It was with a heavy heart that Lisca regarded the formidable structure in front of her. It was a bridge, the Last Bridge in fact, its span arching into the distance across the River Mitheithel. She knew that much from her map; but that was, truth be told, nearly the extent of her knowledge of the region beyond. The Trollshaws they were called and judging by the fleeing hunter that run past her in the opposite direction, the name was not an exaggeration.
Still, like most things Lisca did, she had good reason for stepping onto the bridge.
The ruins for one - the region was filled with them. The trolls would have scared away looters she reasoned, so the rewards for perservering were beyond imagining.
Second and perhaps the most important reason was to gain the acceptance of her new comrades. Having seen them in action a few days past, she had to admit that The Warband were everything she had hoped for - perhaps even more. She could not resist shuddering slightly at the memory of their terrible defence of the crown of Weathertop and her feeling that any one of these great warriors could swat her aside like a fly.
"Still," she said out loud as she squared her shoulders, "you held your nerve Lisca or I'm sure they would've shown you the door right then."
The mission that Khalis had set her was etched in her mind. He had commanded her to explore the Trollshaws and return with a report for the Officers on all the ruins that could be found within. He wanted each ruin described, named and a report on any items or features that the Warband may wish to investigate at a later date.
It had taken her several days of study in the Bree libraries to collate a list of names, copying out fragments here or there of travellers' accounts and historic records. She thought that she had the names straight now but just hoped she could produce an accurate report for the Officers. She had no doubt that the Elves, wise in lore, would be quick to point out any errors in matching names to her notes.
"Especially that Ridaran.." she thought to herself, scowling, reminded of his cutting comments following the earlier battle. "He's got it in for anyone that isn't an Elf, I shouldn't wonder!"
She reached into a scroll case and retrieved one of the old maps for a final study and she was glad she did, for the musty smell of aged parchment in her nostrils was enough to firm her resolve.
Running quickly up to the arch of the bridge she loooked out over the Trollshaws before her and caught sight of a stern but fair Elven face gazing up at her from a woman on the other side. Reminded of her new kinfolk and the trust they had placed in her, she whistled for her companion and strode off into the trees without a backward glance.
