Once the Orcs are defeated, the company can tend to their wounds and the wounds of the escaped prisoner. The slave introduces himself as Walar, a Woodman. He
tells his tale desperately, the words spilling out of him, as though trying to make up for months of isolation in a minute of companionship.

He recognised Magric the moment he saw him, for Magric betrayed him too – the trapper told Walar that he had found a cache of treasure in the marsh, and that he needed Walar’s help to recover it. The pair went into the marshes, and Magric handed him over to the Orcs. For long months, now, he suffered as a slave of the Orcs on the Dwimmerhorn. The fortress is not far away.

What were you doing there?

“They made us repair the walls of the fort, and to work in the smithy, making weapons for the Orcs. They whipped us without reason, tortured us… they made us suffer for sport!”
How many Orcs were there? What else lives there?

“I don’t know how many Orcs there were. A great many. There were Men, too, not as many. And in the temple… there was something else, something horrible. It… was a watchful shadow. It hated us. It delighted in our torment.”


“On the north side of the rock, there is a stone building. They never let us see beyond its doors, but I heard whispers from within. The dead dwell there, I am sure of it! I do not know what evil they wreak there, but… please, no, don’t make me remember!”

How did you escape?

“When I was repairing one of the side walls, I saw that there was a narrow goat path down the side of the rock, on the far side from the main road. I waited for weeks until I had my chance. Two of the Orcs began quarrelling over some petty matter, and while they brawled, I jumped over the wall and climbed down the cliff. I nearly fell, but luck was with me, and I reached the bottom alive. A sentry spotted me, and I fled, and they have been on my heels ever since.”