Marching Towards Annuminas : a mysterious man called Talbert

*** Thandanar's writings :***
We met at the turn of dusk, with the golden red light catching the ancient walls of the once proud Arthedain city.
It has been a week since Captain Belenir left Esteldin to escort the forces of Gondor and their supplies to Annuminas, and in that time Minaiadan has taken charge, using the scouts under Aledoras’ command to keep track of enemy movements. His primary focus, however, has been finding allies. Disturbing reports from the scouts show that the forces of Angmar are amassing a force to conquer the North-Downs once more, and Esteldin does not have the numbers to match theirs. When I spoke to Minaiadan the other day, he had been drafting up plans to talk to the Elves of Lin Giliath to the south and the Dwarves of Othrikar to the north, close to the ruin of Ost Galumar, where the Dourhands were keeping the Rangers hostage. It was with hope, he said, that they would be able to provide reinforcements for the inevitable conflict ahead. Minaiadan chose to confer with the Elves first, who had been having trouble with an Orc camp not far from Lin Giliath. Anyway, the plan was to attack the camp at night and scatter the Orcs within.
The force consisted of myself, Minaiadan, Aledoras, the Ranger Anarlosse, a mysterious man known only as Talbert, and a couple of dwarves from the Blue Mountains Regiment, whom Belenir has a close relationship with. We rode under the cover of darkness, to not immediately alert the enemy to our presence. Immediately I could sense something was wrong. A herd of aurochs just of the path had become… something else. Their flesh rotten, their eyes glazed over, yet they were still standing. The poor creatures. They should not have to suffer like this.
.
The Camp lay ahead countless orcs huddling around fires and sheltering from the rain under crude tents. Our action was fast and decisive, and soon the only orcs left were those kneeling before a larger one, their chief, I could assume. Though they outnumbered us in numbers, we outnumbered them in skill, and as their banners burned, we took trophies of our victory to present to the Elves. It made me curious as to what the Orcs were doing. Some fell-ritual, perhaps? I suppose it is best not to dwell on it.
We met at the turn of dusk, with the golden red light catching the ancient walls of the once proud Arthedain city.

We rode for Lin Giliath, where we met with, Silefalas, a representative for the Elves that Minaiadan had been in touch with. Though she was impressed with the party’s efforts, she was unwilling to send reinforcements unless a greater threat had been dealt with; Trolls. A large group of them recently made home in a cave beyond the ruins of Merenost, and with the aid of the dwarves we would need to collapse it. Simple enough on the surface, however one should not underestimate trolls in large numbers. It was by this point we were joined by Dragnar, a Dwarf hailing from the frozen lands to the north, who joined us in our search for the trolls.

Long into the night we rode, past the ancient ruins of Merenost, once known to the Arthedain as Ost Ardúlin. Minaiadan suggested that I take a closer look at the ruins once we completed our task, and I know I will do so even whilst writing this. 

We found the cave nestled within the forests of Taur Gonwaith, though to our surprise, it was not just trolls who stood by the entrance. Men of the Hills and a hooded ma clad in red and black faced us with looks of malice. There was a fell aura around the hooded man. “A man of Angmar”, Anarlosse said, “They leave the stench of evil wherever they go.” He set the Men of the Hills upon us, though with our combined forces, they stood no chance against us. Likewise, most of the trolls appeared untrained for battle, and thus … the last troll, however, was a different beast entirely. Overcome by rage, its eyes burning red, its bellow that echoed cross the forest was enough to chill the blood of any man. The Angmarim watched on with a twisted smile upon his face. Some fell sorcery was driving the troll, of that I am certain. It fought hard, dealing harsh blows, nearly squashing Master Thonin, one of the Blue Mountains Dwarves. I did not see what broke the troll from his trance, but when it saw the fight was not in its favour, it fled. The Angmarim also attempted to flee, but not before getting injured in the process before he too escaped.
With the cave collapsed, and more trolls approaching, we rode hard back to Lin Giliath, where our efforts finally paid off. The Elves agreed to send soldiers and archers to aid Esteldin. The party will be resting here for a few days before we ride to Othrikar to seek aid from the Dwarves. With the Hand’s Dwarven allies, hopefully an agreement can be reached.