My guiding focus with this raid was twofold. First, I wanted to make fights that are challenging and require a lot of communication and coordination (both within members of the raid, and also the two groups that make up the raid). That's what sets a raid apart from landscape quests and even most group content. You can't be 12 people running around doing whatever. You have to be a unit and act with a cohesive plan where everyone is doing their job. This allows your dozen organized characters to perform better than an unorganized group twice your size.
Dudae defeated the Legbarthil.
By Jeff ‘MadeOfLions’ Libby
Quest Notes!
Welcome once again to Quest Notes, the place to go for up-to-the-minute news on the latest and greatest in LOTRO questing! We’ve been busy whipping up a wide variety of content for the next update, and now it’s time to talk about some of what lies ahead. But first, a look back at the latest addition to Middle-earth: the mysterious relics that recently appeared throughout Eriador, causing quite a stir among heroes and villagers alike.
The brave warriors of Trucido have faced many challenges and fought many battles in the long years since their leader, Polyhymnia of the Golden Lute, brought them all together. They have ventured together deep into the evil citadels of Angmar, infiltrating the fortresses of Urugarth and Carn Dûm, the Tower of Barad Gúlaran, and even striking deep into the forgotten heart of the Rift of Nûrz Ghâshu. They have raided the ancient keep of Helegrod and faced the terrible creatures within. They have even ventured into the deepest depths of Khazad-dûm, confronting terrors long buried and never named. Their latest expedition took them into Mirkwood, where they invaded the Tower of the Necromancer at Dol Guldur.
The following is an excerpt from the journals of Narlindë, a Noldorin elf of Rivendell and one of the War Minstrels of the Trucido Kinship, detailing that invasion.
“…long we fought and hard-won was our progress up the tower of the Deceiver. Although ever ready to do battle with what meager skills I possess with club and sword, my voice and my harp are my true weapons. Often I have called upon Elbereth Gilthoniel to guide us; though the stars she set in the sky as our succor were blocked from our view, still I knew she was there. I watched as my companions faltered under the endless onslaught of the enemy, but my faith in the Flame Imperishable held fast and I sang my faith to my fellows, holding them upright by my music and banishing their despair.
“Up and up the tower we fought, past the captains and sorcerers of the Enemy, who tried through many cunning trials to defeat us and strip us of all hope of victory. Through the steadfast momentum of our Guardians and Wardens, ever pushing forward; with the constant rallying words and motivating speeches of our Captains; because of the skill and ingenuity of our learned Lore-masters and wily Burglars; from the massive skill at arms that our Champions and Hunters brought to bear; all supported by the poetry and song of our Rune-keepers and Minstrels, touching upon the wellsprings of the Ainur… finally, we made it past the armies and the traps. There, at the top of the Tower of Barad Guldur, we faced the Lieutenant of Sauron, second only to the Witch-king of Angmar in the counsels of the Deceiver, and his fell-beast Morskor, an evil of the first age from Angband.
“The cry of the fell-beast made us cower and the voice of the wraith shrouded us in gloom and dread. I looked into the sky, but there was a pall over the stars and I felt as if they had never been there at all. Then a great despair came over me and my voice stilled in my throat and my fingers turned to stone upon my harp. Around me, my fellows fell to their knees, eyes open and staring at the nightmares conjured by the Abyss, their spears and hammers forgotten. The Lieutenant screamed in triumph as he laid us low, one by one, and at the last only I stood alone, facing the darkness. With one last, desperate spark of hope, I threw myself to the ground and feigned that I, too, had fallen into a lethargy of despair, that I had died of fright and sorrow.
“When the beast and his master had gone, I rose from my death pose to survey our battlefield. Among the figures of my kneeling fellows, locked in place by despair, walked icy spirits conjured from their nightmares. Gently, without revealing my presence, I sung them to sleep and eventually they disappeared, these Morfaer. Then the work of reviving the spirits of my fellows began. Slowly, carefully, one by one I sang to my comrades, my friends, and restored to them the morale they had lost in the face of our defeat. With great care, our Captains spoke of our great cause, motivating us to continue. From our bags we brought out hearty foods to restore and fortify ourselves. Some brought out tokens of hope to serve as beacons to keep away the darkness.
“Finally, our preparations complete, we were ready and our Guardian cried out a challenge which the darkness answered and down flew the Lieutenant and his dread steed. Long was the battle, and hard. The corruption of our foe stung our flesh. How, we thought, can one fight a wraith fallen into shadow? Our weapons seemed blunt and our arms heavy as power and vitality drained from us and the beast chased us. But lo, we prevailed! In the end first the Lieutenant and then his fell steed were laid low and the shadow over our hearts passed away.
“Although Trucido had won the day once again, my thoughts turned to the future. I felt as if we rejoiced and rested within the clam before the storm. At the edges of my mind I felt a great fear hovering – something mired in burning poison and the filth of a diseased wound. Something was coming. I knew we had to be prepared. We had broken the power of Dol Guldur… but would our next challenge break us?”
