Only the rustling of the leaves could be heard all around him as Amrath silently moved through the trees in Evendim, heading for Ost Heryn, trying to remain hidden in the foliage, wearing his dark brown cloak and hood. It didn’t take him long to see the thin line of smoke somewhere near the ruin. It also didn’t take him long to get there and see a small fire, barely burning, not giving signs of its existence, and six or seven men around it, talking seriously, their faces were apparently in deep thoughts. One of them seemed to be tall with dark hair, looking at them through his long hair that covered parts of his face, he was half wrapped in his torn cloak and narrowed his eyes for a moment.
“It’s an opportunity for us to get some gold; we can’t go on like this.” Said the tall man, turning his head from left to right, some of the others nodded but a man to his left, frowned and took a deep breath before starting to talk. “It is a good opportunity, but what tells us that we can trust them? They have hunted us before… Those red-cloaked bastards… They can use us and get rid of us.” he said making others nod in agreement with his words. “What do they want again?” he asked and lifted his right hand, so that his chin would lean against his fist as his eyes fixed on the fire. “They want us to go to the Dourhands in Kheledul and transport something, looking like traders, we’ll pass through the Shire and Bree-land and meet those men in Annundir.” Responded the first man and the conversation went on and on until all the men agreed to do it.
All this troubled Amrath greatly, he didn’t know who those red cloaked men were but he had his suspicions about the matter. First of all he had to see what was going on in Kheledul, without waiting for the morning he returned to his camp running and mounted his horse. He knew he should not stop until he would reach his destination and spurred the horse to go faster. He changed five or six horses in order to make it there in time. Each time a horse was getting tired and he was passing by a settlement he would change horses, taking the rested one each time. He reached Ered Luin some hours before the dawn and dismounted the horse, he tied it to a tree nearby and walked as fast as he could North, getting as close to the fort as possible. He could hear the sounds of the anvils from afar and he tried to get closer and higher if possible.
Struggling, due to his exhaustion, he managed to get on a hill and look into the fort as best as he could, the patrols and guards had doubled and the workers were going back and forth, carrying tools and metals, working hard. Suddenly near the gate he caught glimpse of three men among a group of Dwarves, men dressed red cloaks, the hoods covering their faces. Amrath’s eyes narrowed at that, seeing that it was what he hoped that wasn’t happening. He also saw the Dwarves shaking hands with one of the men, before the three mounted their steeds and disappeared into the night with great speed. “Dourhands and brigands working with Angmarim…” he thought and curses formed into his mind at the thought. “I can’t do this alone, I will need help, but I must return…” and walked back to his horse, his intent to return to his camp and send a letter, informing an old friend of that. He knew that he would help at once. He walked back to the horse, feeling exhausted, he could not run anymore, he needed rest, he could hear the echoes of the anvils of the Dourhands into the night until he gained some distance.
Back in Kheledul the Dourhands were working hard and making their final preparations, they were promised great rewards and to see their dreams fulfilled and they couldn’t stand back. The time for their glory was here and they would get it, Angmar would help them and they would help Angmar…
