Coru surveys the carnage of the recent battle being mopped up around the main room. "A couple of leaderless Goblins can't do no harm," he thinks to himself. First, the Gargath takes a closer look at the man hanging from the wall. He is not recogniseable but appears to be a Northman in origin although there is something slightly unusual about his features. Coru can't quite guess. The Orcs seem to have caused the wounds on his body just for fun, or to keep him weak and in a semi-conscious state for some unknown purpose. There are no marks or tribal symbols at all that Coru can find on his body or made by the Orcs on the prisoner or the walls of the room. 

Coru moves over to the wooden flip-top chest beside the rough sleeping pallet. He gets down on one knee and scrutinizes the thing for signs of traps. Believing that the chest appears clear, Coru is just about to open it, when he stops, and turn to Froin, saying: 
"Froin, I'd like you to have a look at this. I would have discovered a trap hidden underneath some leaves or shrubbery, but I do not trust my eyes when the traps are hidden in some mechanism.  Frankly, I believe this is more your area than mine." 

Relg leaves the room and quickly examines the rest of the level. He searches the rough piles of belongings which are distributed over this level, curious if there is anything special or of interest. 

The only pile of 'proper' clothing is apparently the clothes of the prisoner. The clothing consists of a dark outer travelling cloak, dirty leather boots, woolen trousers with soft inner lining, an inner tunic of soft material padded for winter, and an outer leather jacket-styled tunic. This leather tunic seems to have had something pinned above the left breast but it has been ripped out. 

The Dwarven Engineer makes short work of searching the chests and with a deft flick of a needl-like tool, he flips the first chest open. 
As he does so, Relg asks him about the origins of the Watchtower, it's makers and its reason for being in this place, against whom. 

Froin replies: 
"Well, I remember Tewo during one of our late night chats talking  about such places. I think, he said something of the following: 
- The Dwarves of long ago had explored much of what is now the lands of Rhovanion when the world was young and the lands whereever changing. The skies too. In those times the night had been black, without the stars and the air was thick with new life. The rock and earth was still birthing in places but the Dwarf Kings were unafraid because all had been shown to them by Mahal, our Maker. Thus, they explored and ventured into the flat places of the land and were awed at the shape of the lands and the towering peaks that rose jagged across the horizon. It was in this time perhaps that the Watchtowers were built, for us Dwarves hungered for the knowledge of all that we saw, of the lands and the creatures that lived within them. So the watchtowers were built to afford the wandering Khazad a focus point to meet and send signals across great distances. Some stayed in these places and built many contraptions that would help themselves and others watch the dawn of the Age of Stars. But eventually they were all abandoned when the Age of Stars became the Age of the Sun, as it is known, and the relentless heat and light hurt our eyes and we sought shelter and quiet in our halls deep within the mountains. Why do you ask, Relg of the Fist?" 

"Two reasons made me ask. History often reveals interesting view points on the current situation, and history often helps to overcome current problems. But more important, I wondered if we could make use of this tower." Relg hesitates, but then continues: "Somehow. I don't know yet, if and how." 

Meanwhile, Coru is gleefully lifting out objects from the opened chest of the Uruk chief while Froin works on the other, smaller one. 

Inside the first chest is a heavily worn tabard of some velvety-like material wrapped round a longish hard pole-like object. The cloth is ancient, the fibres tending to tear easily as Coru lifts it out. Underneath, is a pile of very old Dwarven coinage of assorted low-grade denomination upon which rests some sort of 'necklace' of linked and beaten square gold plates. He also produces the steel head of an axe of obviously Dwarven make - since the metal has scrollwork down its blunt end. 

Unrolling the fragmenting tabard reveals a fabulous and ornate short sword. It is longer than the average weapon but less than a broadsword and straight bladed. The two-tone metal is in surprisingly good condition and the blade is still fairly sharp. It is obviously worth a lot. However, it is not an Orcish weapon but more likely from a highly skilled Mannish or Elven smith. 

The smaller chest near to the prisoner contains an assortment again, of coinage but this time in higher denominations - some (as Froin spies) are even of the rarer special mintings from the Dwarf Mansion at Khazad-Dum. It will take a while to count but the smaller chest holds a far greater value of coinage than the larger one and Froin's face lights up with the brightness of it. 

Spotting the treasure, Relg holds his breath, then quietly whistles. "This is good news for our men," he says. Then he takes a close look at the short sword, trying to find any symbols which might indicate its uniqueness. 

Froin picks up the steel axe head and the 'Necklace', examining both, but shortly he sets the latter item back in the chest and begins to read what he can from the scrollwork on the axehead. While he does so however, Froin, taking a quick look at the rarer coins, reaches in and grabs a few and puts them in an inner pouch of his shirt. Looking over he sees Coru looking at him with a doubtful eye. "We have few coins among us as it is," he says. "There will come a time when we will need this. And to leave it here for more goblins... I would rather throw these coins into a furnace for melting." Looking back, Froin grabs another two handfuls of coins and then moves back to where the others are surveying the prisoner. 

..... 
 

Heladil stays with Meraina on the third floor with the wounded Boldor. The smoke from Lochan's firestarting is blowing back into the corridor and making peoples eyes smart and sting.  Meraina hears a shout from outside the Tower and below, possibly a man's voice trying to call their attention. She turns to Heladil saying: 
"Do what you can for him to make him as mobile as possible." Indicating Boldor. "We may not have much notice before we have to run out of here." She adds but Heladil is already moving over towards the stairs. 

The nearest hole in the crumbling wall that isn't on fire is the collapsed section of the stairwell leading down. Heladil can just make out Gwalchmai standing upon the grassy sward below and looking up. The Elf waves him over. "Are you badly hurt? Gwalchmai, are you all safe down there?" 

Gwalchmai looks to be injured once more as a large strip of cloth is wrapped across his chest in a 'Z' pattern. It complements his earlier wound across his waist and this one shows a nice swathe of redness. 

Seeing Heladil head over to the breach, Meraina checks to make sure Boldor is alright for the moment and carefully joins Heladil at the opening. She notices Gwalchmai and his bandaging. "He does enjoy his scars, doesn't he?" she murmurs to Heladil and then listens intently to what Gwalchmai tries to yell up to them. She manages to catch only the last of what the great man is saying. 

"...one man!" The man pauses thinking before adding, "Arekhel also says that it may be here for a reason or... linked? to the tower... and that normal weapons will pass straight through it. I hope some of you have ideas because we don't." 

Meraina frowns at Gwalchmai's words.  Thinking quickly she calls down to Gwalchmai: 
"Can you throw up a grappling hook and a rope?" She then looks quickly around to see if there is anything to secure the hook to. The walls or door-frames look solid enough. 

Looking down to check to see if Gwalchmai has gone for a hook she also calls down: 
"Just what does Arekhel mean 'linked to the tower'?" 

Upon hearing Gwalchmai words, Heladil turns to Meraina: "Ghost? Linked to the tower? My Lady that does not sound good. Not at all. Let's get Boldor patched up and join the others upstairs since it seems we have our way down blocked but for a rope.  Perhaps they have found something to shed some light upon this. If not, then at least we'll all be together and can get down before perhaps figuring out what to do next." 

Gwalchmai takes but a moment to find a grappling hook from someones supplies and attaches a rope before slinging it up to the third floor gap where Meraina peers down. He curses and holds his side in pain but grins again seeing his first strike reach them. He continues: "I don't know what Arekhel means. She is not her normal self. You better hurry though because 
we won't be able to hold that creature off for long if it chooses to come after us all..." 

Meraina grabs the hook and wedges it tightly between some wall-stones where it will hold the best. Urging the others there to use the rope to leave she runs down the stairs to see if anyone is still there and if so explains the situation. Carefully making her way past the debris she tells the Hobbits about the rope and Gwalchmai's warning. 

"We have a rope we can use to climb out of here. Arekhel is acting strangely and I don't really think we should stay here with this thing below us." 

Billy comes out from behind a chair he was hiding behind and winks at Raddish. "Master Raddish, I think I'll be going to join the others now like the good lady here says. Are you coming or are you going to wait down here all by yourself?" 

"I'll come swiftly Billy, I'm really intrigued by the creature below.. I wonder what it could be?" 

Meanwhile Heladil calls down to Gwalchmai once more. "All right. We'll join the others and let them know. Stay away from the creature until we can figure out something." 

Heladil sees Meraina and the Hobbits passing by once more on the stairs and goes to Boldor to prepare him to join the others upstairs. 

..... 
 

Meanwhile upstairs, Relg joins Lochan, who is surveying the injured man carefully. Looking at the badly wounded body, Relg says more to himself than to the others: 
"It is probably best to kill him quickly, I guess we would do him a favor." Then he directly addresses Lochan: 
"Do you think we can move him? I would suggest to take him down, Arekhel might know best how to help him. And once he can speak he may be able to clarify some of the remaining questions." 

Lochan at first deigns not to answer the Gargath and goes at once to check the other man's wounds. Lochan approaches the tortured man carefully, so that he does not startle him with any sudden movements. The Ranger is clearly shocked by the damage to his torso but his expression is methodical and focussed as he closely examines the man. "Will careful application of my remaining herbs help his condition?" he muses to himself. 

Relg looks up, trying to locate Valdo. "Anyway, I strongly suggest to re-establish contact with the others down at the bottom of the tower. We don't know yet if and how they managed to defend themselves, and I don't like the thought of having something at our back, which we don't know about." 

Valdo is already ordering some of his returning men to update him on the situation downstairs. But Relg continues: 
"But as I see it, there is still another level upstairs that we have not fully explored." Relg points to the stairs, leading further up. 

Froin thinks for a split second, and decides to hold on to the axehead for a little longer. "This could come in handy," he says. Picking up the necklace once more, Froin goes over to join Valdo and Relg. "I am not familiar with foreign insignia. Does this hold any importance to either of you?" 

Both warriors look carefully at the object but finally shrug. "It doesn't seem to have any markings or particular style to it," says Valdo. "Must be worth at least a bit for the metal," says Relg, handing it back to the Dwarf. 

"Well, I shall check upstairs," says Relg. Valdo motions for a militia man to go with him and the two head for the waiting stairs. 

Froin goes finally over to survey the prisoner: 
"Hmm, not particularly effective these cuffs by the look o'them. We could probably prise them open with a strong bar of wood or metal. Or maybe just pull them out of the wall?" 

Lochan, who is standing next to Froin gently raises the head of the injured man then suddenly looses his temper. He starts swearing loudly: "What the hell....I don't believe this!! You stinking piece of worm-ridden filth. What are you doing here?" 

Froin backs away from the sudden outburst and looks at his companion in shock. The young Ranger seems to pause for a moment, starts to turn away toward Valdo and the others but then spins round and punches the wall next to the prisoner. A small shower of grit dislodges and crumbles to the floor. It almost looks as if the man has gone insane. "Valdo get here NOW, or so help me I'll tear this man apart!" He bellows. Valdo dashes to beside him and stares at the man before them upon the wall. "I don't believe it! Arekhel was exactly right. It is Urmahd!!" 

..... 
 

The young Hobbit leaps ahead of Meraina and Heladil and pokes his head up further into the room above the curving stairs and grins sheepishly. Drawing his dagger, he surges forward through the corridor to leap into the room occupied by the rest of the company. He turns about the room as if looking for a foe. "My baked nobblins! Looks likes I's too late, if only I's come up them stairs when I's heard the fight start instead of hiding behind yonder rubble until it gart quiet again." He mutters this to himself but quite loud enough for those nearby to hear. Winking at Froin he goes over to stand beside the Dwarf mimicking his stance and posture. His face assumes a mock serious expression. In a gruff, grim voice he tries to imitate Froin's tone as best he can saying, "Aye, 'tis a bloody day for warrious such as us." He breaks into a smile and then into a childish giggle as Froin humours the fellow. 

He is still lightly chuckling to himself as he begins frisking the filthy goblin corpses. 

Meanwhile... 
 

Relg takes the stairs two at a time and lifts a hatch which opens onto the roof of the watchtower. As the two men move forward they see another central curving wall which is surrounded by an outer ringed passageway. The difference between this and the floor below is that the outer passageway is open to the afternoon air. The stairs comes out by a curving balustrade that follows round the outside until it comes across a circular platform raised and jutting out from the side of the tower. This small side platform can best be described as having a stone cage built atop it and appears to be some sort of housing for a beacon fire - evidenced by the assortment of branches, twigs and detritus that has been recently piled into it. 

The central room turns out to be also open to the winds but is surrounded by a wall perhaps two metres in height. A gap nearby to where Relg stands affords access to the inner chamber which has some sort of metal ring sunk into the floor and also around the inner wall. A couple of metal bars (badly corroded and stained) are attached in places to these 'rings' but their use defies Relg. 

Relg hears the far off voice of Gwalchmai and looks down: 
"Good to see you alive, Gwalchmai. We have seen this creature, but thank you for..." Relg stops yelling, then continues: 
"Thank you for your concern. We may have an answer up here, there is a metal ring integrated in the floor up here, we have to..." Suddenly Relg stops again as a movement to his left catches the warrior's sight and he just ducks in time to avoid the flashing beak of a large greeny-black crow. It swoops over his head and wheels up and over the tower where it joins a smallish flock of other black crows. As it goes amongst them, the rest suddenly change their chaotic swirling becoming a cohesive group within a moment which turns to head straight towards the two men. 

Relg pushes the militia man back, yelling: 
"Get back, this is no battle to win. Go get fire, I am holding them off." With these words, Relg draws his weapon and raises his shield. He tries to protect his eyes while slowly retreating to the stairs. Knowing that his sabre is not of much use, he tries to smash the birds with his shield. 

The birds swiftly become a raging mass of squawking beaks and feathers and Relg is shocked by the fury of it. Even though his warshield gives ample protection, the Gargath still suffers many small scratches from the crows beaks although the number of broken, flopping shapes at his feet is slowly increasing. Relg retreats down below floor level and the birds break off their attack, squawking and jabbering at him with beady eyes. He slams the hatch down in case they follow and returns to the main room. 

..... 
 

Between the remaining militia men, Billy and himself, Coru searches the dead bodies for loot while listening to the Dwarven engineer, nodding to himself all the while. 

Between them, they find an iron key for the lock on the large chest, a good quality Mannish Dagger with Tigers-eye pommel, a small silver plain-band ring in the Uruk's pocket, a scattering of the very old coins from the larger chest; "perhaps the Uruk was using them to pay the Goblin's" suggests one of the militia men. 

Coru then picks up the dagger with the Tigers-eye pommel. He checks the edge of it for sharpness while saying to Froin with a grin: 
"Yes, I suppose you are right, Froin. We should take these items with us. They will be used for a better purpose with us than they will be here. And they are indeed impressive... But I still don't know if it is the right thing to do, stealing from the dead reminds me of the deeds of the Szreldor dogs." 

"You are right," says Relg coming into the room, brushing himself of feathers. "The way upstairs is blocked by that murder of crows. They seem intent upon preventing us access to the roof for some reason. I would like to know why. But first I want to see what manner of creature is blocking our way below." With that, he turns, not waiting for others to join him and heads for the stairs. 

Valdo speaks from behind him: 
"I hear you Lochan and know your grief and anguish but we cannot leave the man here and he cannot be killed defenseless like this. No, he must be tried for his treason in the ways of our law. You know it, Ranger. Somehow we must make sure he is delivered to Raigorn while at the same time we must get after those damn Szreldor." He rasps at his stubble thinking hard, before adding: 
"Patch him up Lochan and we'll get him down from that wall. I reckon he is too weak to protest or escape and the threat of going back up there should cow him into telling us what we need to know. I intend to get everything he knows about the Szreldor out of him before we leave. To be honest, it is a great gift to have Urmahd delivered to us in this way - bless that Elven woman for her visions! She truly predicted that the scoundrel escaped in the coffin of his own uncle. Incredible! I will not doubt her again. Now, I must see what is up below." And with this, the gaurdcaptain heads after Relg. 

While down below... 
 

<Having heard the scream from downstairs, Sealvach glanced briefly up to the next level of the tower, then quickly descended the ancient stone stairs two at a time. At the entrance to the gloomy central hall, his keen eyes quickly scanned the room for signs of the goblin intruders. Of them there was no sign. Nor was there any sign of the sturdy barbarian or Arekhel. Instead his gaze met a horrifying sight; much like a bearded and cruel faced man, but with eyes that burned with the fires of hell, the apparition held the now lifeless corpse of one of the other soldiers in one barely substantial hand, the man's eyes blank and staring, face a death mask of terror.> 

Despite himself, a deep shiver of fear passes through Sealvach as the creature spies him and leers evilly in his direction. The marrow of the Gambler's bones seem to freeze in abject terror at the thing and he backs up to the bottom steps. Beside him but a little ahead, the militia man is rooted to the spot, staring in wide eyed incomprehension at the thing he can feel more than see. It grins again at the pathetic Will of mortals and ripples towards the man, letting his dead companion topple to one side, a lifeless husk. 

The tall traveller's mind races as he struggles to control the overwhelming feeling to flee for his life and to recall what manner of apparition he faces. The words 'Wraith' and 'Wight' both seemd to describe the horror; a dark soul bound to the place it frequented in life, lusting only after the souls of the living. 

In a moment as the thing approaches, Sealvach knows that against its barely physical form, the weapon of the militia man before him will be useless and he tries to call out in aid, but his voice has already fled. But even then, part of his superior Elven mind continues to assess the creature as it reaches out towards the stricken soldier: 
"...even fire might not damage such a beast, so only strong magic or perhaps a ritual of banishment would save them now. Where was Arekhel?" he wonders, "Is this the evil she predicted?" 

At that moment, Relg appears round the curve in the stairs and immediately stops as he stares at the ominous shape below. His mind assesses the danger in a split second and his military mind diverts his thoughts away from the aspect and awesome power of the entity before them. Relg sees the death of the militia man imminent and the terror filled visage of Sealvach nearby and comes to a decision. 

Relg ignores the smoky cloud that is now solidifying into the rough shape of a humanoid figure and the wave of malicious intent emanating into the surrounding air and grabs Sealvach's shoulder. "Pull yourself together man! It can be overcome! We will find the way! Snap out I tell you!!" 

A grey and claw-like hand reaches out from the black mass to clutch at the silent figure before it and lifts the militia man with ease into the air before it. A glittering blade, about two feet long suddenly appears from the roiling shadows of the Wraith and sweeps back ready for a disembowling strike at the helpless man suspended before it but suddenly, the entity turns its wrinkled head in the direction of the forest outside. A hideous chuckle comes from it and seeps insideously into the guts of those who watch nearby. The voice can only be from beyond the Doors of Night, from the region of the Forsaken and the Dead. Sealvach's heart flips in his body, doubling it's rapid beats while the fire in Relg's soul flickers dim for a moment. 

As Arekhel sits, absently staring off into the forest, she hears a familiar voice call out to her. "Arekhel?  Arekhel." She recognises the voice. She turns her head slowly and from near to the building, a man comes towards her slowly with concern in his eyes. It is her beloved, Sgilti. 

Arekhel raises her unsteady eyes and slowly, a broad smile appears on her face. She stands up in slow motion and walks towards him. When near, she screws up her eyes in confusion and says in a low voice: 
"What are you doing here my darling? Why are you here? Did our nice Lorrelinde let you go and rescue us? Well, if that is the case, I think you are not the help we need..." she giggles and then, pointing at the swirling shadows filling the inside of the tower she adds: "We've found your shadow, there... and it is not very nice to us at all! Would you know where is the nearest Magician around here... could be useful indeed!!" She runs her hand through her hair and pulls them at the roots, shaking her head. She steps forwards towards Sgilti and rises her palm towards his cheek, without touching him. She says in a more normal voice: 
"Is it really you? You are not another trick apparition of this abomination? Why are you here, you were ill, you should not have come here." She blinks and tries hard to focus on him. 

The figure of Sgilti reaches out a hand to help the Elven woman enter the room as Gwalchmai somewhat behind her gives a warning shout. She does not notice as if in a trance and reaches out to take the offered hand, a hand that cannot be seen by all but her. Suddenly, Relg gives out a mighty bellow: 
"Arekhel, NO!!!" that shakes both her and Sealvach out of their momentary trances. The Elven woman suddenly sees through the apparition before her and spies the darkness beyond. Her mind is slow to react but she does not take the proffered hand. She knows that somehow this is not Sgilti before her but a figment sent to trick her and she recoils. The face of the thing before her peels back in a rictus of anger and hatred and dissolves into thin air. It is only then that Arekhel sees the true form of the Wraith and she stumbles back in sudden and abject terror from it, falling over the stones in her path, her only thought to run from the monstrous form that threatens to engulf her in eternal nighted damnation. 

As Relg draws his blade and steps forward somehow to protect Arekhel while shouting for Maleg, Sealvach beside him, draws the blade slung across his shoulders in a dream and steps from the bottom stair into the room. His left hand draws his long hunting knife from the folds of his cloak with practiced ease and the keen Elven blade seems to glitter faintly in the dim light as does the sword. 

The Wraith turns fully round, to bring the full might of it's vengeance down upon the woman staggering away and snarling, chucks the militia man across the room like a doll. The dull crunch as his body hits the wall, echoes in the split second before both Gargath leap to defend the woman and Valdo leaps the last few steps into the room behind them. Screaming in anger, Relg dives forward to intercept the creature and as he does so, his eyes notice a flickering upon the Wraith, as if another humanoid image were superimposed upon its cruel visage. Behind him, Sealvach finally comes to his senses as the power of the creature's fear is turned towards it's new assailants. 

The Gambler glances at the withered corpse which the spectre has casually tossed aside and intones in a deep and clear voice: 
"In the name of Manwe and Varda, Leave this place or face the wrath of the Valar's chosen." 

The Wraith sneers and turns away from its quarry for a moment to stare with hatred at the pitiable shape of the Elf coming towards it, sword raised. It reaches out a huge hand towards him and Sealvach gives a mighty but fearfilled shout: 
"O Elbereth! Gilthoniel! Guide thy servants hand!" And he swings his mighty Elven blade at the creature. A silent howl comes screaming from the creature as its hand recoils from him and turns the full attention of those doom-filled eyes and billowing shadows upon the bright figure of the Gambler.