#LOTRO: A Warg by Moonlight…

The moon, weak as it was, hid behind many a cloud and its dark night aided our unnoticed exit from the Blackwold’s camp until soon we were passing the area where the two guards had fallen to our surprise attack. The forest beyond was pitch black and eerily quiet as we jogged across the main path and up into the trees and soon we were far enough away to slacken our pace a little. Behind us I could see the small torches of the camp and at various points in the woods small camp fires burnt; until they were all far behind us we would not be entirely safe but here I felt comfortable enough to wave Everwyn to a halt and I lean against a tree to catch my breath.

“Good work,” I whispered to her in the darkness, “Now to get back and speak with Toradan.”

She nodded silently just as the pale moon broke free of a cloud bank high above. Her face seemed thin and pale in the weak light, and her eyes wide and white, scared almost.

She grabbed at my chest and pulled hard. I tumbled forward and to the ground as behind me something fast and hard hit the tree I had been resting against. I rolled and was on my feet again in a heart beat with Everwyn staggering back into the inky night. In front of me, shaking its huge head, stood the warg we had seen earlier. As big as a bear but more streamlined its entire body was powerfully muscled with paws the size of cob hooves and claws and fangs curved and wickedly sharp. It growled a low, guttural rumbling as it turned to face us and I saw pure, naked hunger in its yellowing eyes.

There, in that moment, I knew fear. I had been scared before. I had nearly drowned in Staddlemere as a child, I had been trapped in the barn as it burnt and took my father from me, I had fought for Archet against overwhelming odds and during all those events I had been scared, but now as those evil, cruel eyes bore into me I knew true fear for the first time in my life and I was rooted to the spot. The warg slowly padded towards me, its lips pulled back over fangs that ran with its foul saliva and I could not move a muscle. All I could think about was how my mother had begged me not to take up arms and leave the farm. She had been right and I wrong and my mistake was to be the end of me.

An arrow whisked past my shoulder hit the beast hard in the shoulder and it leapt up with a yelp of pain. I felt the toe-end of Everwyn’s boot up my backside and suddenly the spell was broken. I was up and running immediately and I charged the beast with my shield, throwing my entire weight behind the blow and rolling through to get behind it. My javelin was in my hand in an instant and I jabbed fast and hard. More howls but these were only flesh wounds and the warg had lived long and seen enough battles to have a few tricks of its own. I charged again but it feinted left and ducked under the tip of my weapon from where it could put its full power in to a leap at my shield. I was knocked off my feet and backwards where I landed badly and began to roll down the small hill. I had seconds to correct myself before I was sure the warg would be upon me, indeed it seemed as though he was as close as my shadow and his foul breath was everywhere. I stopped and was into a crouch immediately only to find the space in front of me empty. For a second I was lost, confused as to where the creature had gone, but then something, some part of my instinct, spoke to me and I swung my shield out backwards, spinning on my heel low to the ground. Sure enough the hard, iron rim of my shield smashed into the beast as it was in mid-leap, catching it across the side of its face and bringing it crashing down by my side.

Immediately it began to rise and turn my way again and I backed away quickly, desperate to put some space between me and its teeth. It didn’t follow. Instead it watched my desperate backpedaling for a second or two before swinging its massive frame away and moving off up the hill towards Everwyn.

I had to stop it! I bellowed a vile curse at the top of my lungs and sprang recklessly forward only to realise my mistake immediately. The creature had fooled me again and had wanted to draw me forward so it could pounce over my defense from higher ground!

I raised my shield and javelin but they suddenly seemed so very heavy and my arms moved as if weighted down by lead. I could see my fate approaching with maw wide and fangs bared when from out of the darkness an arrow thudded into the beast’s neck swiftly followed by two more than hit his chest with pin-point precision. Its momentum was lost and it fell short onto my shield rather than over it. Renewed by my good fortune I heaved hard and lifted the evil thing high over my head and smashed it into the hard earth behind me. Two more arrows found their target and I hefted my javelin high for the killing blow. In that last moment the warg’s eyes met my own and to the day I die I will never forget the look it gave me. Some would expect fear or confusion and pain, or perhaps even a plea for clemency but to see nothing but a cold, hard hatred staring back at you until the eyes glazed over chilled me to the marrow.

For the longest time I stood with my weight down on the javelin that pinned the beast to the forest floor until Everwyn slowly came to my side and gently talked to me and led me away. She worked my weapon free and handed it back.

“Come,” she said softly, “Let’s go.”

 

#LOTRO: There are many levels to climb…

It’s been a funny old week really. I put my plan for Ranhold into action, ran around Chetwood with Keltorn, skirmished with Rolcko and crafted with the others but even though many levels were progressed, it really hasn’t felt like I’ve moved on at all. Not that I’m complaining. It’s more like I’ve hit a smooth groove and everything is running well, which is nice

Ranhold – Man, Champion, Historian, Master Expert Weaponsmith & Master Scholar. Level 42
So there I was in Rivendell and Elrond was all like “Man, git you’re sorry butt up the Misty Mountains before I whoop it!” and I’m like “No way fella, I’m off to see my mates over in Evendim first!” and he’s like all “Whatever”.

Evendim. At long, long last I’ve got there. Like a shining beacon on the horizon the promise of the revamped Annuminas has beckoned only for me to be pulled away by questing in other areas or following the Epic Storyline. But now I am there and my Historian’s soul both sings with joy and weeps with sorrow at the vast treasures of the past that lay there slowly vanishing from memory. It is every bit as beautiful as the Trollshaws but in a very different way.

The questing has been great fun there too – far more so than in the Trollshaws and this reflects one of the benefits of revamping a region. Single NPCs acts as quest hubs for several NPCs nearby and when all the quests they give you are done they give another tier. In this way you get quests that are related in tone, topic and, most importantly, geographical area at once and therefore don’t waste endless hours travelling between places like the three main areas in the Trollshaws. As a completeist I like to mine areas of their quests and the system in Evendim allows me to do that in a far more enjoyable fashion. I’ve been there for a week and I doubt I’ve done half the avaiable quests yet and I still haven’t actually reached the city itself – instead I’ve been having great fun battling giants and talking to an Ent (insert fanboy SQUEEEE! here)

The next time I log on to Ran he will be entering a quest where he travels with Longbough to fight a nasty Wood-Troll called Heart Rot! *faints with geeky excitement*

Apart from that there’s been a fair bit of crafting going on but until I can find some materials for the next tier I’m stuck and unable to level that skill. I have heard they are to be found in the Misty Mountains so it looks like that will be my next destination after Evendim when I rejoin the Epic Storyline and go to see Gloin to help him with a wee Goblin problem he has…

Gorfrik – Dwarf, Hunter, Armourer, Master Metalsmith & Artisan Tailor. Level 24
Gorfrik has been crafting. That and slowly upping his Guild reputation. He’s been kept busy-ish making for Rolcko, Keltorn & Everwyn. He’s happy enough.

Nimlarn – Elf, Minstrel, Woodsman & Master Expert Woodworker. Level 22

Poor Nimlarn, aside from making the odd spear for Keltorn he’s been ignored. I don’t really want to skirmish with him as Rolcko’s so much fun and I would rather take Ranhold through the Epic Story so Nimlarn is an Elf Without Portfolio right now. I did manage to up his woodworking skill to Expert and get him to Esteldin to join the guild (boy, what a fun ride that was all the way from Bree…) but as I have one (count it) log of Lebethron wood I can’t actually do anything with the next set of skills this unlocked. To be honest, I won’t be playing this guy for a while – I want to see how the Isengard changes pan out and then I might start running him in skirmishes for a bit, or through the Barrow Downs.

Hocko – Hobbit, Burglar, Tinkerer & Master Jeweller. Level 20

Nothing, nada & nowt. Not even an earring. At some point this will be a good character for taking through the Epic Story but until then he’s going to be a jeweller pure and simple – all he needs is the ores and gems from the other guys

Rolcko – Hobbit, Guardian, Yeoman, Supreme Farmer & Master Cook. Level 30

What a guy! He’s made the last ten levels from 20 to 30 just in skirmishes! Gorfrik & Ranhold made him some snazzy new armour and weapons and he’s a delight to play. I can seriously see this guy reaching level cap way before Ranhold simply because the monster kill XP he’s getting in skirmishes, boosted by the RoI +25% item, are just powering him up the ladder. My only regret is not making him an explorer because that way he could be now going out to and collect ore and wood in places no-one (bar Ranhold who can’t collect either) else can. When there is ever another character slot sale I might well make a Rolcko V2 just for collecting.

Oh, he has a kick-ass crossbow now too

Keltorn – Man of Bree, Warden, Explorer. Level 14

Keltorn had a great week both with Everwyn and on his own. With Everwyn he dinged up two levels and cleared out a lot of the Combe/Chetwood quests and I’m really enjoying how well me & Eve get on in game – it bodes well for when we come to skirmish On his own I took Keltorn out to collect Yew from the southern-most areas of Evendim and despite a few chases and near misses he collected enough to get both his forestery up and Nimlarn’s woodworking up a level. Why Evendim you may ask? Well both he and Everwyn had gone there earlier as part of the “Pirate Day” mini-quest that netted us these great eye-patches and noticed loads of materials going uncollected:)

Both Everture and I have been writing about Keltorn & Everwyn’s adventures and you can read our accounts here and here.

Elsewhere…

I think that about covers it really. The big thing hanging over all of us is the Rise of Isengard expansion that goes live today – I’m really looking forward to it, not in terms of its content as I won’t reach that for a while, but more because of the changes it will bring to the gameplay for all classes. I can see I will have a few nights where all I’ll be doing is re-learning my characters’ skills and re-organising their toolbars. Happy Days

 

#LOTRO: No Sign of Amdir…

We crept past the slumbering guards and further into the fort until we stood outside what was left of a large side room, its wall crumbled to the floor in one corner. From inside came the mumble of quiet voices and I dared a darting glance around the wall. Inside, with their backs to us, two men stood in the far corner, they were poring over maps on a table and quite oblivious to our presence. Everwyn glanced in too before we both moved back and looked at each other, her expression was cold but her eyes were gleaming with more than reflected torchlight. It had been clear who was the ranking officer and a few nods and silent hand-signals later we made ready a simple plan.

I spun round the corner and sprinted across the room, the men turned in alarm to look at me just as I felt two arrows slice past my shoulder. The man to my left spun round and hit the wall dead as the other grabbed for his sword. I cleared the space between us in four strides and swung my shield up hard. It connected with his jaw with a sound that suggested he would have trouble eating anything but broth in the future and he collapsed to the floor unconscious. A quick check outside to ensure no one had heard or was about to raise the alarm and Everwyn ran over to join me.

“Nice shot,” I remarked glancing at the dead man by the wall.

“Nice smash to face,” she replied flatly. I think she was being sarcastic but I found it hard to tell at times.

“It worked,” I said with a mean smile.

“Hmm, well let’s find out if he can still talk before we give you a medal, eh?” Sarcastic then. I think. “Pass that wine jug,” she nodded to the table as she began to lash the unconscious man’s hands and feet together.

“I don’t think this is the time for a drink, do you?” I replied.

“Not for me,” I noticed she did not say ‘us’, “For him, you fool!” she hissed. I passed it over and she took it in one hand as she withdrew a knife from her boot with the other, “Now watch the approach and let me know of someone is coming. I’ll wake him up and see if he can oblige us with news of this precious Ranger.

The next few minutes were unpleasant to say the least, especially for the Blackwold, but talk he did. Everwyn proved to be most persuasive and not for the last time I felt relief we were blade-mates and not enemies.

“He said,” she whispered to me as I stood by the entrance and kept watch, “the Ranger was taken by another officer somewhere else. He swore he didn’t know where but he gave me the name Skunkwood. Do you know of him?”

“The name is familiar, yes. A brigand and robber and low-criminal of these parts. It would make sense for his sort to have thrown in with these devils.”

“What should we do now then?” she asked as she wiped her blade clean on a scrap of cloth, part of the Blackwold’s own uniform I noted.

I thought for a while before replying. I wanted to tear this damnable place down and kill all the murdering swine I could find but I knew I stood little chance of managing that and living. No, better to gather more forces and make them all pay for what they did to Archet properly rather thanjust a few in a grand but stupid gesture. “We should return,” I said eventually, “Go back to Combe and speak with Underhill and Toradan. Maybe they will aid us in finding Skunkwood and the Ranger and then we can all return here to hold these filth to account for their actions.”

Everwyn slipped the dagger back into her boot and nodded, “Let’s move before our path here is discovered,” she said simply and padded back along the dark corridor to where we had entered…

 

#LOTRO: Into the Blackwold’s Camp…

We waited until the sun had gone down and the forest bathed in the light of a weak moon. The patrols had thinned out, replaced instead by guards positioned around the ruined fort, and the warg had returned to its den when we made our move. We crept down the hill towards a point were two guards had come together by a tree, talking & laughing instead of guarding their perimeter. Their dereliction of duty left large gaps of inky darkness between them and the next guard on duty and this was to prove a very costly mistake for them.

Everwyn looked at me and flicked her eyes to the man on the left. I nodded. She deftly notched an arrow whilst I unslung my javelin. Both of us silently prepared for the strike, she pulling back hard and I crouching low, heaving my weapon back as far as I could. Our eyes were on our targets and nothing else in the world but those two men mattered, Whether we got through the next hour alive came down to the next few seconds and both of us knew it.

She loosed her arrow first, it sliced through the air with all the speed of a hawk diving upon its prey. It flew true and the man jolted backwards at the impact, dead before he hit the floor without having uttered even the smallest of cries. His companion was stunned and wasted the last second of his life looking down at his friend and then into the darkness of the forest, unable to comprehended what had just happened as my javelin streaked towards him. It was a solid throw and a perfect hit, punching through his armour and pinning him to the tree. Old Roper would have been proud.

We ran silently through the darkness and towards the downed guards, Everwyn retrieving her arrow and I my javelin. It would be wrong to say I felt nothing as the man (surprisingly still alive, although barely) slid down the tree and folded at my feet. I felt the sweet thrill of vengeance. He and his kind had showed no mercy nor pity to the unarmed folk of Archet and I intended to repay them all in kind.

The death of the guards would be discovered soon enough so there was little use in hiding their bodies, even assuming we could have done so undetected, so we stepped over them and pressed on. We ran to the main gate where another two guards stood. Each received the same treatment as their friends but Everwyn & I knew these would be the last of our quiet kills. From here we would have to move fast.

We raced inside the fort and saw various collections of brigands scattered throughout, gathered around campfires and tents. Most of the force seemed to be asleep, trusting their guards to keep them safe. Given their numbers, this was a delusion I was happy to leave them with, at least until we could mobilise more fighters to aid us in clearing this nest out once and for all. For now I was content with locating Amdir and returning to Combe, but of the missing Ranger we could see no sign. Still, we had to investigate thoroughly and so we pressed on and headed deeper in to the ruins, across a bridge and towards a well lit section that might just hold our answers…

 

#LOTRO: Crafting, Crafting and more bloody Crafting…

Well, apart from Ranhold, the new guy Keltorn has well and truly put everyone in the shade and reduced them down to mere crafting machines this week…

Ranhold – Man, Champion, Historian, Master Expert Weaponsmith & Master Scholar. Level 42
Ranhold moved a little further along the path of the Epic Storyline now and is all but finished in the enchanting but dangerous Trollshaws (his level has been slowly creeping up too and is now just over 42 and a half). His next step is to meet Gloin up in the Misty Mountains and whilst I’m happy he’s heading off to their fabled heights it is yet another move that is taking me further away from my desire to see Evendim so I’ve taken (just now, as I type this in fact) the decision to put the epic back on ice and head over to complete all the wonderful challenges that await me in the land of Annuminas. Watch this space!

Gorfrik – Dwarf, Hunter, Armourer, Master Metalsmith & Artisan Tailor. Level 23
Gorfrik has had one trip out to gather ores from Kingsfell but apart from that he’s been crafting armour for Keltorn and Everwyn. As I wanted it all to be critted to give our newest heroes the kind of fighting chance Ranhold never had he ran out of Common flax pretty quickly and the prices in the AH are insane! (150sp for 1 common flax! Fek off!). Luckily some kinmates helped out as did Everwyn, but as the crit rate for Gorfrik seems to be lower than the others I knew I’d need a lot. Keltorn has had to go out harvesting and poor Rolcko has become a skirmish slave, daily battling all manner of foul creatures just so he can spend his hard earned marks on a small handful of fibre he posts to Gorfrik – it’s been a real grind but worth it

Nimlarn – Elf, Minstrel, Woodsman & Journeyman Woodworker. Level 22

Nimlarn has had another quiet week – in truth I can’t see me playing him until after RoI unleashes the massive class changes on him. After that he may even stand a good chance of being a skirmisher, who knows.

Hocko – Hobbit, Burglar, Tinkerer & Master Jeweller. Level 20

Beyond crafting two sets of critted bling for Keltorn and Everwyn, Hocko has had a very quiet week indeed. Again, I will bring this guy out more after RoI I think but as his skirmishing skills are limited when solo I will be keeping this lad for grouping only.

Rolcko – Hobbit, Guardian, Yeoman, Supreme Farmer & Master Cook. Level 28

Rolcko has hard at work all week – skirmishing like a demon, working the AH like a pro and cooking like, well, a cook. This lad is without doubt the backbone of Team Burro and without him the whole enterprise would collapse! I have to say that out of all my guys this one is the one I enjoy skirmishing with the most – especially with his above level bad-ass DPS-crazy soldier helper. I’ve done more in a week of skirmishing with Rol than in all the months Ranhold has been able to skirmish. He’s brutal, efficient and bloody good fun.

Keltorn – Man of Bree, Warden, Explorer. Level 12

Keltorn, barely a week old, is fast becoming my new obsession. Partly it’s his amazing combat style, partly it’s because I’m actually giving this guy a working RP background and writing up his tales in an RP fashion, but mostly it’s because I get to play with someone else and that is always fun! Don’t get me wrong, I like soloing – I can’t imagine running Ranhold any other way. It’s just that I also like going through it with someone else too – and seeing as Eve and I share a sense of humour about the game and aren’t playing for bragging rights or engaged in a pissing contest with the rest of the world, it’s turning out to be great fun indeed You can follow Keltorn’s account of his journey from Bree-land defender to Middle-Earth warrior here.

Elsewhere…

Nothing much really. I’m still exploring and loving the cosmetic wardrobe options (Ranhold is making a lot of dyes) and I’ve had to fork out to increase my shared storage from 60 to 70 slots, but other than that it’s all been about grinding, whether that be gathering ores, fighting for marks or simply making armour for Keltorn and Everwyn. Happy days

 

#LOTRO: An unexpected enemy…

As a boy my father had taken me hunting in Chetwood and although it was considerably smaller than Far Chetwood away to the north it had seemed to my childish eyes the largest, darkest place that could ever be. Back then the Blackwolds were naught but a loose collection of troublesome families and none had laid claim to any part of the forest but still my father had urged caution whenever we heard or saw others travelling through the trees. “Folks that as come through here,” he would say “more as likely want to get gone as quickly as can be and won’t thank us for any delays we cause ‘em.” His warnings didn’t stop at just travellers though, “Thems that as live out here are a queer bunch and don’t want bothering either. I ain’t saying they be wrong ‘uns but like my old pa said and his afore him “Ye’d be a fool to put yer head in a bee’s next, boy” and I tends to agree. Folk whats live here want to be left be and left be we’ll leave ‘em.” Not that people were the only dangers under the green leaves and many a path he showed me to avoid the wolf dens in the cliffs or the spider traps by Midgewater. I’d grown to respect the forest, but I can’t ever say I liked it.

Still, as Everwyn and I rode past the lumber yard and under the eves of the enormous trees I was surprised to feel a small shiver run down my spine. True it didn’t seem so big or so dark any more, but something about this place chilled me. Maybe it was the way in which all sounds seemed to vanish into the trees leaving only the uneasy snorting of our horses to keep us company, or maybe it was just the memories of those stern warnings from my father, I could not say for sure but when we heard our first wolf howl I felt my grip on my reigns tighten considerably.

Time had not been kind to the old woods and I could not imagine my father, were he still alive, bringing a young boy out here to hunt again. Wolves roamed freely, sullenly staring at our passing as if calculating their chances against both of us together. Spiders had crept out of the marshes in frightening numbers and hung in their webs or stalked through the undergrowth waiting for a meal to pass close enough by for a strike. We avoided all of these as best we could, quickly and silently dealing with any we could not, until we came to the heart of the forest and caught the scent of wood smoke of the breeze. In the gloom we could see sparks from several camp fires rising upwards and since our victory in Archet we had found our first tangible clue to the whereabouts of the Blackwold scum. With the thrill of the hunt beating in our chests we began to plan out next step, silently smug that we had got so far with out detection.

The arrow that zipped past Everwyn thudded into my shoulder, luckily the thick padding stopping it from reaching my body, and I was knocked off my feet. My friend had already notched an arrow and let it fly by the time I stood up and began running to where she was pointing. I could see a female Blackwold archer crouching behind cover and I ran at her like a wild horse before she had time to get off another shot. Everwyn’s arrow was true and the scout yelped in pain as it dug into her leg. Seconds later I leapt over the log she was cowering behind and swiped my shield up hard against her head. She folded like flag cut loose and collapsed to the ground.

We had been lucky. No one else seemed to have heard the commotion and the scout had not been able to get a warning cry out before I had knocked her out. “She dead?” asked my friend.

“Just unconscious,” I replied.

“Good,” she said and bent to start tying her to the log, “Wake her up and she can tell us where her friends are.”

It didn’t take long for the scout to tell us what we wanted. The Blackwolds had half a dozen camps scattered in the woods outside the old fort. the old fort itself being where the chief was to be found and although she claimed to know nothing about a Ranger named Amdir, she said that the Blackwold chief was the one responsible for the attack on Archet. Whether she was telling the truth or not didn’t really matter, our course remained un-altered only now we knew to look out for more scouts such as her. Everwyn tied the gag around her struggling head and began to move out.

“And her?” I asked looking down at the woman who bore a wild look of fury mixed with terror.

“Let the wolves have her,” Everwyn replied coldly without looking back.

~~~~*~~~~

We skirted three campsites and passed by a small cottage before we came to the old fort. All were crawling with Blackwolds, but the old fort itself was clearly their main stronghold. We hid in the trees and watched as scouts and captains passed by on well-trod paths and patrol routes. “A lot of activity,” I whispered.

“Well they did just burn down Archet. They must know Bree’s constables will be looking for them.”

“Still,” I replied, “Something doesn’t seem right. Seems like they are protecting something.”

“The Ranger, you mean?”

I nodded, “Maybe. Not sure how we can get into the fort to find out though. Look,” I indicated into the fort itself, “They have dogs and that will complicate matters.”

Everwyn squintted, “They’re not dogs. More like some kind of wolf. Big, nasty looking bastards.”

“I hate wolves,” I muttered, more to myself than to my friend.

“Then you really won’t like this,” she hissed back, her voice urgent, “Look!”

Down below us, emerging from one of the gates to the crumbling fort came something I had never seen before, something I had only heard of in song and tale, something that had terrified my childhood dreams. It strode on all fours, its powerful shoulders working like twin pump handles as it swung its low, powerful head from left to right sniffing at the air. Its eyes were fierce and its lips curled back over teeth as long as a spear-tip. My blood froze in my veins as, wide-eyed, I hissed back “A warg… Oh gods, a bloody warg…”

 

#LOTRO: Tracing the Blackwolds to Chetwood Forest…

With the smoke and tears of Archet at our backs, Everwyn & I rode out to Combe to start our hunt for the Blackwold swine who had caused such misery. There was a minor distraction by way of our fevered flight through spider infested tunnels which no one in the area knew were lurking beneath their feet, but once we had found and slain the foul creature spawning these monsters we were able to enter Combe unassailed. My what a difference from Archet! Nary a building had been touched or person injured and, bar a broken wagon the brigands had used as a barricade at the gate, no one had lost any property or livestock.

The Fates certainly work in mysterious ways for had the wounded Ranger been brought to Combe then I feel sure her citizens would now be the ones weeping over graves and smoking ruins and not Archet’s. Still, Archet is where Amdir was brought (and lost) and Archet paid the price but the good people of Combe were rallying themselves to aid their neighbours and as we rode through the gate and down towards the market square we passed many a citizen busy gathering food and supplies onto carts.

Before we left Archet, Everwyn and I had discussed where the brigands could have come from in such a fashion as to cut Archet of and not arouse suspicion from the people of nearby Combe and it seemed to us that the most likely spot would have been Chetwood Forest. The hills between the southern-most border of the forest were sparsely populated and rarely traversed so a force could move across them, bypassing Combe, and come down into the Dale of Archet quiet easily. Yes, Chetwood seemed the most likely place to start our search for the animals and so that is where we agreed to go.

We reported our arrival to the town Counstable, a dour Halfling named Underhill. He had little love for the Blackwolds and promised us what aid he could give in our hunt. To that end he bade us speak with the local innkeep who in turn led us to a grim Ranger named Toradan who was, it seemed, himself eager to speak with us. During our sojourn in the tunnels of the spider queen Iornaith word of the part Everwyn & I played in the defence of Archet must have reached Combe as Toradan knew not only who we were but why we had come to Combe and he had a proposal of mutual benefit to put before us.

Amdir, the poor devil stabbed and captured in Archet by means of some form of sorcery, was a friend of his and Toradan wanted to stage a rescue from where he believed he was being held by the Blackwolds deep in the nearby forest. Our part was to locate him and report back any information we could before engaging the Blackwolds directly; once Amdir was safe then Toradan promised us his blade in avenging Archet’s fallen. What could we say other than to agree? Our losses were mutual and causes aligned; a double blow to the Blackwolds would be all the sweeter.

Outside we climbed into our saddles and with nary a word between us set off as one along the road that would lead us into Chetwood Forest and to the Blackwold’s camp…

 

#LOTRO: The Fires of Archet…

If I hadn’t left Bree that day to visit old Roper the trainer in Combe, I would never have ended up in Archet as it burnt.

Some might have cursed their bad luck at this, resentful that their poor choice of time or direction should have led to their capture and rough treatment by Blackwold thugs. They might have raised their fist to the sky and railed at the fates for assailing them; for conspiring against them, turning on them and betraying them.

Not I.

If I had chosen another time to visit, or postponed my training altogether, content instead to gather crops in the fields and make merry in the Pony like so many of my brothers and cousins and friends, then I would never have discovered the full extent of the terrible danger my beloved hometown of Bree faced. No, I was glad then and am glad now that I found myself in the stinking goal of the Blackwolds, for without them, and the assistance of the Ranger who freed me, I would never had had the opportunity to play my part in not only the defence of Archet, but of Bree and all the lands to the east.

So I thank the Blackwold scum for taking me alive that night or I would not have found myself fighting by the side of Strider, Atli, Jon Brackenbrook & his father, not to mention Evenwyn the brave warrior who became my blade-mate that night, as the town burnt around us. And although the Captain of the town and many others fell in the battle, we saved the town and its people and finally had our complacent eyes opened to the evils that were waiting unseen in the shadows, ready to pounce and devour us all at a moment’s notice.

And now I am irrevocably locked onto a path, a javelin streaking towards the heart of my foe, and this journal shall serve as record of my journey and testament to not only my achievements, but those of my sword-bothers who share my path. My friends and I may be few, but we are resolute and determined, our steel tempered by the fires of Archet until even our passing will wound our enemy.

I am Keltorn, son of Willdayne, Warden of Bree and today I train in Combe for tomorrow I go to seek out and crush the Blackwold threat once and for all.

 

#LOTRO: A Little More on Wardens…

Sorry about that but it had to be said Now for some more measured words on my very limited experiences of playing a Warden.

1) I am in love, did I mention this? Partly it’s the good, old-fashioned manly love I have for the Spartans (only made even deeper by the visuals of 300) and partly it’s because of the noble nature of the the class’ portrayal in LOTRO (based, as it is, on Haldir) but there is also a large dollop of lust over the look of the class too – I love the cut-out shields and the whole javelin and spear attacks are just gorgeous! Watch these two LOTRO videos here and here to see what I mean

2) I’ve always loved my Champion and my Guardian has been a delight and although I’ve really enjoyed my Hunter, my Burglar and my Minstrel, I’ve come to realise that what I like more than anything is running up to monsters and beating the living tar out of them toe to claw, nose to snout and my Warden is another class that lets me do this with (nearly) all the style of my Champ mixed with some of the survivability of my Guardian. What a mix…

3) The Gambit combat system is a nice touch – you complete one of three attacks (spear stab, shield block/whack or big old bellowing scream) follow it up by another and they unlock a more powerful attack (so two jabs give you a huge jab, two shield block give you a huge whack, etc) that is both effective and fun to watch. Ah but three attaks in combos of two do not result in all that many improved attacks, do they? No they do not Mr Burro. Well fear not for you can begin to learn more attacks and more combinations so the powerful gambit pool grows as you progress which give you some nice moves including self-heals and, my favourite, a fekking great kick attack to the balls (or face if you are a wolf/pig/hobbit).

So there you have it – another studdly HBA is let loose in Middle Earth to right wrongs, help the helpless and kick the daylights out of Blackwold scum and grubby little goblins until his knee aches. Gawd Bless the Warden!

p.s. Take a gander at these two videos, one showing the Warden in combat at level 13 in Chetwood and one with a Warden at level 65 taking on a huge dragon. It’s like the Champ and the Guardian had a wee bouncing baby

 

#LOTRO: Early Thoughts on the Warden Class

I. Am. In. Love.