealt a significant blow to the Dourhands, our failure to stop the ritual from taking place means that Skorgrím will have to be dealt with some other day.



But we'll have to leave quickly now, as whatever Ivar did just now with that necromantic ritual destabilized the tomb, and the ceiling is coming down around us! The actual departure is a criss-crossing route back and forth across the side-paths to avoid getting crushed by chunks of ceiling, until we catch up with Elladan and Elrohir. The former warns us that wights are lurking everywhere, and it was a hard-fought battle to get to a side-passage through the tomb - the only way they'll be getting out now! Dwalin pulls out his trusty axe again and one-shots a reinforced set of dungeon doors, which - hot damn! Dude's still got it.



We all rush up the incline as the passageway almost collapses around us, taking out Dourhands all the way - we even come across a bunch of them that were already crushed by the debris. They're not quite dead yet, but I guess there's no such thing as mercy-killing here, we just leave them to suffer. Not much later a couple more of them get squashed by a big rockslide, barring another exit.

Sprinting out of there, past the statue of a big dwarf, we finally get to stable ground, exiting all the way back at the entrance of the tomb where Nos takes a load off and rests up. That was way too close! Dwalin summarizes that while we did not stop the Dourhands' plans here, we've done well this day, for Gormr is dead and by the end of the day Thorin's Hall shall be free of the Dourhands, and everyone will know they're dwarves of no account. He wonders, though, when they'll see the effects of this day and the return of Skorgrím. He hopes that after I and the rest of the elves leave Thorin's Hall behind us, we'll still return to aid them, as we've proven valuable friends. For now, it's time to leave these accursed halls behind us and move on…

We're heading straight into a two year timeskip, this time. Yup, the hits just keep on coming, it's lucky we're basically immortal! This will be the last one of this magnitude, though. Next up is the Epic Prologue, the actual beginning of the game proper in the 'current day.' Well, the elven path, anyway. This game has a bunch of beginnings. Maybe I should cover the rest of these at some point just to have some idea of what else is going on, before everyone eventually converges together for the actual Epic Quest? We've already seen hints of what the dwarves experienced, but what about men or hobbits? What pieces of the puzzle have they seen which I am blind to...?
 
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She saw me in the Mirror. Not once or twice, but often.
"Along with two million and eight hundred thousand other people, so I'll be giving this speech a lot before I can go and take a break."
Maybe I should cover the rest of these at some point just to have some idea of what else is going on, before everyone eventually converges together for the actual Epic Quest? We've already seen hints of what the dwarves experienced, but what about men or hobbits? What pieces of the puzzle have they seen which I am blind to...?
I'd be interested in seeing that. Beyond the prologues, do the different races get their own content beyond a few lines here and there?
 
I'd be interested in seeing that. Beyond the prologues, do the different races get their own content beyond a few lines here and there?

There's one or two other race-specific quests later on, I think, but for the most part there's a uniform 'Free People' route with changes in dialogue based on race wherever relevant. The introductions have overlap - men and hobbits have some degree of overlap, as do dwarves and elves.

The 'Epic Prologue' is distinct between all of the main races though, with only dwarves and elves crossing over on when they team up to take on Skorgrím. High Elves and Beornings mostly just tack onto their main race at some point, so they only have a pretty limited lead-in before they end up in Celondim or Bree. Not sure about the Stout-Axes, honestly?
 
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Stout-Axes work the same as Beornings. Instance with a couple of short quests, then straight to Frerin's Court to do regular Dwarf quests.
 
Stout-Axes work the same as Beornings. Instance with a couple of short quests, then straight to Frerin's Court to do regular Dwarf quests.

What do you reckon, should I cover the various introductions/prologues first to get a fuller picture of the world being set up here, or should I just get a move on and start doing Bree stuff after the elven prologue? I'm not sure if the epic prologues are race-locked (beyond the dwarf and elf one being mutually exclusive) but the introductions definitely are...
 
What do you reckon, should I cover the various introductions/prologues first to get a fuller picture of the world being set up here, or should I just get a move on and start doing Bree stuff after the elven prologue? I'm not sure if the epic prologues are race-locked (beyond the dwarf and elf one being mutually exclusive) but the introductions definitely are...

I'd say just do the Bree stuff after elf-dwarf prologue, doing the Human/Hobbit introduction isn't really necessary, I think the extra information you get is explained anyway when you reach the united path.
 
Ered Luin - Elf (Part 1) - Celondim

Epic Prologue - Elf (Part 1)

Returning from yet another timeskip, I am interrupted in my reflections by an elven lady named Eilian, thereby implying that the entire previous chunk of gameplay was an actual flashback that my elven character was re-experiencing - neat. I find myself in the settlement of Celondim in the far south-east of Ered Luin, about as far from Thorin's Hall as you can get while still inhabiting the same map.



This town lies along the river Lhûn, just south of Duillond - we'll get there later. It's also quite pretty.



Celondim is a port used for ferrying wood to Mithlond, where the White Ships depart for the Uttermost West. Celondim itself is built across several hills, and filled to the brim with trainers and merchants, not to mention a ton of craftspeople and their facilities, and a stretch of farmland near the highest peaks. This is the hub for most activity for a while, in other words - at least if you're an elf.



Eilian apologizes for disturbing my meditations next to the river, and asks if I could have a word with an elf named Cardavor in the city proper. He seemed pretty worried about something, and since she's heard tales of how brave I am, she figures I might be able to assist. I'm pointed towards the nearby piers to find him. Since the introduction is over anyway, I walk over, only to find him lamenting his lot next to a mailbox. I look inside as I pass, and I've actually gotten a letter from Dwalin - apparently he heard I was back in the area and wrote me a letter of commendation. He also included a gift, noting that other people pitched in what they could and placed it all in a nice gift box. Included in the note is a request to read the letter inside the gift box, then seek out Laenin in Celondim or Bog Deepdives at Thorin's Hall. Interestingly, I spot both Elladan and Elrohir hanging out nearby, side by side, but they don't have much to say at the moment.



Cardavor greets me curiously though, asking for my name - we haven't had time yet to get acquainted since I got here. He explains that he'd heard that I'm well-traveled, and thus he asks if I ever saw his son Avorthal on my journeys. Cardavor received a message from him saying he was coming over from nearby Duillond to visit, but he has not yet arrived, which is rather unlike him.



In his travels, it seems Avorthal tends to speak with other people on the road, and to visit the vale of Nen Hilith with a friend of his, a dwarf named Athal. Athal watches the road and helps the few dwarf-travelers who make their way down to Celondim, you see. Perhaps Avorthal simply forgot the time? The worried dad asks me to go check up on him. He gives me quick directions to the woods southwest of Celondim, with the vale of Hen Hilith on the far end. There should be a small elven encampment there. If Avorthal can't be found there, perhaps Athal will be present to give some clues.

Nearby, an elf named Thinglaer is smitten with natural beauty, like a lot of elves are, and recalls wandering often in his youth - but some of the places that were once fair have long since fallen into decay. Some of the older ruins have even become habitations for four creatures that gnaw at the edges of elven lands! He has set himself the task of cleansing some of these places before he leaves. To this end he has in his possession a token given to him by Elrond long ago, imbued with a light that evil creatures find painful to bear. Since he's apparently too busy being a hippie, Thinglaer asks me to head to the ruins of Tham Gelair west of Celondim and clear out foul creatures before placing the token there so that its light keeps them from slinking back inside during the night.

The elf Dwalin mentioned, Laenin the Glade Watcher, stands nearby and reflects on the elves slowly leaving Middle-earth behind, declaring that soon elves shall be legend and memory to the mortals who will remain behind on these shores. While we're still here, though, we must do whatever we can to ensure these lands remain safe and beautiful. Indeed, the preservation of the land is why he's come to Celondim, as he and his brethren have been looking into recent events in a glade to the north. He's here to enlist anyone willing to discover the source of an infestation of sickle-flies among the trees to the southwest of the port. If I'm willing, I should take out some of the sickle-flies as I go and report to Ovorlas at Nen Hilith. Well, ain't that handy, that's where I was going already!



Belatedly I check on the letter inside the gift I was sent, which also included various low-level rewards like a temporary mount and some healing potions. There's actually two letters I received - one of them is the one from Dwalin and it reveals that he is currently the Lord of the Longbeards of the Blue Mountains, Steward of Thorin's Hall. Good on you, dude! The letter lauds me as someone who helped him in the attempt to stop the resurrection of Skorgrím by Ivar the Bloodhand, and requests that the reader, if it is within their power, should give me some measure of welcome and thanks for all that was done. Apparently the dwarf remembers the travels well. I hand it over to Laenin as requested, and he notes that it's not often a hero of my stature visits here - now that's a bit much, no? He hands me several tokens with which I can trade goods, and then shows me his wares. One of them is a bauble which will increase my running speed by a few percent for the first fifteen levels - yoink!

The other letter is actually a pamphlet called 'Outfitting Yourself and Others' and is an introduction to the crafting guilds of Middle-earth, who thank me for all I've done for the Free People - which isn't terribly much. I also got an invitation to speak with their representative Golphedinir at the Crafter's Terrace inside Celondim. It then condescendingly compliments my ability as a combatant but invites me to try my hand at a less violent form of work. Golphedinir is an able teacher who can introduce me to pursuits ranging from cooking to scholarship to smithing and everything in between. A nearby elf, Mibreth, tells me I should head over to their friend Gwaloth at the terrace, where many useful and comely goods are fashioned, giving me directions up a nearby hill. Thanks!

I make my way up and find Gwaloth and Golphedinir close together. The latter says he's been awaiting my arrival - he's very excited that the letter the guilds sent reached me. He introduces himself and explains that he's here to lead me through the first stages of learning a craft, and that he'll answer any questions I might have. Crafting in LOTRO is pretty similar to how it is in other MMOs of the era - there's gathering professions and crafting ones, and different people trade items to fuel each other's development trees. You equip the relevant crafting tool, which can eventually break, and you can buy some ingredients from vendors while you can track others in the wild with various abilities. You can also master recipe tiers to get critical crafts which give more or better rewards than the standard result, usually by including option rarer ingredients on top of the base. For now, I'll have to pick which crafts I'm actually interested in pursuing.



Crafting in LOTRO comes in the form of 'vocations', sets of three different professions. Each choice has a gathering profession, a production profession, and a third of either type. You can always change your choice, but you'll lose any levels in professions which don't overlap between vocations. There's seven choices here - Armorer which gives you prospecting, metalsmithing, and tailoring. Armsman, which gives you prospecting, weaponsmithing, and woodworking. Explorer, which gives you forestry, prospecting, and tailoring. Historian, which gives you farming, scholarship, and weaponsmithing. Tinker, which gives you prospecting, cooking, and jewelry crafting. Woodsman, which gives you farming, forestry, and woodworking. And finally Yeoman, which gives you farming, cooking, and tailoring.

I debated on my choice for a bit, tempted to make fancy bows and be semi-self-sufficient with Woodsman, but then I noted that scholarship is actually very relevant to hunters, since many unique class items are created by them alone. I can always find quest reward bows or drops, but the ability to make fancy buff scrolls for myself and get a steady supply of useful class items? Sold. Plus it's the profession which is all about hunting down rare artifacts in out of the way locations and studying the past, so that works on a meta level too. Farming delivers some of the ingredients needed for some of the scholar's fancy potions, dyes, and tinctures - and all the pipeweed we could ever want. Weaponsmith is… there, justified by the fact that historians have a particular interest in legendary historical weapons. That'll come up later, when we hit Moria! I'll have to see if I can get some ingredients from the open market later to make myself some knives in the meantime.

Finishing up my busywork I make my way out of town across the vale to the south, enjoying the lush scenery of multi-colored trees and grasslands under a night sky.



I encounter some of those sickle-flies Laenin mentioned and quickly take them out before moving on. I kind of get the hives just looking at these.



A little ways further I discover a tiny campsite consisting of a few dirty tents and some bedrolls. Sitting there is Athal, the dwarf that the missing Avorthal was supposed to be with. Athal is surprised to hear his friend is missing - he's actually still waiting for the elf to show up. He tried to enter the vale to look for him, but the elves of Celondim forbade him from entering and since Avorthal is not here to speak on his behalf, he didn't dare force the issue. Seems there's some inter-racial conflict going on...

He apologizes that he can't be of any more help to me or Cardavor. He says it's unlike Avorthal to be late or set aside his usual habits - at least not without sending a word. Still, he's spent much time contemplating in recent days, and whenever he desired solitude, he was known to spend time beneath the white trees that grow in this vale. Perhaps he's there now, unbeknownst to anyone? Athal asks me to have a look and see if I can find him. Athal would do it himself, but he dares not defy the elves again so soon after the last time.



I walk up to Ovorlas to report my slaying of the sickle-flies. He's quite pleased, stating that it's recently become a necessity to drive the creatures out of the forest, lest they kill the trees. My aid is welcome here, as there's much to do! My arrival heralds hope! Ovorlas explains that a pack of wolves have recently arrived in the valley, though their reason for migrating en masse is unclear. Perhaps with my assistance, we can figure this out? He tells me to seek out two other glade-wardens in the camp, Glavrolnen and Helhathel, who will explain the tasks that he's assigned to them. If I were to fulfill their requests and gain their favor, I'd also receive Overlas' own.

Glavrolnen tells me that while he's here to clear the land of this new threat, they're also here at the behest of some of their kinsmen. There's a vintner (or winemaker) over in Celondim who wants only to make one final offering to store enough wine to survive the journey into the west, and Glavrolnen has offered to recover enough wood to build a cask for the task. He asks me to find some in the vale which has not been spoiled by sickle-flies or the wolves and return to him to gain his favor. Helhathen's request is simpler - she asks me to cull some of the overflow of wolves to help restore the balance of nature. It involves shooting them with arrows, so I can definitely do that!

As I go about my tasks - killing mangy wolves, sorting through rotten planks, and keeping an eye out for a wayward elf - I come across a crude collar around the neck of one of the wolves. Looking closely at it, I can tell it's not the work of dwarves or elves. Perhaps Ovorlas will be able to discern a measure of insight? Eh, I'll take it to him later.



After sorting through entire too many piles of shitty lumber and murdering a small army of wolves, I come across something unsettling - a corpse. It's not an elven corpse, at least, but it's bad news anyway - it's a dead goblin, and lying by his side is an elven satchel. Avorthal's satchel, perhaps? Grabbing it, I quickly make my way back to camp to check up with everyone and show my findings.



Helhathel and Glavrolnen are pleased with my work, bringing hope where before there was only sorrow. Next I speak to Ovorlas, who studies the collar I brought him and confirms it as goblin handiwork. It's time to inform the others in Celondim - if the goblins have grown this aggressive, actions must be taken to drive them away from the homes of the elves! Ovorlas decides that not another moment can be allowed to pass without informing the town of what's going on, so he sends me over. He also wonders whether Lord Dorongúr's protection around here is fading, now that many elves are making their way to the shores to depart. Regardless, he tells me I'll have to head back to town and let his superior know what's going on - that'd be Laenin. Belatedly he also compliments me on my help with clearing out the wolves and gathering wood - but he figures I'm needed elsewhere now for more important tasks. Still, I won't soon be forgotten here!

I next go to face a more difficult encounter - I bring the lost elf-satchel to Athal, who immediately identifies it as Avorthal's pack. He's afraid that something untoward might have happened to his friend, and begs me to take the satchel to Cardavor and to assure said elf that Athal is willing to do whatever he can to help find his friend - Cardavor's son. As I move to leave, Glavrolnen asks me for one last favor - the cooper (barrel-maker) in Celondim, Bregedúr, needs the wood I gathered earlier to craft the wine-cask he mentioned, so he asks me to take the supplies along and deliver them to him at the Crafting Terrace. Sure, sure, I'm heading that way anyway…

Arriving back in town without incident, I drop by Bregedúr first since he's on the way - he takes the wood off my hands and thanks me for the delivery. He then pauses and asks for a moment of my time - he has a request of his own. A dear friend of his, Brethilwen, spends her days tending to the grapes at Limael's Vineyard to the northwest, and sent word not long ago that she required a cask for a special wine to present for the White Ships. He's already crafted the cask, but needs someone to take it over to her, since the preparations for departure are keeping him very busy. Figures!



I head over towards the piers to find Cardavor, and the elf is distraught when he recognizes the distinctive pattern stitched on the side of the satchel - his son did that himself, long ago! Ah, such fell tidings! He asks me if I'm sure there were no other signs of Avorthal, some sign that maybe his son might have been hiding nearby, safe from the wolves and other dangers but too far away to reclaim the satchel? Nay, that's a weak hope, and he mustn't trust it. Some foe has brought down his son - that's the only answer.

Because of the corpse I found, Cardavor is quick to blame the goblins, and he declares bloody vengeance against them. None will take as many as three steps within these lands before elves will be there to meet them with swordblade or arrowhead! He bids me to slay goblins wherever I can find them and cry aloud the name of Avorthal, so the foul creatures know whose doom has come upon them! He then informs me that while I was gone, word came to him that Limael's Vineyard has been defiled by goblins, led by a vile creature calling himself Pampraush. He asks me to seek out this weird-named fellow and his minions and kill them in his son's name. Well, that's convenient!

I quickly walk across the road to Laenin, letting him know about what I discussed with his subordinates in the vale, and he tells me he'll immediately pass the information along to Lord Dorongúr at Duillon to the north. He also says he'd never have learned this without my help, and he's in my debt. With a feather in my cap I make my way back out of town, taking a moment to appreciate the waterfall cascading down the mountains in the distance before moving on. Have to appreciate the little things, right? Especially if you're six-hundred-and-two-plus years old.



I soon find myself at the outskirts of the vineyard, where I run into Brethilwen. I deliver Bregedúr's gift to her, but she admits that this thoughtful gift could have come at a better time. With the situation at the vineyard the way it is, she's not sure if there will be any wine to go into that cask for the long journey!



She explains that by this time of year, most of the grapes have been picked already and the wine bottled. Still, this was a generous season and the vines are still laden with grapes, so she'd welcome my assistance in gathering what remains. It's not easy work, but it'll surely add to my appreciation of the wine I drink. It's harder when nasty goblins find their way into the field and drive you off, but she thinks I'm sturdy enough to pull it off. She asks me to gather grapes from the vines that are still hale and hearty and see that the cask is filled with the finest the vale has to offer. Lady, why are these your priorities!?

Belatedly she acknowledges the goblin infestation, only to immediately ask me for another favor - it's bad enough that the goblins despoil the vineyard, you see, but recently a party of the wretched things broke into an old wine-cellar and stole a number of flasks of rare and ancient vintage. No doubt those evil creatures have already drunk or destroyed most of the wine, but she asks if I can try and recover any of the bottles. She'd be deeply in my debt. Lady, are you just a raging alcoholic? Is that what this is?

Venturing into the vineyard proper, I quickly pluck some grapes from the very prominent vines growing everywhere.



Then I start sniping Blue-Crag goblins from afar, often one-shotting them with one of my newer skills. So nice! I run into their leader right next to the main building of the vineyard. Pampraush is pretty pissed at my presence. As I lay into him, he boldly declares: "If you're looking for the Elf-prince, you're too late! The dwarves have him now!" Now there's some interesting information to keep in mind!



I return to Brethilwen, who is very pleased with my delivery of rare expensive wine and freshly plucked grapes. Hard work will bring satisfaction, she says, not just in wine-making but in all things. Yeah, okay boomer. Not like you did any of that work. As she fills the cask and makes it ready for delivery, she thanks me again for my assistance and then reluctantly decides that since Bregedúr sent the cask over, he should be the one to enjoy the finest wine in the valley. That took some real effort on your part, didn't it lady? But at least you're trying to moderate.

We'll pick up back in Celondim later...
 
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I like how this artstyle is much less cartoony than Wow. More grounded and realistic, to a certain extent.
 
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I like I like how this artstyle is much less cartoony than Wow. More grounded and realistic, to a certain extent.

Yeah, LOTRO intentionally went with a more down-to-earth design space to reflect the relatively more mundane nature of a lot of this world - it's fantasy, sure, but it only barely qualifies as 'high fantasy' and is actively moving towards being low fantasy due to the elves leaving. Sauron's resurgence is really a deathrattle for the old world, one of the last remaining threats from a bygone age trying for one last stab at relevance before it's buried in irrelevance along with all the rest of the old world. Same with Smaug in the Hobbit, or the Balrog. Time for Man to take the stage.

You can still find outlandish locations here and there in LOTRO, but they tend to be the more explicitly mystical like stuff from previous ages or related to the elves. Early on they even avoided magic a lot, mostly interpreting a lot of classic 'sorcery' abilities as just juiced up trickery, at least on the hero side of things. You know, flaming pinecones and all that, the prestidigitation nonsense Gandalf gets up to, or bard stuff using music which fits remarkably well. Newer classes stretch that a bit, with Beornings doing transformations and runekeepers bringing some dwarven-style magics to the table.

As for the graphics, fidelity did go up over time, with some higher quality facial models for player characters and higher quality textures and models in later expansions and updates, but even those are naturally several years old by now and running on an ancient engine. Design doesn't really age, though, as much as graphics do - there's still plenty of cool design features to explore in this game, and they look about as well as they're ever going to on modern hardware where you can crank everything to max and a bunch of antialiasing too.
 
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Thank you for starting this. LotRO is an incredible labor of love that deserves this kind of close examination, especially given how totally an MMO can just disappear once it's determined it isn't making quite enough money.
 
Thank you for starting this. LotRO is an incredible labor of love that deserves this kind of close examination, especially given how totally an MMO can just disappear once it's determined it isn't making quite enough money.

Yeah, I've had games just shut down their servers before and disappear. Even if you wanted to relive nostalgic memories, you can't anymore. It doesn't seem like LOTRO is quite at that stage, but it's entirely possible we might get there someday, and all these elaborate stories just vanish like snow before the rising sun. Fated to face the Doom of Man, I suppose.

LOTRO didn't really overhaul its old areas much over the years, which some would consider a downside - but it does mean that each area is essentially a time capsule of the era it came out in, revealing how the writers and designers refined their craft over time. That, and all the nostalgic hallmarks are still there, essentially unchanged by the passage of time. It'll be an interesting trek! LOTRO has fewer entirely vacuous 'get me 5 pig snouts' quests than some, and even when they're there they tend to be in context of short series of narratively connected quests, so they're more interesting than usual. All the worldbuilding adds something, I think.

That said, Ered Luin is absolutely lousy with family drama, especially where brothers are concerned, so I hope that's not an ubiquitous cliché. You can only run into so many characters who reveal they have a brother over yonder who also has a task for me before you start to roll your eyes!
 
Ered Luin - Elf (Part 2) - Celondim, Duillond, Thrasi's Lodge

Epic Prologue - Elf (Part 2)

As I head back to town, I come across a ruin infested with rats, and realize suddenly that I've stumbled on the ruins of Tham Gelair, which Thinglaer requested I cleanse with his fancy little token. After slaying half a dozen scurrying dirty harbor-rats I find an elaborate stone table inside, on which I place the token I've been given.



Before I leave, however, I spot something of interest - right in the corner, propped up against the walls, there's a shattered pitcher. This looks like a job for… scholar-man. There's a bunch of old text fragments inside, crafting ingredients for scholar recipes. Archeology, woo! Let's not read too closely or it might turn out to be the diary of my dad or something, elves live long enough for it.



Swinging by Bregudúr on my way into town, I give him the filled wine-cask and he thanks me as well as Brethilwen for understanding his intentions. He can guess that I fought off a helping of goblins to make this happen, and declares that it was for a worthy cause. Before I can leave, the guy quickly slips in another request - he promised a bottle of last year's vintage to a friend in Duillond and his labors kept him too busy to fulfill that pledge. He asks me to deliver a bottle to Dolengyl for him at the refuge that lies up north beyond Limael's Vineyard.

I also inform Thinglaer of my success, and he's still being a total hippie about everything. He tells me about his brother Calengil who is staying at Duillond, and who is also striving to restore the old places to a pristine state. He figures his bro might also like some help, and asks me to give him a visit.



Cardavor is shocked when I inform him that Pampraush's exclamations imply that his son is still alive. His heart wants to believe it, but can he really trust the word of a goblin about the life of Avorthal? Still, he can't fathom why the goblin would say this if it wasn't true. If Avorthal is alive, then his capture does not bode well, for it's doubtful he will live long while imprisoned by outcast dwarves. They're no better than goblins! Thanking me for all I've done, Cardavor asks me to keep helping him search for Avorthal - there is so much yet to do! The elves of Celondim haven't had dealings with the dwarves for a very long time, and even those are hardly pleasant memories. Indeed, I was at Edhelion when Skorgrím at his ilk invaded, right? I must agree with him that dwarves are scheming and self-serving, and not to be trusted!

The apparent racist resolves that the elves must gather their strength and lay siege to the dwarves of Ered Luin and rescue Avorthal from their clutches. He muses that only Dorongúr Whitethorn, the Master of Duillond, has the authority to muster such a force. He asks me to bring him news of Avorthal's fate, so they can arrange a strike on the dwarves before it is too late! He sends me over to Toronn at the stable before I go, telling me he'll surely hasten my journey over to the neighboring refuge…



Toronn tells me that he and his brother have long lived on these shores, and they've seen much in that time - but soon they'll leave this place and sail into the West. His brother Bregard, however, does not see clearly and wishes to remain behind. They've always lived together, though, so Toronn feels torn - he can't imagine a day in his life without his bro's company and counsel, and thus he's the last remaining cord which binds him to Middle-earth. While he is of a mind to remain, Toronn is forced to wait here, stuck. He asks if I could go to Duillond and see if I can convince Bregar to join him at Celondim - it's high time they begin their journey! (Do I even want to do this? Suck it up, immortal bro, you're an elf. Waiting is our superpower.)

I forego a horse and make my way up the rose on foot, soon leaving Celondim behind as I spot a new elven settlement on the horizon.



I spot the refuge of Duillond pretty quickly, passing by some festival grounds that I'm saving for some other day and spotting Calengil under a nearby gazebo. He's pleased to hear that Thinglaer managed to drive the darkness back from Tham Gelair with my aid, and admits he has a similar task before him - but he has no trinket from Rivendell to help him. He does know a lot about the herbs of these lands, however, and thinks he can mix a draught that should serve to purify the nearby ruins. Will I lend my aid in this endeavor? Obviously. He's pleased and tells me that he has most of the ingredients he needs to make a draught that can cleanse the ruins of Dol Ringwest, but he's still missing one thing - a fragrant herb which grows on the shores of the river below Duillond, which is build partly into a cliff-face. He asks me to gather some in his place, since he has to keep a close eye on the remedy he's brewing, as it's in a delicate stage.



I pass by a mailbox and discover I got some questionable spam-mail from a Bingo Boffin - that's part of a very long ongoing questline which spans a wide array of levels and it starts in the Shire, so I'm leaving that for some other time. A second letter comes from Brethilwen, who sent me a bottle of wine from Limael's Vineyard, figuring I deserve a taste of the vintage I helped prepare. Cool!

As I wander around, I'm struck by how I appreciate the style LotRO gives to elven construction. Between the trees, the white marble and the statues built onto gravity-defying balconies amidst tall towers, it really has a flair of its own.



I walk around the edge of Duillond and find its back half is dangling precariously over the river below, with various rounded terraces without any fencing to prevent someone from falling off. Even cooler!



Near the beginning of this deathtrap I find Dolengyl, who's pleased that Berengúr came through on his promise at last, and ruefully tells herself she should have known he'd never forget a friend. She also decides to stash the bottle for thirty years so it'll be a nice vintage. The benefits of immortality!

I move on to find Bregar, who tells me that while his brother might want to leave Middle-earth, Bregar feels that they should take a stand against the growing Shadow in the east. Perhaps with my help, Toronn will see reason. This world they love will soon face great peril, and they should defend it - facing that, he can't sail West!



Bregar tells me that Toronn must be convinced that while he might stay behind in Middle-earth, he'll always be with his brother anyway. To do this, he'll need my aid, of course. He tells me that much of this land has been their shelter and teacher, and their memories are filled with moments of joy and laughter because of it. He thinks that Toronn will appreciate the gift he has in mind, perhaps enough to allow the two to begin their separate journeys. In the ruins of Dol Ringwest there lies a sword on a stone cairn, which was carried once by a Dúnadan the brothers fought beside in defense of their homeland. Perhaps that could be used to convince his brother of their duty to Middle-Earth. Bregar can't just leave town without warning, so he hopes that I see the need to seal the rift between brothers, and assist him in this effort.

I confirm that I'll do this task, and Bregar is pleased - but not so pleased that he won't pile more tasks on top. He describes Dol Ringwest as a place where ancient battles were once fought, and it seemed like the evil of the place had been purged. Now, though, goblins toil within the ruins and desecrate its memory. Bregar asks me to clear the goblins from the ruins while I'm there, as it'll ease his heart and perhaps aid Toronn in deciding to leave in peace.

Making my way further along the platforms, I find Dorongúr Whitethorn again - he's put on some new clothes since we last spoke. Six-hundred years you wear the same outfit, and now you change it up? Some people are weird.



I let him know about Cardavor's descent into racist abuse. He's troubled by news of dwarves working alongside goblins and conspiring to abduct an Elf-prince. That seems foolhardy, even for them! (Wait, he's a prince?) Dorongúr decides not to call warriors to arms just yet - Cardavor is full of rage, which is to be expected, but as Master of Duillond it's his job to exercise restraint and check the facts first. If the dwarves have indeed taken Avorthal, then the elves shall fall upon them with such fury that the mountains shall shake at their passing, but this could still just be a trick of the goblins. They would have much to gain from a war between elves and dwarves, after all…

Dorongúr dispatched an emissary, Gailthin, to the dwarf-city of Gondamon to try and relax the growing tensions between the races, but he fears that rumors of Avorthal's captivity may prove too great a strain for her to ease. He bids that I journey northwest soon to reach Gondoman and tell Gailthin what has transpired. Together, he figures, the two of us should be able to learn the truth of Avorthal's whereabouts and rescue him if he is indeed a prisoner of the dwarves. He does not wish for war until they are certain of his fate, at any rate. If Avorthal has been harmed or if he can't be freed, then the warriors will be called to arms - but not before. Interestingly you can read Dorongúr's note yourself while you have it on your person - nothing too revelatory in there, but it's neat.

I decide to leave the emissary thing for later - because how important is defusing a war, really? After a quick dip down to the river to pick up some fragrant herbs for use in the purifying draught, I return to Calengil and arrive just in time for him to process the herbs and finish the mix. Handy!



With the draught ready, all that remains is to sprinkle it on the ground within the ruins of Dol Ringwest. It will encourage and speed the growth of natural vines that are often found in such places, so the ruin will be buried in them by springtime. From there the whole place will become little more than rubble, returning the place to pristine nature. Okay, so I'm delivering turbo-kudzu with a side order of demolition? Sure. Calengil can't actually stomach destroying the place himself, since he once loved it before it became so decrepit. He asks me to pour the draught onto the ground next to the two remaining towers. Time and nature will handle the rest.

Before I leave, he tells me one more thing - his duty to this land won't be complete until the monster that brought ruin to the area is dealt with. Since my efforts so far have been in earnest and proved I desire to see the land restored and cleansed of evil, he figures I might be interested. He tells me that while in the ruins, I should seek out the leader of the goblins there, Durglup, a particularly nasty type who should not be underestimated. I should murder him to death, in other words.

I set my sights on Dol Ringwest, since most of Duillond has told me to get over there by now. It's a pretty cool and imposing ruin with several tall towers and plenty of goblins.



Still, it's fairly compact for the amount of stuff I'm doing there. There's a stone cairn pretty close to the entrance where I pick up the broken sword I was asked to retrieve, and I slay enough goblins to satisfy the requirement before I even properly enter.



Finding the first tower is easy - it's easily visible from afar, and sprinkling some potion is easy enough. I run into Durglup before I find the second, and we have a scrap - he's tougher than the rest, but not by much. The second tower is only a hop and a skip away by that point, even if there's a half dozen goblins in between me and it. Easy peasy.



After cleaning the place of loot and various scholarly relics, I head back to town victorious. Calengil is happy that the threat posed by Durglup is no more and the draught was delivered, though it pains him to know that he'll never again walk among those spires which he remembers from his youth. Better this than to leave Middle-earth with the knowledge that they've become a home for creatures of darkness, though. As a final request, Calengil decides to copy Thinglaer's bit and send me towards another brother - the youngest of the three, Glamír, who has taken the same oath to cleanse dark places - of course - and likely requires aid, since he's not yet returned. He's up in the lands of Haudh Lin to the north, which are considerably more dangerous than this area. He adds that the third brother is likewise of hotter temperament, as befitting the place.

I go to deliver the broken sword to Bregar next, who reflects that the memory of Dol Ringwest will always be one of melancholy to him - knowing that the goblins have been purged for now restores a small amount of hope in him. He thanks me for the timely resolution to his problems, and tells me that the sword means much to him, broken and dulled as it might be. The passage of time does little to dull his memories of that battle in which it was broken. Perhaps he's underestimated the importance of brothers? He didn't think the sight of the blade would move him so!

He explains that the sword belonged to a Dúnadan named Thoram, a dear friend. He died helping to defend Dol Ringwest many long years ago, and he was buried where he fell in honor of his sacrifice, and a cairn placed on top. Perhaps Toronn was right after all - there are many harsh memories here, and in the West they'd be free of such pain. Regardless, Thoram's sword deserves a better home, away from the goblins that loot the dead. He requests that I bring it to a man named Langlas at Thrasi's Lodge, north along the road and west of the dwarf-port of Kheledûl. He's a Ranger and will keep the history of his kinsman safe. Meanwhile, Bregar intends to send word to his brother in Celondim… It's about time for me to leave, and I set out.



With my affairs in Duillond now completed, I make my way northwards, turning slightly west towards a secluded little cottage on the edge of the woods. This is Thrasi's Lodge, and a handful of people are there, including a stable master and a dwarf with a cat, as well as a Ranger of the North.



I pull out the sword I retrieved from Dol Ringwest, and hand it over to Langlas. The Ranger promises he will honor Thoram's memory, and guess that the recovery of his sword must have arisen from the debate between Toronn and Bregar, as it has long been a concern that they might leave Middle-earth during these troubled times. He retrieves a scroll from his belongings and hands it over, telling me that I should give it to Bregard, as it may prove useful in convincing Toronn to remain.

While here, though, I speak to the other people - Celairant tells me that an elf named Penglir gave him a beautiful bow, but he's gone and lost it! Or, more accurately, it was stolen from him. Rangers make it a point to stay out of the feud between the Longbeards and the Dourhands, so he wasn't expecting to be waylaid by brigands from Kheledûl! They overpowered him while he was looking for a good place to practice archery outside town. The brigand leader Starkath skulks somewhere near the wall of the dwarven port, and probably has Penglir's bow in his possession. Celairant beats himself up for being an unworthy failure and an embarrassment to Langlas and the Rangers, so he dares not press his luck by fighting Starkath. Maybe I could go in his place?

Thrasi, the dwarven owner of the lodge, sits on the ground nearby with a lynx-mother at his side. I ask him what's up, and he tells me that he was out hunting bears recently when he came across a mother lynx and her cubs. The poor thing was torn up by some hendrevail - evil eagles, pretty much - and he was only able to grab the mom before the birds went after him too. He twisted his ankle something terrible in the escape, but he figures it'll heal, as will the old she-cat. She left her litter behind, though, but the two of them are both too battered and bruised to save them themselves. Thrasi admits he'd feel awful if something happened to them, but he can't do anything about it. He asks me if I could head over and inspect the abandoned bear den nearby for signs of the critters, since that's the most likely place they'd be able to hide.

Deciding that widdle kitties are way more important than stolen bows or brotherly relations, I head over to the nearby abandoned bear den - which is actually pretty stocked with bears, it turns out. There's also a lot of hendrevail around, but they go down in one or two hits each.



I get to the mouth of the den itself, and hear the plaintive mewing of a hungry, frightened cub inside. The poor thing is scared to leave while there's still hendrevail around, so it's about time to deal with that. After a spot of local bird-genocide I manage to coax the cub out with soothing words, and the moment I grab it I set off on a run, just in case there's also bears in there.



Thrasi is delighted that I managed to find a surviving cub and takes it from me, though he gets scratched for his trouble. Feisty, this one! Too bad its litter-mates didn't fare so well, but that's the way of things. After the kitty starts nipping at his beard, Thrasi wonders if perhaps the beastie is hungry.

Since the only meals Thrasi has laying around are either dried or smoked, he thinks it's time to get some fresh meat for mom and cub. He asks me for another favor, obviously, this time to check the traps he set around the woods here for any rabbit carcasses, though he leaves me the option of hunting down a live one and just shooting it. Same end result. Entirely too much time later I finally find one, and feed the cats.



Unfortunately the mom doesn't seem all that fat and sassy despite this, and Thrasi figures he knows an old dwarven home-remedy which might help. He'd got plenty of mead around, but he's going to need a secret ingredient - sharp-thistle plants which grow in the area. He asks me to collect some thorns so he can grind them and mix them in with the mead. The thistle-mead is ready soon enough, and moments after drinking it, the cat-mom rushes off to take down and eat a passing hendroval, demonstrating her recovery. Score!

Thrasi is pleased that the lynx has recovered, noting that thistle-mead is good for what ails you… if you're a cat, at least. He's a bit puzzled when the cat-mom meows at his feet, realizing that she actually seems to like him, and doesn't seem inclined to run away. He could use a hunting partner like her anyway, and the dub's taken a shine to him as well, now that he's fed it. He thanks me for all my help, and declares that in a few years the cub will be old enough to join him on the hunt with his mom. Hendrevail beware! Adorable.
 
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Does LOTRO still have the incredibly-gross-and-terrible-even-for-2007 problem where half the content - including all the inter-zone cinematics and big story bits - has no subtitles at all? It's what's made it unplayable for me every time I've tried.
 
Does LOTRO still have the incredibly-gross-and-terrible-even-for-2007 problem where half the content - including all the inter-zone cinematics and big story bits - has no subtitles at all? It's what's made it unplayable for me every time I've tried.

Do you mean the little intro cutscenes you occasionally get? I don't think they're subtitled, no - so far they haven't been terribly relevant either, just kind of rehashing what's happening with maybe a mention or two of what the Fellowship is up to. Since there's visuals, that part should be pretty obvious regardless of the spoken words, though. I don't see any sign that'll ever be fixed, but since the entire rest of the game is slabs and slabs of text everywhere, I imagine that should be pretty easy to tackle!

I'm afraid some gamedevs are always going to skimp on accessibility options because they apply to a narrow userbase... :(
 
I'm hardly an expert on either Quenya or Sindarian but this really doesn't seem like a proper title in either language. Though it's possible that it's just being used to English that makes me see Ring-west, just like how Teleporno gets read as Tele-porno instead of Telep-orno.

I figured I'd look into this, and I believe I know how it was constructed:

Dol (or dôl) can mean either head or hill - in this case, I think hill is the obvious one to go for, as in Dol Guldur, the Hill of Sorcery.
Ring can mean cold, as in the river Ringló, or the cold fenland.
West doesn't exist, but Hwest does, meaning puff, breath, or breeze. There's also gwest, a variant of gwaedh derived from the Noldorin word gwest, which means oath.

Putting it together, presuming that dropping the h is reasonable for language reasons (since I don't actually know the grammar) you could construct Dol Ringwest to mean 'Hill of the Cold Breeze' which works well enough. Hill of the Cold Oath also has a nice ominous feel, even if that's a bit more hypothetical.
 
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Ered Luin - Elf (Part 3) - Thrasi's Lodge, Haudh Lin, Gondamon

Epic Prologue - Elf (Part 3)

Deciding to follow up on Celairant's stolen bow malarkey, I head northeast and down a steep incline towards the heavily defended entrance to the dwarf-port of Kheledûl.



I don't actually have to go in, though, because I spot my quarry, Starkath, wandering around in the wild by himself - easy pickings. He's actually pretty evasive, but I manage to take him down and recover the bow from his remains.



As I deliver the weapon, Celairant is grateful, admitting that he doesn't have much to give me as a reward - he doesn't have much except his name, and that is precious to him. He could not have lived with the shame of dishonoring Penglir's princely gift - in fact, he feels he's not worthy of the bow, especially since he couldn't even hold onto it! He asks me to head back to Penglir in Duillond and explain why he can't accept the bow. Celairant calls himself a disappointment to his own folk, and to the honor of Penglir's gift, and I feel bad for the guy. Ouch, man…

I run back over to Duillond afterwards, dropping the scroll I received from Langlas off with Bregar. It turns out that it's actually a copy of the Lay of Nimrodel, a story mentioned in passing in the Lord of the Rings canon. Bregar is surprised Langlas saw parallels with his situation, while his own eyes remained blind to them. It's the story of Nimrodel and Amroth who loved her - a storm took Amroth's ship out to sea before Nimrodel could join him, as she was lost in the mountains to the south, and neither were seen again. He tactfully leaves out the part where Amroth intentionally drowns himself afterwards. Bregar figures Langlas has done him a great boon by sending this over, as the Lay of Nimrodel is a sad story which has bearing on his brotherly plight of being separated by crossing the sea. He asks me to bring the scroll to Toronn and have him read a particular passage, placing a mark next to a stanza. If that line doesn't make him understand, then the two are fated to part ways!

I visit Penglir, and he wonders if Celairant thought he was given that bow on a whim. He didn't idly give it to the first Man he ever met! Celairant bears the blood of the Rangers of the North, he explains, and a great hero is amongst his ancestors, a Man that Penglir was proud to call friend and companion.



Perhaps Celairant is young as men count the years, but all men are young by Penglir's count! In ages past he honored his fallen companion by placing a sword at his grave among the burial mounds of the Edain, and he guessed it might be that the sword can still be found in that place - it bears the motto Elvellon, or Elf-friend in the tongue of men. Perhaps if I go find that sword and hand it to Celairant with an explanation of his worth, I could convince young Celairant not to spurn the gifted bow…

I swing by Celondim next to resolve the brotherly conflict between Bregar, and Toronn. The latter asks whether his brother still endeavors to turn him away from his path. The elf's eyes widen as he reads the passage from the Lay of Nimrodel, though. 'And cursed the faithless ship that bore Him far from Nimrodel…' It's a sad tale, but it was ever one of Toronn's favorites. He begins to understand his brother's plight a little, and decides that Bregar might be right - there is still much to be done before the two of them leave... together. He decides he won't take his pain aboard the white Ships, only to bring it with him to the West. He thanks me for helping him grasp the way his brother feels about all this. Ah, a heartwearming resolution - brothers forever, and all that rot.

Having finished my business down south, I still don't feel like this impending war business is all that important, so I head northwards towards the location that Calengil gave to find his youngest brother, Glamír. Said elf is holed up in a ruined tower in Haudh Lin, northwards from the lodge.



He's glad to hear from his brother, but admits that they all sorely underestimated the depth of defilement of these once bountiful lands - even with my help, he's not sure we can do more than stem its growth, much less destroy it. Nevertheless he's grateful for the assistance, and tells me that once I've rested up, we can discuss steps to take in dealing with the sorrowful blight that abounds around here. Sounds pleasant!

Glamír explains that eastern Haudh Lin is home to some ancient burial mounds of the Edain, the Men who lived here in a past age - the first age, actually. Glamír has received reports of evil wights stalking those barrows and mounds. He describes these creatures as corpses animated by fell spirits, not really the revived forms of the men they once were - another point in my Skorgrím hypothesis scorecard! Glamír claims they're irredeemably evil, and it's his duty to exterminate them - and now mine as well. He also expounds about history, describing how in the years of Arnor's wars with Angmar, the Witch-King sent his fell spirits to stir the bones of the dead within the Edain mounds. He thought this foul sorcery had only been performed on the mounds of the Barrow-Downs over in Cardolan, but it seems that was wrong - wights stalk these lands as well! He asks me to head over there and lay the smackdown on these undead monsters and rid the land of their presence.

Sitting at the side of Glámir's ruined tower is Nithi the dwarf, who asks me if I can help with a small dispute. While he was away among the barrows in the north-east hunting for trinkets, he saw an old, bony wight wandering around the mounds. Fortunately it didn't notice him, but the sight still froze his blood. Now, his friend Galti doesn't believe him when he speaks of that encounter - he claims there are no barrow-wights among the old Edain mounds, even though he's never been further than the mounds near Gondamon, which aren't haunted at all. Nithi thinks I look strong enough to face a wight or two, so he asks me to collect a trophy from them to prove that Nithi wasn't seeing things. He'll pay for the service, of course! I figure since I'm heading over there anyway, I might as well make some extra dough.



Laergil, a nearby grocer who's supplying Glamír, tells me that the land has been sullied before by dwarves and their keep on the hill, and more recently by half-orcs and crebain. Now, wicked spiders have entered the land, slaughtering the wildlife and endangering travelers. The evil creatures have so far only been found in the furthest north-eastern reaches of Haudh Lin, but the land would still be better for their absence. She asks me to seek out these evil giant spiders and drive them from their lair so they won't plague the land any longer, and to collect some of their spinnerets so perhaps she can find out where they gained their fell potence. She says that they can be found in an area that was once known as Shipwright's Grove, where many famed vessels of the elves were built long ago - but now something evil and malignant lurks there instead.

Hearing this, Nithi returns to ask me whether I could do something else for him - see, another friend of his, Bersi, struck out on his own to a grove in the north-east to collect herbs for his remedies, and hasn't been seen since. Nithi warned him of the vicious spiders that moved into the area, but he laughed them off. Bersi's a good fellow and a fine cook, but he can be a bit addle-brained - by now Nithi's annoyance has turned to worry. If I could find out what happened to Bersi, I could put a poor dwarf's mind at ease. Surely the daft guy just lost track of time, but still…

I head out, slaying a brood of snow-spinner spiders the size of dogs which roam across the land even well away from their den in the far northeast of the region.



Eventually I turn northwards towards the imposing barrow-mounds on the hills there, spotting worms and wights aplenty.



Thankfully they die to arrows just like other things, and I slaughter my way close enough to find a distinctive elven sword laid out on a slab of rock there, battered and nicked but not rusted despite many years of exposure to the elements. On the side is engraved the word 'Elvellon.' That's what Penglir was talking about!



I explore a little deeper and find a decrepit keep tucked in against the mountainside which is filled with various wights - and some nice scholarly rewards. It's easy to get enough kills in here to complete Glámir's two rather redundant tasks.



Before heading to the spider lair, I run back to Thrasi's lodge for a moment to hand over that elven sword. Celairant is aghast at receiving another gift, before realizing this is something else instead. What is this, what's the significance of an old sword like this? I tell him that it's the blade of his ancestor, a friend and companion of Penglir, and he begins to understand. The bow was given to honor his great-grandfather! I apparently point out that's nonsense, that it was made for him specifically. Celairant isn't sure that's true, but goes along with it. He's not sure he's able to live up to those bygone glories of his forefather, but perhaps someday he'll be able to wield the bow without shame. I suppose that's about as good as we're going to get, here…

Setting off towards the north-east, the web-filled valley full of spiders is hard to miss.



I slay a bunch of the giant arachnids to collect spinnerets even as I open cocoons for some random loot and keep an eye out for anything else. Soon enough I spot a dwarf covered in webs and free him - he's Bersi, of course, who got trapped in the webs while gathering herbs. Not sure how he got this far in, but maybe the spiders dragged him over here?



He begs me to help him escape, and it's one short escort mission later that I lead him out of the infested valley with his skin intact and half a dozen cooling spider-corpses in my wake. All in a day's work!



With my tasks complete I head back to Glamír's tower, informing Laergil that I took care of a bunch of the spiders and gathered her spinnerets. She observes that it's strange these spiders are able to capture and slay prey as large as bears, so she'll begin her research into their abilities immediately. She can't promise anything will come from that, however. She's in my debt. I next describe my travels to the barrows to Glamír, slaying a whole bunch of the undead while there. He's pleased with what I've done, but laments that it seems his task shall remain unfulfilled unlike his brothers', since he knows of no way to permanently get rid of abominations like wights which now call Haudh Lin their home. Still, he thanks me for what I've done for the three brothers and rewards me as befits a warrior - with a pretty shitty cloak that's probably worse than the one I got from him for the other half of this quest.

I finally head over to Nithi, who is interested in the trophy I picked up off one of the wights - it's a skull! That's proof indeed! Nithi is about to give me a reward when he feels something is off - he asks me if I can feel it too. That skull, something's not right with it. That unnatural chill… Nithi decides he should not have sent me to that forsaken place, and he certainly won't be taking that skull to Gondamon with him. There are legends about these old bones, you see, as some say they are moved around by fell spirits from a distant Age. Some say the wights are restless dead, but even Nithi knows better than that. The will that stirs these bones does not belong in Middle-earth! Something should be done about these creatures, but what is beyond his ken - perhaps Glamír, brazen enough to keep vigil here, would know how to deal with this threat?

I walk back over to Glamír and show him the skull, and Glamír admits he's not sure what to make of it, beyond that foul creatures roam the hills, creatures who served the Witch-King of Angmar in older times. This bodes ill for Eriador and perhaps for all of Middle-earth, for eyes which should be turned south are turned north instead, and they might be blinded to the larger threat. As ever with evil, there's no doubt that a greater will drive the lesser amid the barrows, and it is this greater will which must be destroyed. He bids me to take a so-called Elf-stone and head back into the barrows, placing it upon the largest standing stone, a white one near a ruined building. That stone bears such virtue that it may cause the greater will to be drawn forth, allowing me to confront it with an arrow to the face.

Trekking back to the mounds, the merest glint of the green stone summons up the undead form of a Mound-Wight Master, who takes a couple more hits than you'd expect before ultimately crumpling. That wasn't too hard! I get back to the tower and Glamír is relieved, saying that foolish dwarves might have accidentally stumbled across something they could not hope to defeat if I hadn't intervened before the evil grew in strength. Still, those cursed lands on the hills will remain dark and haunted, but they're no longer an immediate threat with their controlling force banished.



With all else finished, I finally follow the road west towards the huge dwarven keep of Gondamon, looking out over the surrounding landscape with its massive walls and somewhat complicated entrance points. Fair amount of broken ankles here, though in LOTRO those only last half a minute or so. Free healthcare!



As I enter, I realize that this is where the elven and dwarven parts of the intro converge - some of the missions here are lower level than the ones I've just finished, and others are pushing me to leave the zone. For now, though, I'm gonna finish up the questlines here and complete the local part of the Epic Quest.

A dwarf named Áskell greets me and asks me to hear him out - his brother Gellir Goldentongue was a great warrior, is a great warrior - curse his blasted tongue! Áskell fears for his brother's life, for while he's a great fighter, he longs for peace. Even against the advice of the elders in Thorin's Hall he felt that there had to be a way to come to an understanding with the Dourhands, so he and some companions set out for the great Dourhand encampment north of Gondaman. He's pretty sure Gellir went to the westernmost of the camps, the largest. He did not return from that mission. Áskell asks me to seek him out, and if he is slain, to return with the news so they may seek revenge on his murderers. He tells me that his brother can be easily identified by his gleaming shield, an heirloom of the family.

Near the gates a trio of dwarves await me with tasks. Thankfully they're all minor fair - Dorri wants some wolf-pelts to make blankets and clothing for winter, Orlygr wants me to hunt down Dourhand brigands to the north, and Gafí says the hunt has been difficult recently, so he wouldn't say no to an extra supply of bear-meat from the wild specimens loose in the north. All these things are easy enough to check off, though in the future I won't be covering any of these narrativeless fetch-quests, as they're pretty meaningless and boring. None of the worldbuilding, all of the tedium!



Having finished everything else I decide to continue the main quest, spotting Gailthin, Dorongúr's emissary up on the battlements. I deliver his message to her, letting her know that Cardovar's son has been taken by dwarves, which shocks her. Grievous news, if it can be believed! Goblins are fell creatures that rely on treachery and deceit, but the dwarves have ever coveted the precious things of the elves. Capturing Avorthal might be the first step in some dwarf scheme to seize some of the relics they keep at Duillond and Celondim! She mutters that she thought the dwarves had put their envy of other people behind them, but if this is true, then they might still begrudge the elves for their relics and things of beauty.



She decides she'll try and learn more from the dwarves around here. Mathi Stouthand is the Lord of Gondamon, and he has spoken openly to her in the past, so she will judge his conversation to see whether he is hiding something. She warns me not to betray what I've learned to anyone but an elf - if the dwarves learn, they'll surely raise their guard. This she knows: there is an encampment of strange dwarves to the north of Gondamon. She suggests that I head over there and seek out Aglarchen, who went in search of Avorthal there and has yet to return. I should learn if the dwarves of the low lands have turned against the elves… and I should be cautious.

Following her suggestion I head northwards towards the Dourhand encampment, running into a bunch of the buggers on my way in. There I spot a Dourhand Chief who is laughing at a broken shield, declaring: 'You said you wanted peace, and we gave you peace. Rest in peace, ha ha ha!' Oh dear. I quickly take him out, retrieving a sundered gleaming shield, the remains of Gellir's equipment.



I travel back, figuring Aglarchen can wait for some other day, and revisit Áskell who admits that he already feared his brother had perished, and this shield is mute testimony to the treachery of the Dourhands. He tells me I've done him a great service, ill though my news happens to be. These foul Dourhands, how dare they? Gellir came in peace, but they cut him down like a goblin! Áskell swears he will have revenge, but he knows that the elders watch him closely, all too aware of his temper. He can't go fight the Dourhands himself, but as for me…

You see, a while back an elf came to Gondamon looking for information about the Dourhands, as he thought they might be up to something terrible. He said his name was Glamír, you know? (You don't say.) Áskell asks me to look the guy up and asks what he knows about the whereabouts of Skíthi Blackhand, leader of the Dourhands in the fortified eastern camp. Gellir must have been slain at his orders, for sure! He asks me to search Skíthi out and take his head in vengeance! One quick trip back to the tower confirms that Glamír knows about Skíthi alright - he's seen him just beyond the main gates of the Dourhand encampment to the north. Still, he instructs me to be cautious, as the going won't be easy once I'm within the walls of that encampment.
 
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Ered Luin - Elf (Part 4) - Gondamon, Thrasi's Lodge, Rath Teraig

Epic Prologue - Elf (Part 4)

My trip there is actually pretty uneventful - there's a couple Dourhands around, but since I'm now a bit over-leveled for the area due to finishing up all the elven content, they go down like chumps.



I aim for Skíthi, who is right there in the front section of the camp, and it only takes a few arrows to finish him off. The rest of it is blocked by that most dire of unassailable enemies - a rickety wooden gate. Curses!



I quickly head back to town, informing Áskell that his brother has been avenged. The dwarf's happy, but he feels strange - he feels no pleasure at hearing the news. The Dourhands will just pick a new captain and keep going as if nothing ever happened, and nothing will change. There must be more that can be done, something that will truly hurt them?



Thinking things over, Áskell points out that while the Longbeards were able to throw the Dourhands out of most of their steadings after they revealed their evil two years ago, they're still too strong to fight in the field. The last major Dourhand holding in Ered Luin is the river port of Kheledûl to the far east, and there much of their remaining strength is concentrated. It's also where they stockpile their stolen wealth and the treasures they robbed during the long years of their tyranny in Thorin's Halls. Áskell figures I've proven myself as a capable warrior and true friend, so if I could raid Kheledûl and recover the stolen treasures, I won't just be striking a blow for Durin's Folk, I'll also deal a sharp blow in Gellir's name as well!

Áskell then pauses, admitting that while his brother was avenged, he might have spoken too plainly to a younger dwarf in his sorrow, and he fears that this dwarf might have gone off to risk his own life. That dwarf, Sigurdór, went towards Kheledûl to avenge his brother, but is likely at the tower on the outskirts of the port with the deposed dockmaster, Svarnr. He tells me I should follow the road east beyond Thrasi's lodge until I reach the shore, and keep an eye out for the boy.

I head east out of town, back toward Thrasi's lodge, and keep going in the direction where I originally killed Starkath. Part of the way there I spot the tower that Áskell mentioned, and both Sigurdór and Svanr are there. (Either Svarn or Svarnr is a misspelling - I'm not sure which.)



I speak to Sigurdór who lays slumped against the wall, and he agrees that Áskell told him not to go, but he ignored that warning. His brother Arndór wasn't much older than himself, he explains, and he fell along with Gellir. He tried to avenge his brother, but failed, as the Dourhands are too rooted within that port for one dwarf, more miner than warrior, to dislodge them. He looks me over, and muses that I, perhaps, could make a fair swing at it…

Sigurdór explains that he did attempt to fight his way through the port in search of the leader, but to no avail. His cowardice kept him well hidden and his lackeys gave the kid a good beating. Were it not for Svanr, he likely would have fallen to them as well. He failed to avenge Arndór, and he's not fit for another foray, but I've helped Áskell before, so I might be up for helping this kid as well. He puts on the puppy-dog eyes, and I just can't say no to that. These guys are so tiny! After a quick trip down to murder some Dourhands and steal some treasure which they just left lying around, I make my way back.



Sigurdór gives me his heartfelt thanks - Arndór might not know what has been done, but he does, and it will give him leave to rest at night. He'll sleep soundly knowing that the Dourhands are weakened to the point that the Longbeards might yet, finally drive them off their lands.

I trek back to Gondamon and deliver the treasures to Áskell, who compliments me on my work and tells me that his brother would surely be satisfied with this blood price! He'll send the treasures over to Thorin's Halls, and perhaps they can be used to defeat the Dourhands once and for all!

Deciding that the epic story has waited long enough I head back to where I originally found the sundered shield - I only needed to walk around a corner to run into Aglarchen, who's hiding in the bushes and warns me not to make a scene, or he might alert 'them' to his presence. The elf explains that his friend Avorthal was taken by goblins, and he followed them to this encampment of dwarves - they're holding him high up in the cliffs that divide the low-lands from western Haudh Lin, and while Aglarchen tried to free him, there were too many enemies to deal with. The dwarves chased him out and pursued him here. Unfortunately my blundering into the scene tipped them off to his hiding spot, and half a dozen of the buggers come pouring out to fight!



After several waves of combat, Aglarchen exclaims that he can make it out of there on his own now, and runs off, telling me not to forget what he told me. Sure, uh, bye? I head back to town to catch up with the emissary of the elves, who is appalled to learn that Avorthal is being held in a dwarven encampment after all. She compliments me for my diligent work - uhuh - but worries that this revelation confirms the fears of Master Dorongúr. The dwarves are behind the capture of Avorthal! Gailthin explains that Mathi Stouthand, Lord of Gondamon, looked her in the eye that very morning and told her that the dwarves were proud to have the elves of Duillond as neighbors.

Such dishonesty, right to her face? She thought he was truer than that, but she should have known better. No dwarf can be trusted, she declares, not when you have works of art or history that they desire to possess! She demands I go to Mathi and demand that he order his dwarves to release Avorthal, as she doesn't trust herself to speak to him without striking him for his dishonesty. Mathi can be found on the upper levels of Gondamon, she says, before ominously declaring that I should make haste, for we might need to muster Duillond for war…

While I am pretty sure half of these elves are just being incredibly racist, rather than coherently thinking things through, I visit Mathi anyway to hear what he has to say. The dwarf tells me to hold my accusations, as his people are not responsible for the missing prince, and he's offended both by my accusations and my tone.



When I let him know that Avorthal is being held in the encampment to the north, Mathi says that actually explains a great deal. You see, he's a member of the Longbeards, an honorable family descended from Durin, the first Father of the Dwarves. The dwarf-camp to the north has been a constant annoyance to him and his folk, since it was established by Dourhands, a thoroughly unwholesome family who trace their ancestry to the evil Skorgrím Dourhand. (You don't say?) Dwarven may have taken Avorthal, but not his dwarves. The Dourhands are to blame, and they are as much a thorn in Mathi's side as they are in mine.

Mathi complains that elves wouldn't understand the difference between Durin's Folk and Dourhands. If he sent people to attempt to rescue the elf-prince and fail, they might assume that they and the Dourhands are in league, and then what? War between dwarves and elves? That can't be allowed to happen. What's needed is for someone trusted by both elves and dwarves alike to make this attempt. There's a man, a Ranger out in the wilds, who has assisted both races on many occasions, a master in stealth and hunting. I'm instructed to seek out the Ranger Langlas at the hunter's lodge to the east, and hope he'll accept this responsibility.

I head back to the east again to speak to Langlas, who complains that having elves and dwarves living as neighbors is worse than keeping a lynx and a wolf pup in the same house - no offense.



In the interest of maintaining peace, he'll respect Mathi's wishes and arrange for the rescue of Avorthal. He doesn't want to bear the burden of the rescue ending in failure, but a Ranger doesn't have the luxury of refusing charges like this one. If he were to refuse, Avorthal's life would be forfeit and the same would go for peace in Ered Luin. He'll organize the attempt… if I agree to help. That's… why I'm here.

Langlas notes that rumors of Avorthal's capture have reached him, and they suggest that Mathi's concerns have merit. The elves of Duillond remember the treachery of Skorgrím ago, and do not easily recognize the difference between different dwarf clans. The short reign of Thrain and his son Thorin in Ered Luin was marked by a grudging peace only because they kept to themselves and didn't trouble the elves. Talking himself into it, Langlas promises he'll join me in rescuing Avorthal to avert a war in these darkening times, for strife between enemies of Mordor can only aid the Dark Lord. The rescue won't be easy, so he tells me to prepare myself, and return when I'm ready to depart for the Dourhand camp.


Instance: To Avert a War

"The Ranger Langlas prepares to mount an effort to rescue the Elf-prince Avorthal from the clutches of the treacherous Dourhands…"

Langlas and I make our way to the eastern of the two Dourhand encampments near Gondamon, the more protected one where I took out Skíthi before. He stops near the base of the multi-tiered camp, warning me that we should proceed without delay, for together we may defeat the Dourhands. Well, you're the one stopping, my man!



We take out the guards at the front gate when Langlas tells me to hang back, since he thought he heard something… I already moved ahead, however, and suddenly feel the full brunt of a Dourhand raiding party, complete with pet hendrevail. It actually takes a tiny bit of work to deal with the ambush, but I whittle them down, and Langlas ineffectually swipes at some of them from the rear.



Despite insisting we need to make haste, the Ranger immediately heads for the nearby campfire that the Dourhands were resting at and sits down to have a breather. We've barely even started, dude. After moving on a little further and fighting a bunch more dwarves, he warns me that the fighting here must have alerted others deeper in the camp, so the fighting will be worse up ahead. You don't say! You really just wanted another rest, right?



We set off again, and I take a more measured approach sniping archers and commanders from afar to get rid of them before they even approach. That works, and we soon get to a closed gate, which Langlas warns is the way to move even deeper into the camp. He wants to hold and rest here - of course he does - since he senses we're nearing the end of our pursuit, and we'll need all the strength we can muster for the coming battle.



Langlas is appreciative of my presence here in this 'long and dangerous' trek, which makes sense since I've been carrying this whole encounter. He tells me it's time to end this, and opens the gate. We rush in and find one of Skorgrím's lieutenants there, Hakon Ironfist.



He's standing in front of what is pretty unambiguously a shrine to Sauron - just getting close to it fills me with dread. Literally - it's a game mechanic in LOTRO where getting close to terrifying, corrupt beings gives you a substantial debuff, and there's various ways to mitigate this effect to fight despite it. Right now it's only a minor effect, more for flavor than to have any real impact on this fight.



Langlas demands that Hakon give up Avorthal or face consequences, but the Dourhand just calls him a fool - did he really think they'd keep him here? Avorthal was already taken to Kheledûl, their stronghold in these parts, and he will die there - and we will die too. All their foes shall die! Skorgrím will reward him greatly when he brings him our heads! The battle afterwards is rather a disappointment with all that buildup - he's just another slightly beefy guy, and he goes down quickly enough that when he starts trying to summon some adds in the middle of combat, I manage to empty his health pool before he can even manage that. I imagine it would have been some hendrevail to harass us? Wouldn't have mattered.

With Hakon dead, we're left with the realization that Avorthal isn't here, which is an issue. Langlas calls this all a waste of time and blood, neither of which we can afford, so we should head back to the lodge and discuss what to do next. Hurry up! Okay, now you're hasty, when before you had all the time in the world? I see how it is, Mr. Ranger of the North.



Back at Thrasi's lodge, Langlas admits that the news of the Dourhands being a step ahead of us is distressing. Still, there's nothing we can do except follow their trail to Kheledûl. It's the center of Dourhand power, the last remaining town in Ered Luin which they control, so conflict will be hard to avoid there. He tells me there can be no day - we have to rescue Avorthal from the port before they are able to load him on a ship and set sail! The ship they will use to carry him is probably already docked there, defended by a score of Dourhands, in a position of great strength. Direct attacks are likely to fail - if we're to have any hope of rescuing the lost prince, we'll need the help of one who knows the city. Langlas is aware that there's a Longbeard called Svanr, the former harbormaster of the port, who made it out before the city was captured. We'll have to speak to him for information.

I remember Svanr - he's hiding out with Sigurdór a stone's throw away from the port's entrance. Svanr is happy to see me and tells me that if I need to get inside Kheledûl, he's the dwarf I need. Dourhands have let his fine harbor sink into filth and disrepair, so any foe of theirs is a friend of his!



He tells me that a ship came from the north and has been sitting at anchor for a few days. From what he could gather it's named the Irestone, and her captain is a particularly unpleasant-looking Dourhand. If he's really planning on taking an abducted elf back north on his ship, I'll have to hurry - he overhead guards mention that the ship wouldn't remain here for much longer. During the day I'd be too visible, but he figured that sneaking in at night would be possible even for someone who's not a burglar by trade, though I'd have to stay clear of any of the night-watch or they'll raise the alarm. I tell him I'm ready to give it a try, and we set off…


Instance: Rescue by Moonlight

"Avorthal had been moved from the Dourhand encampment to a ship preparing to depart for an unknown port in the North. His rescue is paramount to maintaining peace in Ered Luin...."

As night falls, I scout closer to the gates of Kheledûl, finding one of the guards dozing, which allows me to mosey on by without him even noticing. Once inside, it'd be a bit more difficult - the place is large and spread out, and there's various guards wandering around looking for trouble. I'm sure this would be a huge hassle, if not for the fact that the range of my bow exceeds their ability to detect me, and I can set up the most damaging one-shot attack I have to just get rid of them without a fight, preventing them from ever raising any alarm. It's insultingly easy to just pick them off, and I make my way around the side of the camp towards the piers, where the Irestone is docked.

Finding the Irestone isn't too difficult, and I find an elf tied up on the deck - it's the missing Avorthal!



He's surprised to see that someone's come to free him even in the middle of the enemy camp, and tells me that Skorgrím Dourhand has returned, and has raised a goblin army in the cleft of Rath Teraig. Unless we stop him, he'll sweep them through all the free lands! He tells me that there's no time to waste - the two of us will have to defeat the Captain of the ship and his crew if we're to escape from Kheledûl with our lives and bring word of the danger within Rath Teraig to the authorities. He begs me to quickly untie his hands before the Captain returns from his rounds and spots me here.

No sooner do I untangle the rope around his arms that a door slams open and a foul-tempered Dourhand named Captain Volund strides out to tell Avorthal that we're about to set sail. Yea, about that? Volund is quick on the uptake and attacks the intruder, declaring that I'm too late before summoning the rest of his crew of 'thin-beards' to join him in the attack.



As I take them out one by one, some of them lament that the sea calls them home as they fall - poetic. Volund becomes desperate too and tells his allies to throw us off the ship, but they can't manage it before he finally goes down an arrow in his heart, declaring with his final words that at least he fell on the deck of his beloved ship. These dwarves are poetic in their demise!

As the last of the foes falls, Avorthal cheers for a moment before telling me that with an army of goblins assembled to take down the region, we have much to worry about - though at least his rescue should end the threat of war between the dwarves and elves. We should bring this warning out of Kheledûl and into the light of morning, and hopefully our chances of peace shall shine just as bright!



With Avorthal safe, I make my way back to Thrasi's lodge to let Langlas know what I accomplished, and he's glad that the promise of peace is closer than it was, though Ered Luin is not free from the threat of war yet. Skorgrím and his Dourhand menace will need to be ended, and quickly, before he can put a second stage of his plans into motion… He promises he'll send word to Mathi Stouthand and Gailthin in Gondamon of Avorthal's safe return and to warn their respective masters - the Free People of Ered Luin must unite if they are to drive Skorgrím and his goblin allies from this land once and for all.

While Dwalin and Dorongûr assemble their forces, Langlas has an urgent task for me - since the goblins have mustered in Rath Teraig, if we are to have any hope of reaching Skorgrím himself, we'll have to find a way to thin their forces. I am to journey to the outskirts of Rath Teraig, a valley south of Gondamon, and speak with a dwarf there, Ingólfr. He'll have more instructions for me. I head southwards along a broad road and soon come across a wall and various defensive emplacements which cut the valley of Rath Teraig off from the rest of the region, though I figure the goblins could probably just scale the hills and circumvent the ballistas. Ah, well.



I speak to Ingólfr as requested, and he tells me Langless is a queer fellow - I don't judge - but he's a finale man for sending him some aid. If Langlas thinks I'm capable, Ingólfr sees no reason to keep me from my task. He tells me that I'll find all sorts of foul goblins beyond the barricade, so I should try and avoid the truly dangerous ones for now and be careful not to travel too deeply into the valley, as fearsome goblins hold sway beyond the great peak at the area's heart. He also tells me that he's not sure what made all these goblins bubble up from the ground like bees from a kicked hive, but something's got them riled up - and he suspects it might be a local goblin leader, Gazrîp. If I'm up to it, I should search him out and shatter enemy morale by taking out their leader. Hopefully the dwarves can then pen them in until winter, at which point the snows should block the passage until spring.

While a couple other dwarves ask me to hunt down various pests inside Rath Teraig - spiders and cave-claws - I focus on the goblins, killing equal numbers of melee combatants and archers. The warning not to wander too deeply into the area is likely related to a so-called 'Fellowship' area, basically a somewhat tougher section of the map which is intended for a small group to tackle. Parties are called Fellowships here, because of course they are! I clean out the area, soon running into Gazrîp while on the hunt for scholarly resources in an abandoned corner. He goes down pretty easily, though the sheer number of goblins here would probably have made this quest more difficult if I'd tackled it immediately instead of doing other content first.



I return to tell Ingólfr of my deeds, and he agrees that there's nothing like a rousing tale of goblin-slaying to warm you up on a cold day. I know his favorite anime, I'm sure… He figures I've done what I can to help the dwarves hold the pass, and now it's up to the authorities to figure out what will be done come spring. I report to Langlas, who compliments me - and once the dwarves and elves have arrayed their forces, he assures me that an assault on Rath Teraig will begin...
 
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Ered Luin - Elf (Part 5) - Rath Teraig, Noglond, Thorin's Halls

Epic Prologue - Elf (Part 5)

Through the magic of a single dialogue box, Langlas has received news - Dwalin has sent a host of Longbeards marching towards Rath Teraig, while Dorongúr Whitethorn dispatched many elf-warriors of his own. Skorgrím may have sought to divide the peoples of Ered Luin, but his actions have only strengthened their resolve to stand together against him! Langlas swears that Skorgrím shall die in Rath Teraig, and he tells me that while the elves and dwarves draw away the greater part of the goblin army, I should enter behind enemy lines and join up with Avorthal there. The time for the combined assault on the cleft of Rath Teraig is here!


Instance: Assault on Rath Teraig

"The combined forces of Lord Dwalin of Thorin's Hall and Dorongúr Whitethorn of Duillond prepare to march upon the goblin-army at Rath Teraig...."

I meet up with Avorthal some distance behind the lines of Rath Teraig, and he tells me he's ready to fight - we'll find Skorgrím Dourhand and drive the fell creature not just from this cleft, but from Ered Luin itself! I follow him inside, only to discover another familiar face there - his old pal Athal is pleased to see Avorthal and cries out that he thought the elf was leaving all the goblins for him alone. Avorthal laughs and tells him that this is not true at all - but for now he should look to his axe, as we're about to be met by some new friends. Athal just tells him they'll have many tales to tell when this is over…



After taking out a bunch of goblin troops, I make my way up the slope to find Gailthin and some other elves holed up near a gateway, along with a couple dwarves. Gailthin warns that the goblins are preparing for a fresh attack, warning everyone to be ready, and Avorthal shouts his support while one of the elves wonders where the main force of the goblins is hiding out. That's when a dwarf rushes in and informs us that Mathi Stouthand is under assault, and he needs our help. Avorthal tell him to lead the way, and we quickly pass Gailthin by to find the dwarven leader.



We soon find Mathi, who warns us that the goblins are regrouping, so we should hold them off while he calls out their positions. He literally goes to stand on a big rock at the center of the clearing and points in various directions moments before the goblins rush out of the underbrush, which is pretty neat.



Avorthal suddenly asks if I smell something, which is the only warning I get that a bunch of goblin sappers have shown up with explosives which they like to use suicidally. Hanging out inside a fire for too long is hardly good for my perfect skin! As we finish off this band of goblins, Mathi surmises that the day is not yet done as there are more goblins ahead, but we could all probably use a breather. See, Langlas, this is how you do that properly!

After a brief rest Avorthal tells me that he's ready to move on, and to hunt down Skorgrím. Suddenly he pauses, sensing that something's not right here. Spears rain down and take out half our supporting NPC crew in one volley, and there's a sudden panic in camp as Avorthal warns of a troop of goblins gathered on the cliff above. He tells me to follow, and he takes me along a circuitous route which ends up leading upwards, with Mathi urging us to take out the spearmen as quickly as possible.



As we take out the ambushers, however, an elf runs down from further in and warns us that the goblins have captured a woman. He tells us that Avorthal's father Cardavor led some elves and dwarves to rescue this Sara Oakheart, but they haven't returned. Avorthal declares that his father is strong, so he does not fear for him, and we can probably rest before moving on. See, now you're doing the Langlas thing again!

After a short breather, Avorthal tells me that we should follow up on this Sara Oakheart business, and when she's safe we can continue trying to hunt down Skorgrím. Perhaps we'll even find Cardavor up ahead so we can lend our aid, though he's sure his dad would have no need of that. After passing through a couple well-defended gates, we soon spot the kidnapped woman in the goblins' clutches and free her, which is a bit anticlimactic - but trust me, we'll eventually get back to her and her own deal. She has a habit of popping up in weird places, and I remember enough of my previous playthrough to know it leads somewhere…



We move on and soon discover Cardavor lying on the ground in the middle of the road, which seems suspicious. Sure enough, as we approach he goes full Admiral Ackbar and shouts that it's a trap, and a host of goblins encircle us. Someone else is there too, though, and his very presence is dreadful - Skorgrím Dourhand enters the scene, declaring that while this whole assault has been an amusing exercise, it's now over. Ered Luin has been weakened, and that's enough. He has business now in Bree-land, as war is coming that will soon burn Middle-Earth to the ground. Avorthal declares that the dwarves and elves stand against him, so he's surely defeated now! Skorgrím just tells the goblins to kill us before exiting stage left.



After taking out the assassination squad in several waves, Avorthal checks up on his wounded father, to see how badly hurt he is. Cardavor tells him not to worry - he's alright. He should instead fear for the lands of the south, for Skorgrím can't have anything good in store for them… Avorthal turns to me and muses that while Skorgrím has escaped, Ered Luin is probably safe from his predations for a time. In that, it seems the combined assault was successful. It'll be a long while before we know the true cost of our actions here, though, as many good people have fallen today. Avorthal intends to tend to his father's wounds before we leave to speak to Langlas together and tell him what happened.



Langlas is morose as he comments that many good dwarves and elves perished at Rath Teraig, and though Skorgrím was not defeated, at least he has fled the area and his threat around here has abated. He's worried about the south, though - if the evil dwarf was able to cause so much harm in Ered Luin, he can only imagine how much havoc he could cause in Bree-land or the Lone-lands. We haven't seen the last of Skorgrím Dourhand! He decides it's time to send word to his captain, for he will surely know what to do. He asks me to be the messenger boy, as I'm surely already heading out there to chase my quarry.

Langlas explains that his captain is a Ranger they call Strider, and he must be notified of the threat of Skorgrím. It's really a shame I can't stay to enjoy my victory, huh? (Grumble, grumble.) He tells me to travel far to the east to Bree-town, and seek out a tavernkeeper named Barliman Butterbur at the Prancing Pony, where Strider has lodged in the past. If Strider is there, Barliman can help me find him, and if not, I could bed there for the night and continue my search in the morning. He warns me it's a long journey, but I shouldn't tarry - Skorgrím is on the march!



I head back to Gondamon as my local hub for the moment, and catch up with Áskell, who commends me for my good deeds, but urges me to consider the whole wide world out there - there's so much to explore! And if I want to start anywhere, Bree-town is as good as any place to do so, you know? He tells me to head east until the Blue Mountains are far behind me. It's a long journey, so he suggests I pack plenty of supplies, but he's sure the Shire-folk will be happy to offer assistance along the way. When I finally arrive in Bree, he tells me I should seek out Mayor Graeme Tenderlarch. If there's work to be found, he'll know where to find it! Well, this is fortuitous timing, huh?

While here, I also catch up with a Hunter trainer who hangs out on the battlements, and she tells me that while my aim is true an my eyes sharp, my pretty is still weak. I'm not yet skilled enough to hold my own against the foes I'll need to face in the future. She knows someone who might be able to guide me, though - Gytha Lainey is a hunter of no small skill, and though she has little patience for the undeserving, she might consider me worthy of instruction. She tells me to look up Gytha at Adso's Camp on the Great East Road, somewhere between Bree and Buckland. I actually receive a letter in the mail from another trainer, a hobbit named Flambard Took, who tells me to swing by Bree to discuss a matter of importance, as he has an important lesson to impart. Sheesh, okay, I get which direction I'm supposed to head now!

Instead of following all the blinking lights, I figured I might as well have a look around the dwarven side of the map while I'm here. The Vale of Thráin is nice and wintery.



I make my way to Noglond, the dwarven equivalent of Duillond on the elven side. Besides some hunting tasks for culling bears, hendrevail and lynxes, I also get a task from Grímkell Stonebearer - I've hopelessly outleveled this one, obviously - who asks me to find Vífill, who was sent out to cut some firewood but hasn't come back. He tells me to follow the road west to find the clearing where the local dwarves get their wood, though he tells me to be wary in case whatever delayed Vífill is still there.

After admiring a bunch of cute black-footed foxes along the way, some harmless environmental critters, I reach Vífill sitting at a campfire by the side of the road. He admits he did wonder if Grímkell would eventually send someone for him. He explains that he was in the clearing cutting word when goblins fell from the shadows of the trees and attacked him. He managed to kill two and wound the last, which was enough to drive them off, but he was wounded in the fight and the surviving goblin ran off to the south. He asks me to tell Grímkell what happened and to send help.



I return to Grímkell, who doubts Vífill's story, surmising he must have made up the story after accidentally hitting himself with his own axe. When I point out he might have been telling the truth, he's skeptical but tells me I should go and find those goblins then. See, the goblins of the Blue Mountains sometimes carry around these little things, fetishes. He asks me to bring one of their fetishes to him, and then maybe he'll buy the tall tale. (Did this guy not hear about Rath Teraig the other day? Whole horde of goblins, people died? People don't pay attention these days.)

After I easily find a goblin and retrieve its fetish - really, feet? How predictable - Grímkell admits he was wrong and takes a guess at what's going on. There are some sprawling ruins just south-west of Noglond, you see, and the goblins must have occupied them. He's hesitant to send a message up to Thorin's Hall or Gondamon, as he'd feel like Vífill must have - they'd laugh and leave it be. He asks me if I and some friends might be able to take care of the problem? We could raid the camp and defeat their chieftain to end the threat. At least he wouldn't have to ask for help from elsewhere!

The goblin-camp is actually the most well-protected I've seen so far, though my higher level makes it a cakewalk anyway. It's intended as a group encounter for a couple party members, which explains the increased amount of enemies here, but I'm too powerful for it to matter. I mow my way through Blue-Crag goblins and follow the long path around until I take out a couple Dourhands alongside the goblins, as well as the Chieftain who hangs out at the very furthest end of the road, on a terrace overlooking the entire cliffside. He goes down like a chump, and I loot his surroundings of various scholarly goods.



Grímkell is pleased with my work, apologizing for ever doubting Vífill. Who would have known that goblins would actually dare to enter the Vale of Thráin, though? (Really, my man, read the news.) He asks me to take the goblin fetish I found to Bolli, Captain of the Guard at Gondamon - he must know of the goblin incursion! Yea, I think he's got it covered. I set out again and head further north, towards Thorin's Halls. It's the third time I'm there, actually, since this is the same area that I explored back in the introduction, just changed somewhat by two years of time and the ousting of the Dourhands.

At Frerin's Court I find Halli Shimmershield, who is too busy to take care of all the things he needs to do, and sees me as an easy mark to load some work off on. He's not wrong! He explains that he has to get his brother's armor polished. The guy could do it himself, of course, but Halli admits that his brother Kalli does not share the family's sense of duty. He'll never earn his commander's respect by being late all the time, skipping out on his duties, and always wearing his old and worn armor under a filthy uniform. Perhaps I could take the armor to Brúni Stonehelm in Thorin's Hall and have him polish it?

Also at the court I find Tindr - I'm sure he's got a vibrant life in the sheets. He's the Master Builder at Thorin's Hall, responsible for the great canal which supplies the water, but apparently it's recently fissured and he's trying to deal with that. The crack has not yet become a serious threat, but it's only a matter of time, and he doesn't have any builders available to assist with the repairs. They probably all went and died at Rath Teraig, didn't they? Naturally Tindr asks me to help seal the fissure. To do so, I'm told to head into the Mirkstone Tunnels to get some gypsum and stone - this would be the location where I originally met Elrohir - and to swing by the Rockbelly Pit to gather the right type of sand needed for the mortar.



Ormr, the last of the dwarves at Frerin's Court, tells me he could use my help too - he's got a problem. Nothing big, mind you, but difficult to handle for an old dwarf. You see, it's about his son, Gísli. He's a good fellow, but he's young and doesn't have life experience, and he's just received his first post down at Noglond. Ormr really wants to send his son his favorite meal so he knows his pops is thinking about him, but he doesn't have the main ingredient - cave-claw legs! I'm asked to gather a batch so he can cook them into a stew for his son. I can find plenty of them in the Silver Deep Mine, of course.

After revisiting the various cave locations from the introduction to kill some mobs and gather loose items on the floor, I turn the cave-claw legs in with Ormr, who quickly finishes the stew and hands it over to me, asking me to take it to Gísli at his new post in Noglond. Sure, I'll get to that - eventually. Hope it tastes good cold! I deliver the stones, sand and gypsum to Tindr who prepares mortar for me, using a few tricks of the trade to speed up the production. He tells me to take the mortar to the fissures in the canal walls in the Hall of Merchants inside Thorin's Hall - I'll get right to it!

Thorin's Hall is pretty epic - there's a neat dwarven greenhouse where the food is grown:



The doors are huge and shiny:



And when you enter there's an enormous statue of a dwarf wielding a hammer that's lit up by a single shaft of sunlight that emanates from above the entrance. Looks properly regal for a local dwarf-lord to rule from, I'd say. It's almost a bit too large, as you spend a fair amount of time just getting to places across the sprawling floors.



In the entrance hall I find Bávor, who asks me if I could lend him a hand - you see, he's bene trying to repair a device embedded in the wall next to him, which opens an old Vault of the Mountain. Some key pieces have been lost, though, ancient gears which were removed and scattered long ago to prevent the Dourhands from getting their grubby hands on the treasure inside. Now that they've been ousted, it's time to open the vault again - but first the device must be repaired. Old Sindri Winchmaster, the artificer who made it, had skill far beyond Bávor's own, so he'll need the actual pieces that were lost to have any hope of getting it to work again.



Bávor muses that the first missing gear was hidden somewhere in an old cave in the Winterheight, southeast from Thorin's Hall. It's the Rockbelly Pit, isn't it? Again. Sure enough, a chest has spawned near the bottom which contains the first gear. Not to belabor the point, but this quest is annoying - I'm sent out to various places all across Ered Luin to fetch various gears, including heading back to the goblin-infested ruins in the Vale of Thráin, the old barrows in Haud Lin, the port of Kheledûl, and finally the spider lair north of there. Since I have to head back to Thorin's Hall every time before getting the next quest, it gets really annoying real fast. Thank god for horses to give me taxi-rides to Gondamon and back…

With all the gears assembled, Bávor sets about reconstructing the locking mechanism with quite a bit of trouble - you can follow his process every time you return with a gear, and he acts confused half the time. Finally, though, he gets it working, and he tells me that he'll stay here to tend to the machine, while I should open the vault. It's actually a fair distance away, on the other side of Thorin's Hall up a flight of stairs. There's cables and chains which run through the walls - a real work of art! He tells me to be sure to get the order of the levers right to unlock it, since he'll need to reset the mechanism if I do it incorrectly. Basically, failure means running back to the entrance hall for a reset, more annoying than problematic.

The various gears actually have clues etched into them, and it's these that give me the information I need to unlock the vault:

The axe bites deep before the first light of the sun.
The sun rises after the moon has set.
A jewel may be found in the light of the sun.
Jewels are only found after much hard work.
Before all else, the silvery light of the moon can be seen.

It's a riddle!



The solution's not too difficult. Obviously the Moon is first, and I parse the line about jewels to indicate it happens last - after all the rest of the work has been done. The axe has to come before the sun, though, so that leaves only one combination that's viable - Moon, Axe, Sun, Jewel. I head over and enter the correct combination on a set of four levers, and with a series of clicks the vault is successfully unlocked. So, what was in there? I find a large and crude black rock inside… and nothing else.

I make my way to Bávor again, sho says that he hopes the vault didn't turn out to be empty. I take out the rock, only for Bávor to stare incredulously at it before declaring that it's fantastic, incredible, amazing! Oh, he knows it doesn't look like much, but the story goes that the rock I'm holding - the Crown of the Mountain - was the first that Durin himself hewed from Gundabad, the mountain where he first awoke. It's the first chunk of ore ever mined by the father of his line, the most ancient artifact of the dwarves, serving as a symbol of their heritage. I've unearthed a true treasure with all my hard work - and I deserve gratitude from all dwarves. Sweet!

I visit the merchant hall to deliver Halli's tarnished armor to Brúni Stonehelm, who complains that he doesn't have the time to polish that same set of armor again - he's too busy! He was supposed to be off to Noglond already to pick up the damaged armor of the guards there, so he doesn't have time to clean up Halli's set. I'll just have to leave it with him, and he'll see that it gets done before next week. Unless I can go down to Noglond and retrieve those armors for him, of course. He strikes a hard bargain!



After quickly patching up the canal wall inside Thorin's Hall with the mortar I head back to Tindr, who thanks me for the assistance - hopefully this will also fix the problem with the water supply down at Noglond. You see, he's gotten complaints from there that the canal hasn't been flowing the way it should, and the repair of the leak might have helped with that. He asks me to head down to Noglond and check in with Geitir about the problem, though, as he could tell me whether things are fine now.

I head back down to Noglond, where Geitir greets me with a knowing look, since this isn't the first time Brúni's got other people to do his errands for him. He hands over a set of armor for repairs, telling me I should speak with Oláfr too, since his armor was torn up pretty badly in a scuffle with some goblins. (Hey, couldn't you have told Grímkell that and gotten him off my case?) Oláfr tells me that Brúni's been putting off his errands for a while - as usual he put it off. His armor's got a dent in it that's a hand and a half long - that goblin would have cut him shoulder to belly if not for that hunk of metal!



I ask after the waterflow, and Geitir says that whatever I did didn't fix the problem - the flow is a trickle when it should be a torrent! It's been this way for days now, and he hasn't heard back from the builders of Thorin's Hall after he sent them a message. He's not about to send one of his boys to do a builder's work, but he doesn't want to traipse to the river to get water either every time they need it. He asks me to look into it, to see what's happening up-river to cause the issue.

I visit Gísli with the cave-claw stew, only to discover that this is the third meal his father has sent Gísli in as many days. When will his dad realize he's now a grown dwarf, and not a child to be coddled and fretted over? Ah, but he says I'm not to blame for this - and he thanks me for the food. Maybe someday his father will realize that he's no longer the thin-bearded dwarf of sixty that he remembers!



I head to the river and soon discover a blockage - various thickets are clogging up the canal and preventing most of the water from flowing through. I clear them away with a bit of manual labor, and soon enough the water rushes forth again. I let Geitir know what I found, and he tells me that he could use someone like me in the guard - better than the layabout he has right now. The pay's not that good, and I'd find myself in some cold out-of-the-way post like this, but it's a living. No? Thought not. He tells me that the canal continues on to Gondamon, so I should head over there too and tell them I fixed the water issue. Their cisterns must be nearly dry by now!



I head back to Thorin's Hall again to deliver the armors, and Brúni wonders if the dwarves down at Noglond have been wrestling with oliphaunts. He could forget two sets of armor in the time it'd take to hammer these out! The dwarf then remembers I also wanted a set of armor polished, and hands it over to me - seems he kept up his half of the bargain. I bring it back to Halli at Frerin's Court, who is sure his brother Kalli will look sharp as an axe in this - the commander is sure to notice him now!

Returning to Gondamon, I speak to Otkell and discover that despite fixing issues at Thorin's Hall and Noglond, the waterflow at Gondamon is still pants anyway, so there must be yet another problem to fix. It seems goblins in the nearby hills are causing the dwarves no end of grief, and the water that exists is fouled by their presence. Otkell says he can send a crew to remove the debris blocking the waterway, but he needs someone with a sout heart and a strong arm to clear out some of the goblins so they won't lose any workers, since they also have the Dourhands to contend with and can't afford to lose more people. After a swift bout of goblin-killing, Otkell sends out his lads to fix the issue, finally clearing the way for fresh water to all the dwarven holdings.

And with that… I'm completely done with the starter region of Ered Luin, and with the Epic Prologue barring one final dialogue box. It's time to set off on a new journey - it's time to head for Bree!
 
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Azumanaga Diaoh?

Man, there are a lot of quests in this game! You're getting close to a hundred by now, aren't you?

This game loves quest chains that lead into each other and just keep going, so it's debatable if all of these should count separately. Ered Luin is a bit heavy on the family drama and literal or spiritual brotherhood, but I've played a bit of Bree so far and it's pretty different.

I played through a chunk of the dwarven intro to note down the divergences and the nuggets of info we get on top of what the elven intro gets, so I'll drop that in next, I think, before Bree-Land content. I'm skipping out on the low-level stuff there, up to about level 14-15 since those are more for starter human players. The introduction archet stuff might be relevant to look into at some point but the rest seems pretty default fighting against brigands and animals.
 
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