Lilleduil pulled the silk gauze from over her eyes, since she was safely under the cover of the trees, and looked up the hill at Akûltot. Yes, the goblin settlement had spread further than the border she’d noted the last time she’d been up here, creeping like some leprous fungal growth down the slope. The goblin activity was subdued in the bright daylight, but there was still some bustle in the camps.
It was simple, really. When Lord Ambassador Parnard expressed his concerns about goblins rising to overwhelm the valley and one was the only member of the Warband present, then one was obligated to bring such concerns to one’s superiors. And when one couldn’t find said superiors, the next best thing to do was to check things out for oneself, to determine the nature and extent of the threat.
Which was why Lilleduil had been up in the Hithaeglirs for several days now, slipping quietly up and down valleys to spy in the more conventional manner and listening as well to the creatures of the wild, who told their own tale of doom. No, she was not a scout, but she had wandered alone in many lands, and one who had become kin to the Lossoth knew well how to handle herself in snow, particularly when said Lossoth had gifted her with the undergarments made of the precious downy undercoat of the Aurochs. Between those and the spider silk next to her skin and the fur lined coat, she was almost too warm, even with the cold camps she‘d been keeping.
Lilleduil had not met a lot of the elves both newly come and long resident of Imladris, though she‘d grown up there herself. She’d kept to the stables and the library and mostly to the valley itself. For most of her life a social creature by necessity only (though she liked to dance), since becoming a full-fledged member of the Warband, she found that necessity had become much more frequent. And perhaps practice did make perfect for she‘d been surprised to find herself actually enjoying her conversation with Lord Dolthafaer in the Hall of Fire that night. He was a warrior as well, and they’d shared a certain professional camaraderie. She suspected he’d known exactly what she was going to do when she left the company so quickly.
And she certainly didn’t know this Lord Estarfin. From what little she had heard, for some reason the lord had decided to go forth one day and attempt to single-handedly exterminate Goblin-town. While apparently having achieved a commendable dent, the conclusion to the endeavor had been foregone, and said lord now lay sorely wounded at Imladris.
If one wants to go West, there are easier ways to go about it, she thought to herself with a somewhat waspish mental snort. I hear there are boats and everything! It was not that she didn’t understand the impulse, the desire to daunt the Enemy with the shining prowess of the Firstborn. Young and reckless herself, she’d been luckier with her fey moment of glory. It had died outside of Barad Gularan-fortunately without taking her with it.
Estarfin had been whacking the hornet’s nest for a while now, judging from a display of goblin heads she’d come across. But even that would not have caused the activity she was seeing, the movements her eagle-friend Lithroval, with his aerial viewpoint, was reporting. What the other creatures were telling her, and the tell-tale silence where certain small voices had used to be.
Wargs. The warg numbers were up everywhere she went, at Frosthyle, the Giant’s Halls and here. And they were well on the way to eating through everything in the region. She’d seen very few deer. Her lynx friends were already feeling the pinch and some of them had been slain as well. The bears knew their days were numbered. Some animals had actually begun to flee the area, though Lilleduil did not know if there was any place they could truly find succor in these dark times.
Wargs. They would eat the rabbits, the foxes, the lynxes, the small things. Then the deer and elk. Then they’d pack up and go for the bears. And after that, the goblins themselves…
The goblins knew this. So they’d be moving before that happened, moving to where there was food aplenty-the valley of Imladris and its flocks and herds. Most likely by mid-winter at the latest.
She had seen enough. Lilleduil pulled her snow-mask up over her eyes and set off for Hrimbarg and her horse.
Khalis needed to be told.
