“Hullo, merry friends! Maedhroc Thornhollow here, with more dispatches from the bounds.

First, it’s Spring Festival time!

Duty is duty, but even the most stalwart keeper of the peace must be allowed to enjoy the fruits of his labor from time to time. So it was that I rode to sunny Bree to enjoy the new Hedge Maze. Quite impressive, and fun to boot. I managed to get my maze-racing time down to just over two minutes, much to the annoyance of the “maze-master” who sent me in there. And I won quite a nice trophy!

How do you like my festival hat?

Someone must have had a little too much Festival Wine, because they’ve been sending me a never-ending stream of blueberry tart recipes in the mail, signed “A Secret Admirer.” Honestly, if you’re out there, I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t cook worth a tarnished penny and all these recipes are wasted on me.

I have a sneaking suspicion it may be Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

Eventually, the fun was over and it was back to work. I joined several members of the Valar Guild on a foray into the depths of Garth Agarwen, to finally confront and, if possible, redeem the Red Maid, once known as the river-daughter Naruhel. It was no easy task, as centuries under the dark influence of Angmar and Mordor had made her a creature of the most fell power.

Corrupted and evil yes … but she was still more polite than the Blue Lady of Evendim.

The fight was long and bitter; at the end she seemed to melt away into a pool of water, leaving only her dress behind. Being a tailor in my off-time, I claimed this for study.

Interesting … er … weave?

I returned to Rivendell for a new mission and found myself sent to the abandoned dwarf-city of Helegrod, where the Nazgul I’ve been chasing for what seems like months had finally been tracked to.

This can’t be good. Even a Nazgul should know to let dead dragons lie!

No, no, we’ll have none of that. CHARGE!

Remember ME, Mister Undead King? I’ve come a long way since our first meeting in the Shire! Back to your master in Mordor!

Oh no you don’t! *BOOT!*

I wish I could say we were completely victorious; it’s true we sent the Nazgul fleeing home to Barad-dur, but the dragon Thorog was raised as a wight and flew off to wreak who-knows-what-havoc? I hate unfinished business, and I’m sure I’ll return to Helegrod sooner or later to deal with this ten-ton loose end.

Nevertheless, ridding Eriador of the Nazgul has provided a bit of respite and allows us to hopefully start making some headway against the enemies of the Free Peoples. In Rivendell, I was asked to see Mr. Frodo, Lord Aragorn, and the rest of their party off on a mission of some particular importance which had been waiting for this opportunity, although I’m sketchy at best on the details. I gather they’re headed south … possibly to escort Boromir back to Gondor?

Er … you are joking, right Mr. Bilbo?

Little did I know that I was shortly to follow them to Eregion. But that tale will have to wait, as this letter is getting quite long, and I must leave you now to help a party of dwarves who hope to reclaim their ancestral home of Khazad-Dum.

Your friend in the Shire,
Honourary Shirriff Maedhroc Thornhollow”

Okay, so it’s not as big a deal since Moria came out, but I’m still excited: my lil’ hobbitey warden reached 50th level last night. He also (thanks to the Auction House) gathered all the pages of his first book (Bullroarer’s Boy, how appropriate!) and gained his first legendary trait.

He’s also been defeated more in the past two sessions of play than in the past two months put together. 0.o The game has definitely gotten tougher! Not bang-my-head-on-the-monitor hard as it was with Galadhalion, but it definitely demands that I be more careful in my approach. Individually, I can take on orange elites and expect a fairly smooth victory — but against a bunch of normal-level foes, two blues and a white can take me down fast. I just can’t self-heal quickly enough to make up for the huge chunks of health blown away by being mobbed, especially if I also try to do damage. Spamming my health leech chain sometimes works, but it’s always iffy. And if an add comes wandering up (as they often do), or even randomly spawns right in the middle of the fight (as they also often do), I’m looking at a quick trip to Dread City.

Something I’ve learned with my warden, however, is not to attempt to flee. If things look bad enough that running is my best bet, the fight is already lost. I’ll get about ten steps away and be killed by the “stick-it-to-you” free attack monsters get when you reach the edge of their threat range. And with self-heals going, however feebly, you can occasionally pull out a victory by still have 5 morale at the end when your foe has 0. One of the warden mottos is, “Don’t run away, you’ll just die tired.” It applies to us equally as well as to our foes. (Which is not to say that I don’t kite occasionally, but in a mob-heavy area that can be even more dangerous than standing still and duking it out if you kite yourself right into another mob’s aggro zone. It’s a tactic that must be chosen with care.)

I’m currently working Echad Dunann, so I’m getting pretty close to entering the Hollin Gate instance and picking up my first legendary weapon. Once that’s done, it’s back to Angmar for my class quest and Vol. I, Book VII. Town-Saver’s Armour, I’m cominagetcha!

-The Gneech

“Hullo, my friends! ’tis Maedhroc, at your service. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to catch up with my correspondence, but since my initial foray into the Tomb of Elendil, it seems like it’s been a never-ending run with barely time to stop and smoke a little leaf from time to time. Where to begin?

I suppose it should be Rivendell, where I was given the singular honor of attending a ceremony of no small significance.

Lord Aragorn (yes, yes, I know, but I’m convinced now) invited me to attend as thanks for my part in delivering the elfstone needed. I notice with some amusement that there are more hobbits there than men.

While in Rivendell, I decided to do some sightseeing.

By the order of Lord Elrond, I was allowed into Imlad Gelair, a kind of “secret valley within the secret valley,” usually only accessible by elves or elf-friends. I must say, while I was touched, I’m also a bit overwhelmed at all these important personages treating me with such kindness. I’m just a Bounder, after all. But I did make sure to dress for the occasion.

I also had a reunion with some old friends whom I hadn’t seen for far too long. They seemed a bit reluctant to catch up on old times, tho.

Of course, it wasn’t all vacation in Rivendell. A Bounder’s work is never done, least of all mine. Lord Elrond asked me to find a gift for his daughter, the Lady Arwen, left by Lady Celebrian before she sailed to the West, which was hidden in a vault somewhere in the Trollshaws. Fortunately, the entrance to the vault was well-marked.

Well, that’s handy!

From there, I found myself helping a hunter track down a most peculiar, rather smelly, and unprofitable beastie. My friend Galadhalion told me about this fellow; I’m surprised to see they’re still chasing each other after all this time.

What “we”? There’s only the two of us here, thanks to Wistan’s conveniently turned ankle.

What ARE you going on about, you weird little man?

He eventually managed to scramble up a cliffside and get away, after sicking an orc on me. Little pest!

Before heading back out to the wilderness, Gandalf asked me to have a chat with Mr. Frodo, who was feeling a little moody. I told him what news I had of The Shire, such as the restoration of the Quick Post, and rousting “the ghost of the Old Took” from the Great Smials … but he didn’t seem much interested.

He rather surprised me with what I thought was a strange question.

“Adventurer?” I’m no adventurer, Mr. Frodo. I’m simply a keeper of the peace. Someone has to do it, after all!

From there, it was back out to the wilds. You may remember Longbough, the treeherder I spoke of in a previous letter? He asked me to join an expedition to help him destroy a huorn whose heart had turned black with hate. It was a sad job and a hard one — trees get mean when they’re mad — but we managed to put the poor creature down.

Not too long after that, I found myself in Angmar again (Wardens are always on the go!), where I confronted several … creatures … of a most unwholesome cast.

Um, Miss? You may wish to put on some clothes before you attempt to wage war upon the Free Peoples. Also, why does it look like you’re attempting to flourish the words “Root Vegetable”?

Upon returning to the Shire, I found myself with more coin in my pocket than I ever expected to see in my lifetime. And so I did something I once thought I would never do … I bought myself a lovely little burrow in the Southfarthing.

My old gaffer lives right up the road in Michel Delving, and I still visit him often and stop in at the Mathom Society House, or pop in to the Bird and Baby for a little something when I can. But these days, after so many harrowing experiences on the road, I find myself thinking that one of the most pleasant things in the big old world, is to relax on the porch with a good pipe full of leaf and watch the twilight come rolling in.

There’s more, much more to tell you, but the hour draws late and I must return to Angmar come the morrow, so I’ll draw to a close here. I hope this finds you safe and well.

Your Friend In the Shire,
Honourary Shirriff Maedhroc Thornhollow”

This weekend was the first real test — could Maedhroc succeed where Galadhalion failed? And the answer was not just “yes,” but “#@%% YEAH!!!”

Specifically the “Goblin Fire” quests near Goblin-Town. You’re tasked with making your way into the goblin encampment, stealing five goblin-fire pots, coming up with a brew to sabotage them, then going in and blasting the camp to kingdom-come. However, this goblin camp is not what you’d call “sparsely populated.” In fact, there are goblins everywhere, not just standing in regular posts, but wandering all over the place. If you attack one, you’ll end up fighting five every time — the one you attack, the two that are in aggro range of that one, and the two that come wandering up to the fight 3/4 of the way through. Nevertheless, this is listed as a level 45 solo quest.

Uh huh.

Galadhalion couldn’t do it. He was defeated time and again, but every time he’d start to get anywhere near the fire-pots, he’d be swarmed with goblins and go down hard. He tried it at 45. He tried it at 46. He tried it at 47, 48, and 49. He tried it at 50. Same result every time, the only difference being that the repair bills got larger as his gear got more expensive. He did finally manage to do it at level 52, duoing it with a burglar, I think it was. (Been a long time.)

So last night Maedhroc, at level 46, decided to give it a go. It took care and effort — timing his pulls, watching for patrols and working out when it was safe to move — but he got all the way in, picked up the requisite fire-pots, and got all the way back out again, without a single defeat. He only had to flee once, and that was from a bad pull (”Curse you, tab key!”) — and even that was just running to a pre-discovered “safe spot” until the goblins chasing him gave up on it.

Same player, same strategies — the difference is all in the class. I’m willing to concede that I may just suck at playing champions; but since I’ve been playing Maedhroc, every other class seems painful. With the warden, I finally feel like I have a realistic shot at doing on-level content without getting wiped over and over again hoping for a lucky roll of the dice.

Warden FTW.

-The Gneech

Big thanks to my kin-mates who made a point of being available at the designated time, and to everyone who came along or offered to. I’m so glad to have this off my to-do list — Evendim is DONE until Book 11 for me now.

Great googily-moogily but that fight is insane, and the entire quest seems to have been written by somebody who hates the players. It’s most visible in the dialog of Blue Elf-Chick, who demands you “respect” her while she treats you like dirt, then berates you for waking Narnagol when the quest WON’T LET YOU GET THE STONE ANY OTHER WAY.

Gah. Annoying quest, that is. Being present at the forging of Anduril afterwards made up for it and was very cool, tho, so I won’t complain too much. And at least now I can say that I’ve done it … and look forward to helping out other folks who were just as stuck on it as me in the future.

-The Gneech

o/`
In the middle of the Earth
in the land of the Shire
was born a scrappy little hobbit
who had a heart of fire
With a long pointy stick
and an aggro-grabbin’ yell
he gives The Boot to his enemies
and sends ‘em straight to hell, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!

Now hobbits are peace-lovin’
folk ya know
but sometimes there are monsters
and they’ve got to go
So Maedhroc hunkers down
and he chucks his spear
then he teaches all those goblins
’bout the Wages of Fear, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!

Well he battled with bandits!
He ambushed some trolls!
He riddled with Bilbo!
Some giants’ Lucky Stone he stole!
He chased down a Nazgul
beat up trees in Old Forest
Fought a giant turtle in a dead king’s tomb, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!
o/`

-The Gneech, with apologies to Leonard Nimoy