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Harla's Tale: Heart of Fire	By : NiaraAfforegate Category: +G through L > Lord of the Rings Online, The Views: 2502 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is set in the universe created by Turbine, with permission from Tolkien Enterprises. I have no affiliation with either, and no such permissions. No money is made, and no ownership of LotRO, its universe, or related media is claimed.

Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
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Heat of Battle

As they reached the ruined wall of the old outpost, Harla saw a pair of Eglain standing guard at the main breach. Beyond, the humid, oppressive haze of the swamp was replaced by a sharp chill, no less unpleasant. Radagast nodded to the guards as he entered, immediately asking after Elsa. One man shook his head, though he kept his eyes and spear outward.
“No, wizard. Elsa, Eriac and many of the others have pushed on. They would not hold here, despite the elf-lady's warning. They were heartened by the ease with which we claimed Barad Dhorn, here, and by the thought of a potential ally, and they wouldn't be stopped.”
As he spoke Harla looked around the outpost, such as it was, and her breath caught at the sight of a ghostly shade, face a mask of stoic sadness, waiting passively in one corner. From what she could tell, the faded and transparent armour he bore marked him as very old indeed, from before the ruins they were in were ever ruined, at a guess. She noticed the other Eglain that remained here giving the figure as wide a berth as they could, and she didn't blame them at all. It wasn't the first dead spirit she had encountered, but that didn't make looking at the shade any easier. The man Radagast was talking to was still speaking and her attention drifted back to them for a moment.
“Ah, yes, yes Radagast. I'm sure those of us who remain here will be fine. The elf-lady said that no wight of the swamp would come here unless we provoked them. Won't cross the line of the walls unless we draw them to it. The, uhh, the spirit, uhm, Dannasen she called him, said they hold the outpost still, so long as their commander willed it.” His eyes darted to the shade in the corner, then away again quickly as he spoke, but Radagast's eyebrows drew down, fixing on something else.
“You've mentioned that a few times now, young man. I am not aware of any elves travelling in this region recently, and none reside any closer than the wilds of the Trollshaws. Whom do you speak of?”
“That would be me, old friend.” Harla heard the voice run through her head, smooth, gentle and enchanting, and turned about almost as abruptly as Radagast himself. The woman who stood before them bore the unmistakable natural beauty and grace of an elf, long black hair neat and perfect despite the surroundings and bright blue eyes that seemed to gaze through any that they looked at. She wore a simple but elegant blue gown and held a small harp in one hand as she smiled at them both. “It is good to see you again, Aiwendil.” The name gave Harla pause, though it was clear she was talking to Radagast, but when she continued a moment later the thought slipped away. “And hello to you as well, Harla. It is good to meet you in person this time, rather than through a letter.” There was an amused twinkle in her eyes as she glanced at the younger woman and Harla couldn't stop the edge of a guilty blush fighting its way through despite their situation. Radagast brightened, oblivious to the exchange.
“Khima! I did not know that you were still abroad in middle-earth. It has been a long time. I feel better about our predicament already, if you are here. And... you have met young Harla here? That is a fortunate coincidence. What brings you here?” Despite his sudden enthusiasm, Khima closed her eyes and shook her head softly, still smiling.
“I go where I am needed, and today I am needed here. I fear we have little time for catching up, old friend.” Here, she turned her eyes to Harla. “I have spoken with the shades that linger here, oathbound to a task they can never complete. They would help, but remain to hold this fort alone, at the bidding of their captain, Nevan. I go to treat with her now, but Elsa, Eriac and the others wouldn't wait. Go, and hurry, Harla. Do what you can to preserve them. Radagast and I will follow as soon as we can.” She nodded to her once and smiled then knelt down briefly and reached out to rest a hand on the small hobbit's shoulder not dissimilar to the way Radagast himself had before. For the briefest moment, Harla felt herself transfixed, unable to look anywhere but directly into the other woman's eyes. There was a sense of calm confidence in Khima's gaze and she felt it flowing through to her by extensions. “Hope runs with you.” When Harla nodded her head her features were set, determined, and the press of her aches seemed to have faded away, at least a little. Khima's hand squeezed for a moment and she stood upright again. “Good luck, young one. We will talk again when the danger has passed.”
With another brief glance towards Radagast, she inclined her head to him, then turned towards a path that led further into the ruins, striding away with only her harp in her hands. Radagast watched her for a moment then turned his eyes back to Harla.
“Fear not, little one. If Khima says she will do something, then it will be done. There are few outside my own order whom I would trust more. There is more I must do here, but it will not take long. Go now, hurry. The path through the ruins lies on the left, through that gate. That is surely the way they have gone!” He took a moment to point out the path to her as he spoke, before the old wizard was rushing away into the tower. Harla found herself feeling suddenly alone, despite the guards that huddled in the ruins protecting those who were already injured. She was alone, really; none of them were tasked as she was. She squared her shoulders and stepped out past the line of the outpost. It didn't matter, though; right now, there was no-one else expendable enough to risk what she could. Tiny, neat teeth clenched against each other as her steps quickened.
The swamp ground grew ever more unstable as she pushed onwards, her boots squelching on footholds that sank into the red water when she put her weight on them. The mud sucked and clung, slowing her progress, but before long she found the path leading into a set of ancient, dilapidated steps that climbed up from the murk. Even out of the red water, the sharp iron scent remained everywhere and Harla looked about as she reached the top of the stair. Between the sickly, withered trees the ruins sprawled but the walkway that ran along the top of the walls looked intact in most places. Moving faster now, Harla ran along the top of the wall, following the path it seemed Elsa and the others must have followed. The sounds of shouting and the unmistakable din of weapons clashing reached her ears and grew as she went, until she reached a scene that drew her to a sharp halt.
A large section of the ruin formed a flat stone table, almost a perfect circle save for a few parts where it had crumbled, and it was there that the party from Ost Guruth fought. Exactly what they fought pulled a small gasp from Harla as she flinched back. They looked like people; perhaps they had been once, but she could see decayed flesh and unhealed, grievous wounds on many of them. Some were little more than grotesquely animated skeletons, with fewer scraps of flesh remaining to them than they had remnants of cloth or armour. She had heard stories of dead bodies brought back to life for dark ends, and had even seen the shambling forms at a distance when she'd helped Radagast before, but neither the stories, nor those fleeting encounters had prepared her for the stench of rot that quickly overpowered her fear and filled her with a queasy, ill feeling. She tried not to breath too deeply as she braced herself and rushed forward.
The beset defenders had formed a half circle, facing the path and stairs that led to their position. Their backs were to the sheer edge of the platform, with several wounded in the space they held. Held, maybe, but not for long if she didn't help. The walkway she was on had a couple of creatures on it between her and the defenders, and more were climbing the pillars on either side. She raced past the ones still climbing and hefted her club in both hands, bringing it around with enough force to knock the body in front of her off the battlement before it could notice her. The next began to turn as her back-swing knocked its head from its shoulders with a sickening squelch. A moment later, a pike had erupted from the body and the defender on the other side heaved the corpse off the edge, freeing his weapon. The man looked down at Harla, confused and surprised, but he gave her a weary grin a moment later.
“Well, you're the last one I expected to see, young lady. Are the others coming?” The sudden hope in his eyes made her clench her teeth.
“Just me. Radagast is doing what he can, too, but just me here, for now.” Looking down at her, the defender covered his sigh with a quick resettling of his weapon and nodded to her all the same, but it still made her flinch. She was keenly aware, not for the first time, of just how small she looked to bigger folk. He nodded back over his shoulder. “We'll take every able hand we can get. Eriac's there, let him know you're here to help, then get to work!”
With a return nod, Harla darted past the man as he retook his place and over to where Eriac and Elsa fought side by side. Their position, opposite where she had entered the ring, was the worst beset; a wide set of steps there descended to the swamp below, giving the wights the swiftest and easiest path to them. They swarmed up the steps, but she could see more still dragging themselves up the sides of the stonework here too. She kicked at one as it emerged from between two of the decrepit columns, knocking its head off with a wet, ripping sound. It continue to move and scramble, but the force was enough to send it tumbling back into the red water below with a splash. More were coming still. Behind her, she heard a defender scream. Eriac didn't spare her a glance, but his words carried well enough over the din of fighting.
“I'd welcome you, little one, but I fear it may only be to your death.” He grunted with effort, casting another wight back down the steps towards the water, bowling two others back with it. “This begins to feel hopeless. No matter what we do they just get right back up again. Seems we may all die here.” Another shout behind her, somewhere else in the ring. Harla didn't have time to look, though, as several pairs of hands, some mere bone and others still with withered strips of flesh covering them, curled around the base of the pillar near her, pulling themselves up. Old and crumbling as it was, it shifted, then cracked. Stone splintered and broke overhead as the column tore away from the arch, its own weight shattering the ancient masonry. Pieces of stone gave, pulling free and sending the wights clinging to them back to the swamp, but the pillar itself toppled, falling across the stairway. She leapt back from it, crying a warning as she did, but Eriac moved too slowly. Beside her, Elsa looked around in sudden fear at the sound of his pained shout. Mostly clear, the pillar had still caught his ankle as it fell, and though the stone had broken into several pieces the man was still very much trapped.
In an instant, Elsa had abandoned her position in the ring to drop beside him, struggling to free his crushed ankle while Eriac fought to stifle the sounds of his agony. The dead didn't pause, more pulling themselves up from the murk even as others fell, and Harla threw herself into the gap left by the pair at the stairway. For a few moments, it was less fighting and more darting back and forth, knocking the monsters back, but with Elsa and Eriac both down, the stretch across the stairs was wide enough for several man-sized defenders, and she was only one, very small, hobbit. Soon she found herself backing towards where Elsa still worked, knocking apart corpses where she could, but giving ground as she struggled to hold the stair. More began to appear fully over the edges to either side and the other defenders were slowly being pushed in as well, the space between them and those too injured to fight dwindling.
They couldn't hold much longer. In what glimpses she could steal, it looked to Harla like there were more wounded or dead than fighting. She was beyond the line now, standing over Elsa and Eriac, perched on a piece of broken stone and doing her best to keep a space about the two. She wanted to shout for Elsa to hurry and get him free, but she knew the woman was going as fast as she could. One skeleton thrust at her before she could get her shield to it and she jumped instead. Her feet came down on the flat of the blade and she kicked viciously at its head before it could throw her off. To the left, her shield caught another sword that was more chips than edge, then an impact crashed into her other shoulder, numbing her arm so badly she nearly dropped her club. A sharp bolt of pain sinking deep into the shoulder said a spike of the weapon had pierced her mail, but she was already spinning about with a shout, bringing her still-tingling arm about in a broad sweep that forced the mace away and thrust the shambling, bloated creature back into the waiting pike of another defender. They couldn't keep this up... She couldn't keep this up, but the dead weren't tiring.
As another came on, the sound of a shriek reverberated through the swamp, growing louder just as a pale purple light burst upwards from somewhere else in the trees, before both faded and silence fell over the area. A ripple passed through the dead assaulting them, stilling them for a moment before their attacks continued. Another defender cried out, slow to recover from the surprise and they all fell desperately to arms again. As Harla blocked the time-aged weapon of another foe, she wondered if it could be a good sign; Radagast, or maybe Khima, doing something that might save them all, but she didn't dare to hope. Beside her, Elsa had finally shifted the last of the stones pinning Eriac down and was struggling now to drag him back to the main circle. Harla fell back with them, covering the pair until she fell back into line with the remaining defenders. The fight still seemed hopeless, but she snarled and swung her club with as much ferocity as she could manage.
She had just crushed the exposed skull of another when the sensation of icy fingers began to thread through the festering warmth of the swamp, sending a chill through her. She stole a glance about to find the source of whatever this new sorcery being sent against them was, but what she saw first was that she was now one of only four or five defenders still standing. Elsa had rejoined the fray, holding the rear bridge-way by herself, but as Harla looked her way she had to pause and look again. The chill was accompanied by a rolling fog, sweeping over the tainted ruins, and wherever it touched the animate corpses she saw glimpses of shadowy figures cutting them down. Those ones stayed down, and the fog rolled on. As it swept over them Harla braced herself, but the spectres passed by, seemingly interested only in the risen dead. She could hear the raspy moans of their breathing, the dry anger of their battle cries, but they called a name she didn't recognise, in a tongue she didn't know. A different presence behind her made Harla spin but a gentle hand on her shoulder stilled her again. The same sense of calm from before returned to her, almost seeming to soothe her aches as Radagast spoke.
“Well fought, and bravely, young Harla, but I fear you must leave this last part to me.” He patted her shoulder and smiled briefly before seriousness returned to his features. Quietly, Harla was relieved this time that the affectionate pat had been bestowed on her undamaged shoulder. “Thanks to Khima, the shades have been freed from their enslavement but Ivar, the blood-hand, is the root of the evil here, and he is my responsibility.” His voice was a strange mixture of sorrow, and something as close to true anger as she had ever heard the gentle old man get. She started to nod to him, but hesitated all the same.
The other defenders had drawn in, unsettled and fearful but grateful for a respite from fighting all the same. Harla ran forward to the edge of the ruin and looked out as the spectres pressed forward. She felt tired, but if the struggle wasn't over yet, then it wasn't over; surely she had to do something more still. Radagast was standing beside her a moment later.
“In ages past, Morgoth... a terrible evil... twisted enslaved Men and instilled them with fell spirits. These became the gaunt-men, but among them he selected five who would bear unimaginable power in mockery of the Wizards. Ivar was, in fact, made in mockery of me.” The concept that Radagast, and indeed Gandalf too, was a being as ancient and powerful as he said was still a bit much for Harla to fully grasp, but she nodded to him. “If I must have a confrontation with him here, we will test each other sorely before one of us retreats. Harla, the Eglain need to tend to their wounded, and to rest, and I think you should go with them... but I see you, and I know your answer. If you've the strength, I would appreciate your assistance for just a little longer. Ivar is not far from here, near the gates of Garth Agarwen to the north. He may not reveal himself immediately, so I may need to draw him forth first... but I would save what strength I may before confronting him. Will you aid me in this?” Harla had nodded again before really thinking about it. Today had unveiled one terror after the next, but if a wizard wanted her help with something serious, she wasn't about to tell him she was too tired. “Thank you, Harla. Again I say, Gandalf spoke true when he commended the spirit of your people.” She heard the old man draw a deep breath and let it out again. “Well, bring your rest to its end, my friend, for we must hurry.” She set herself, and stepped forward.
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- 7
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- 9
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Harla's Tale: Heart of Fire