The Troll-woods lay in the eastern reaches of the plains of Eriador, a land of rolling hills and deep valleys. Beech, hazel, and elder grew thick upon the slopes, clothing the land in living green.
In spring, the forest gleamed like emerald, alive with birdsong; in autumn, its slopes turned gold, a crown of fire across the hills. Beautiful and serene it seemed—yet its beauty was but a mask.
Few now remembered that in the Second Age, this wood was nameless and untroubled, lying at the far borders of the Kingdom of Arnor. In those days it was peaceful, its glades roamed by Elven hunters, its air bright with the vigor of untamed life.
But when the Third Age wore on and Arnor was torn into three petty realms—Arthedain, Cardolan, and Rhudaur—the forest became the heartland of Rhudaur. On the highest hill the Dúnedain raised their city of stone: Cameth Brin.
Yet Rhudaur's glory was brief. In the north the Witch-king of Angmar rose, chieftain of the Ringwraiths, a shadow sent forth by Sauron. He ensnared the hillfolk of Rhudaur, teaching them foul sorceries until their hearts turned black. With their aid he swept aside the kingdom, and slaughter fell upon the Dúnedain.
When Cameth Brin fell, the Witch-king sent trolls into the forest, making it a den of darkness. Later, though Angmar was broken, the Orcs that survived fled hither, joining trolls and hillfolk in uneasy alliance. So the forest remained—calm on the surface, but in its deeps full of peril.
Thus, in this present age, the Troll-woods were the stronghold of three evils: Orcs, trolls, and the fallen hill-tribes. From here they struck at travelers upon the East-West Road, and for long years had warred against the Dúnedain and the Elves of Rivendell.
….
When Ryan and his Rangers reached the southern verge of the forest, they found relics of the past strewn beneath the trees: toppled statues, moss-grown road-markers, broken stones weathered by the years—all whispering of lost kingdoms and forgotten glory.
Mist veiled the hills beyond, and upon a far slope loomed the crumbling silhouette of Cameth Brin, the old capital of Rhudaur.
They skirted the forest's edge until they came upon a ruined village. Once it had been a settlement of Northmen; now its houses lay shattered, walls thrown down, the ground stamped with the vast footprints of trolls.
"Clear those three huts—they'll serve as our camp," Ryan commanded, pointing to the few stone houses that yet stood.
At once the Rangers set to work, casting out rubble and sweeping the dust.
"Elger, Arion," Ryan ordered, "take two men each and scout the forest. If you find trolls, do not fight them. Return at once and report."
"Yes, my lord!" the two answered, swiftly choosing comrades and setting forth.
"Alaina—five with you. Set sentries about the village. Change watches by turn; no beast shall surprise us at night."
"Understood!" Alaina was gone at once, her eyes sharp as steel.
"Ailin," Ryan said more gently, "take stock of our stores—food, arrows, all of it. Keep the ledger."
"Of course, my lord." The healer pulled forth her leather-bound book and set to her task.
"Idhrion, Erken—take the rest. Strengthen the walls and doors. Tonight we sleep safely, no matter what prowls outside."
Erken thumped his chest, grinning through his beard. "Aye, leave it to me!"
So, under Ryan's steady hand, all fell into order.
….
Two days passed, and the camp was made secure. From there they began to explore the Troll-woods piece by piece.
Everywhere lay ruins of Rhudaur: walls fallen into ivy, broken pillars of palaces, roads buried under earth. They told silently of the greatness and the downfall of the Dúnedain.
Yet dangers lurked ever near. From bushes Orcs might spring, from gullies arrows of the hillfolk might fly. Deep fissures lay hidden beneath thickets, ready to swallow the unwary.
Half a month they labored thus, scouring the forest's outer reaches. More than once they clashed with Orc scouts. Some Rangers were wounded, but none gravely.
Strangely, not a single troll did they meet. It was as if the whole race of them had sunk into the earth and vanished.
…..
One evening, as the companies returned, one group was missing: the band led by Elger, sent to the northeast.
Night fell. In the makeshift hall—an old stone hut lit only by a tallow candle—Ryan sat in thought, his fingers tapping lightly upon the table.
At length he raised his head toward Idhrion.
"They have not yet returned?"
Idhrion shook his head, troubled. "By our measure, they should have come back two hours ago."
"Perhaps they met a host of Orcs," Arion muttered grimly. "We ourselves were assailed by hillfolk arrows in the western valleys. They too may have stumbled into ambush."
The mood grew heavy at his words. All knew what it meant to fall into ambush, three against many.
In the corner, Ailin clenched her hands tight, lips pressed pale, eyes shining with unspoken fear. Alaina moved close and clasped her hand in silent comfort.
Then—hurried footsteps outside, and a knock upon the door.
"My lord! We are returned!"
"That's my brother's voice!" Ailin cried, springing to her feet and rushing forward.
Relief swept through the room as the door swung open. In came Elger with his two men, weary and begrimed. Their cloaks were torn by branches, their boots thick with mud. One Ranger's arm was bound in bloodied cloth.
"Ha! So you are alive after all!" Erken roared, striding forward to crush Elger in a bear's embrace. "One moment more and I'd have stormed the forest with axe in hand!"
"What befell you?" Arion asked sharply, eyes on the wounded man. "Orcs? Hillfolk? How grave is it?"
Voices rose at once, a clamor of questions. Ailin hurried forward with her satchel, kneeling at once to tend the injury.
"Peace, all of you," Ryan said at last, and the room fell silent. He gestured to the benches. "Sit. Tell us what you found."
"As you foresaw, my lord," Elger answered, sinking into a chair. "We wandered deep into the northeast and found no trolls. At day's end, we turned back—but lost our way, and stumbled by chance upon a hidden cave. And there… three trolls stood guard at its mouth."
A murmur rippled through the room.
"With but three of us, we had no chance" Elger continued. "We struck and fled. By fortune we escaped, though one was wounded. Only by starlight could we find our way again, and we circled wide around the forest's edge to return. That is why we are late."
He paused, recalling. "Of those trolls—two were great and hulking, one smaller. In the fight I heard them call each other's names. I swear they said: Bert, Tom, and William."
At this, astonishment gave way to silence. Then Ryan leapt to his feet, eyes blazing.
"Then it is true," he said slowly, his voice ringing. "We have found it. The hoard lies there!"