Aragorn had brought torches from Dunharrow, and now he went ahead bearing one aloft; and Elladan with another were at the rear, and Odin and Folco, stumbling behind, striving to overtake him.  He could see nothing but the dim flame of the torches; but if the company halted, there seemed an endless whisper of voices all about him, a murmur of words in no tongue that he had ever heard before.
Nothing assailed the company nor withstood their passage and yet steadily fear grew on the Hobbit as he went on: most of all because he knew now that there could be not turning back; all the paths behind were thronged by an unseen host that followed in the dark.
So time unreckoned passed, until Folco saw a sight that he was ever afterwards loth to recall.  The road was wide, as far as he could judge, but now the company came suddenly into a great empty place, and there were no longer any walls upon either side.  The dread was so heavy on Odin that he could hardly walk.  Away to the left something glittered in the gloom as Aragorn’s torch drew near.  Then Aragorn halted and went to look what it might be.
‘Does he feel no fear?’ muttered the Dwarf.  ‘In any other cave Odin Ori’s son would have been the first to run to the gleam of gold.  But not here!  Let it lie!”

Aragorn knelt while Elladan held aloft both torches.  Before him were the bones of a mighty man.  He had been clad in mail, and still his harness lay there whole; for the cavern’s air was as dry as dust, and his hauberk was gilded.  His belt was of gold and garnets, and rich with gold was the helm upon his bony head face downward on the floor.  He had fallen near the far wall of the cave as now could be seen, and before him stood a stony door closed fast: his finger bones were still clawing at the cracks.  A notched and broken sword lay by him, as if he had hewn at the rock in his last despair.
Aragorn did not touch him, but after gazing silently for a while he rose and sighed.  ‘Hither shall the flowers of simbelmynë come never unto the world’s end,’ he murmured.  ‘Nine mounds and seven there are now green with grass, and through all the long years he has lain at the door that he could not unlock.  Wither does it lead?  Why would he pass?  None shall ever know!
‘For that is not my errand!’ he cried, turning back and speaking to the whispering darkness behind.  ‘Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years!  Speed only we ask.  Let us pass, and then come!  I summon you to the Stone of Erech!’

There was no answer, unless it were an utter silence more dreadful than the whispers before; and then a shill blast came in which the torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.  Of the time that followed, one hour or many, Folco remembered little.  The others pressed on but since Odin was ever hindmost, pursued by a groping horror that seemed always just about to seize him, Folco chose to stay back with him.  A rumour came after them like the shadow-sound of many feet.  Odin stumbled on until he was crawling like a beast on the ground and felt that he could endure no more.  Rolling his eyes, Folco reached down and grabbed the dwarf by the collar and tried to wrench him up with little success.  The attempt, however, managed to get Odin to at least stand, leaning against the hobbit.
Suddenly they heard the tinkle of water, a sound hard and clear as a stone falling into a dream of dark shadow.  Light grew, and lo! the company passed through another gateway, high-arched and broad, and a rill ran out beside them; and beyond, going steeply down, was a road between sheer cliffs, knife-edged against the sky far above.  So deep and narrow was that chasm that the sky was dark, and in it small stars glinted.  Yet as Folco after learned it was still two hours ere sunset of the day on which they had set out from Dunharrow; though for all that he could tell it might have been twilight in some later year, or in some other world.
The Company now mounted again, and Folco returned to Halbarad.  They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep blue dusk; and still fear pursued them.  Elrohir turning to speak to Odin looked back and the dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf’s bright eyes.  Behind them rode Glorfindel, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.
‘The Dead are following,’ said Elrohir.  ‘I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night.  The Dead are following.’
‘Yes, the Dead ride behind.   They have been summoned,’ said Glorfindel.

The Company came at last out of the ravine, as suddenly as if they had issued from a crack in the wall; and there lay the uplands of a great vale before them, and the stream beside them went down with a cold voice over many falls.
‘Where in Middle-earth are we?’ said Odin; and Elladan answered: ‘We have descended from the uprising of the Morthond, the long chill river that flows at last to the sea that washes the wall of Dol Amroth.  You will not need to ask hereafter how comes its name: Blackroot men call it.’
The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces of the mountains.  Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that hour, for the sun had gone, and far below the lights twinkled in the homes of Men.  The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.
Then without turning Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: ‘Friends, forget your weariness!  Ride now, ride!  We must come to the Stone of Erech ere this day passes, and long still is the way.’  So without looking back they rode the mountainfields, until they came to a bridge over the growing torrent and found a road that went down into the land.
Lights went out in the house and hamlet as they came, and doors were shut, and the folk that were afield cried in terror and ran wild like hunted deer.  Ever there rose the same cry in the gathering night: ‘The King of the Dead!  The King of the Dead is come upon us!’
Bells were ringing far below, and all men fled before the face of Aragorn; but the Grey Company in their haste rode like hunters, until their horses were stumbling with weariness.  And thus, just ere midnight, and in darkness as black as the caverns in the mountains, they came at last to the Hill of Erech.

Long had the terror of the Dead lain upon that hill and upon the empty fields about it.  For upon the top stood a black stone, round as a great globe, the height of a man, though its half was buried in the ground.   Unearthly it looked, as though it had fallen from the sky, as some believed; but those who remembered the lore of Westernesse told that it had been brought out of the ruin of Nùmenor and there set by Isildur at his landing.  None of the people of the valley dared to approach it, nor would they dwell near; for they said that it was a trysting-place of the Shadow-men and there they would gather in times of fear, thronging round the Stone and whispering.
To that Stone the Company came and halted in the dead of night.  Then Elrohir gave to Aragorn a silver horn, and he blew upon it; and it seemed to those that stood near that they heard a sound of answering horns, as if it was an echo in deep caves far away.  No other sound they heard, and yet they were aware of a great host gathered all about the hill on which they stood; and a chill wind like the breath of ghosts came down from the mountains.  But Aragorn dismounted, and standing by the Stone he cried in a great voice:
‘Oathbreakers, why have ye come?’
And a voice was heard out of the night that answered him, as if from far away:
‘To fulfil our oath and have peace.’
Then Aragorn said: ‘The hour is come at last.  Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me.  And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart for ever.  For I am Elessar, Isildur’s heir of Gondor.’
And with that he bade Halbarad unfurl the great standard which he had brought; and behold! it was black, and if there was any device upon it, it was hidden in the darkness.  Then there was silence, and not a whisper nor a sigh was heard again all the night long.  The Company camped beside the Stone, but they slept little, because of the dread of the Shadows that hedged them round.
But when the dawn came, cold and pale, Aragorn rose at once, and he led the Company forth upon the journey of greatest haste and weariness that any among them had known, save he alone, and only his will held them to go on.  No other mortal Men could have endured it, none but the Dùnedain of the North, and with them Odin the Dwarf, Glorfindel of the Elves and Folco of the Hobbits.
They passed Tarlang’s Neck and came into Lamedon; and the Shadow Host pressed behind and fear went on before them, until they came to Calembel upon Ciril, and the sun went down like blood behind Pinnath Gelin away in the West behind them.  The township and the fords of Ciril they found deserted, for many men had gone away to war, and all that were left fled to the hills at the rumour of the coming of the King of the Dead.  But the next day there came no dawn, and the Grey Company passed on into the darkness of the Storm of Mordor and were lost to mortal sight; but the Dead followed them.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:21, Mon 02 Nov 2009.