Board Thread:Forum Roleplays/@comment-9854464-20150605152335/@comment-9854464-20150608004808

Now, where was Indurin? He had actually gone far ahead. By the time the group had reached the Gladden river, he had reached the parallel of The Carrock. He had not slept for over a week, and rarely stopped. Within the next fortnight he had reached Mount Gundabad. He picked up the Orc pack's trail, and was able to discern that some were heading west towards Angmar, and others, more it seemed, were heading east towards Mirkwood. He sat down and made a fortified camp. He set up a tripwire, and rigged his crossbows to it. He finally slept high up on the mountain, you wouldn't have seen him but for part of his tent, and only if you stared long enough in the right place. After two days of sleep and snow, he awoke. He was still alone. He used his spiked shoes and gloves (his secret to climbing) to travel both up and down. He couldn't decide which orc pack to follow, both had had the ring at sometime or another. He suspected there had been a fight for it, which was supported by the corpses he found under a pile of dead leaves and snow. He figured it was best to wait for the rest of the group. "I hope Goros breaks his neck trying to get up to me," he muttered his breath looking like the steam off a kettle. He sat outside his tent looking south miserabely. For the first time in his life he wished he wasn't alone. But the group was only where he had been a week before, forty leagues south of Langwell. But they nor he knew where the other was. Plus, they may not go to Mount Gundabad. He was really in a pickle.