Aldamir, Caranel, Eddil, and Timothy were called to appear before the king.  All four were incredibly nervous. Caranel had been inducted into the Rangers by Aragorn and Aldamir had received a pat on the head when he was a small child at a royal ball, but beyond that none of them had any experience dealing with their King.  Aragorn was to them more legend than man, the sort of person you die in service to, not talk to.

Astra came along as well.  She didn't see what all the fuss was about.

Elerína, Thorongil, and Captain Anders were present as the five adventurers knelt before the Throne of Gondor.  Aragorn spoke first.

“A commander of the orcs of Mordor has offered herself and a Palantir in exchange for our protection and a royal pardon.  I am inclined to accept. Captain Anders will be leading the mission to recover her, and the Lady Elerína has suggested you assist him.”

Timothy’s heart sank.  It was time to pay the piper.

“I will not force you to go - most of you are not my soldiers,” continued Aragorn.  “But if you help me in this regard you would have my gratitude.”

Before they could answer, Elerína spoke, looking at each in turn.  “She’ll go for duty, he’ll go for love, he’ll go for money, she’ll go for fun, and he…”

She turned last to Timothy.  “He will go because without him I fear the quest will fail and his friends will not return.”

All of the adventurers nodded.  All but Astra owed Elerína their life, and Astra thought Mordor sounded exciting.

“When do we leave?” asked Eddil.

It was decided that they would leave the next morning and attack Cirith Ungol at dawn the following day.  The King decided to send both the first and second companies of First Rangers, plus a detachment from the Citadel Guard, to attack the fortress and provide a distraction.  Anders and his team would slip in the back door and rescue the sorceress.

The company of six prepared themselves for their quest.  Anders studied maps and drew up plans. He prepared glass bottles filled with sticky black ink, which he insisted each member of his team carry in their packs.  He also advised the Rangers of first and second company to carry similar bottles. Second took his advice, first company did not.

Aldamir, Eddil, and Caranel sparred together in the Citadel courtyard.  Astra did nothing to prepare but take the arrow from her wooden box and add it to her quiver.  Timothy was visited by Elerína who took his stone and spent some time holding it closely.

“If the spider attacks you, this will be your best defense against her,” she said returning it to him.  She had prepared a little surprise for the daughter of Ungoliant.

The company set out at dawn the next morning along with nearly three hundred soldiers of Gondor including the Rangers.  They camped that night in Mogul Vale before making the long trek through the Spider’s Pass. The next morning the battle for Cirith Ungol began.  Unbeknown to the orcish garrison, Mirumor removed the spell on the main entrance to Cirith Ungol, allowing the Gondorian main force to enter the courtyard of the fortress with little challenge.

As the sounds of battle echoed back into the tunnel of Shelob's lair Anders led his team into the fortress by the back door.  With most of the garrison engaged with the Gondorian soldiers in the courtyard the six rescuers met little resistance. The few orcs they encountered swiftly fell to their swords.

Eventually Anders, Caranel, Aldamir, Eddil, Timothy, and Astra reached the highest tower of the castle where Mirumor cowered.  The door was barred against them.

Caranel drew her sword.  Rage swelled in her heart at the thought of rescuing the sorceress who's orcs had murdered her brothers in arms one by one during her captivity in this very tower.  “We should kill the sorceress and take the stone back to the King.”

“I didn't come here to kill this woman in cold blood,” objected Aldamir.

Eddil sided with Caranel.  “She came within hours of killing Caranel; without Thorongil she would have killed you and me.”

“We implicitly accepted her terms,” began Timothy.

“This isn't a vote!” shouted Anders.  “Our orders are to bring her back to Minas Tirith and that is exactly what we are going to do.”

Anders knocked loudly.  “Mirumor! Do you want to come with us or not?”

The door opened of its own accord.  Standing across the room from the rescuers stood the sorceress, looking out a high window down at the battle.

“Finally!” she cried.  “The battle goes against you.”

Anders rushed to her side and surveyed the chaos below him.  The forces of Gondor had retreated out of the courtyard at the sight of a large orc host marching up the road that led into Mordor.

“We need to move, now!” he shouted.  “Where’s the Palantír?”

Mirumor went to a locked chest and with three different keys opened it.  Inside was a black silk sack from which she pulled a foot wide sphere of translucent marble.  A faint light came from within it. Timothy gasped. Few in Middle Earth got the chance to see a Seeing Stone of old.

“The Palantir, as promised,” grinned the sorceress.  She grabbed another bag of treasure in her left and and around her waist tied a belt with numerous daggers and swords.

The company, now seven strong, ran back through the fortress towards the exit into Shelob’s tunnel.  They were nearly out of the castle when they came to a large room with a high ceiling. It had been a feasting hall in ages past.  Now it stood empty, the remains of tables and chairs thrown against the wall, save for a twelve foot tall armored troll blocking their path.

“Burt said you might be trying to run aways with the bad mens!” roared the beast.  “Never can trust your kind! Always scheme and betray!”

“Bottles!” cried Anders.  Everyone but Astra rushed at the troll with their bottles of ink.  At about ten feet from the monster they let them fly, and a few found their mark - the top of its helmet.  The ink from the shattered bottles dripped down over the glass which covered the beast's eyes.

The troll might have killed his quarry by blindly rushing them, swinging his enormous club, but he was not clever enough to keep his helmet on.  As he pulled it off his head Astra placed an arrow straight through his eye. The monster had hardly hit the floor when the seven fled the room by the door from whence the troll had come.

Anders and his team had one final challenge to overcome.  They had hardly spent ten minutes in Shelob's tunnel when the mighty spider dropped into their path.  The burn mark from her encounter with Thorongil was clearly visible on her eye clusters.

Instinctively Timothy drew his stone and Astra drew a particular arrow from her quiver.

“Ilmarë preserve us!” shouted Timothy.

There was a flash of light from the carven stone unlike anything Shelob, let alone the mortals, had ever seen.  Not even if the Silmarils themselves had been present would the light have been brighter. By the power of the spell the mortal men were unharmed, save Mirumor whose skin was burned red.  So great was the power Ilmarë had placed in the stone that it turned to ash in Timothy’s hand as the pulse of light was unleashed.

Shelob stood completely blinded, both physically and in her ability to sense her prey through magic.  She screeched in rage at the thought of another hunt ruined by her new maiar neighbors. She was done running!  What mortal, she wondered, would dare pass her as she stood in their path? She could wait for the blindness to subside.  It was her prey that were pressed for time.

She was right.

Timothy stood in shock, trying to grab some of the dust that had been his most prized possession and the only link he had to his father.  None of his companions dared try to rush past the predator. As Tim fell to his knees, grasping wildly at the air and hoping Shelob would flee, he heard words he recognized from an old story.

"Black arrow...” said Astra, reciting words carved beneath the statue of her ancestor in Dale and known to every child living on Long Lake.  “You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well!"

Shelob heard the twang of the bowstring and ducked her head just in time to avoid a lethal blow.  Smaug’s Bane sailed just over her head and into her bulbous abdomen. She had not felt pain like that since she landed on Sting.  So sharp was the arrow and strong was the bow that there was heard alongside her wail of pain the clinking of metal upon stone - the Black Arrow landed behind the spider having passed straight through her.

Shelob had no idea what weapon or sorcery her foes had struck her with, but she had no intention of finding out if they had a second.  She rushed away from them, wildly feeling with her forelegs for a side passage to hide in. Anders and company followed her, Astra careful to collect her arrow as they went.

There was still some sunlight left when Anders led his six companions out of the tunnel.  After the long journey down the steps they stayed the night in Minas Ithil. All but Mirumor slept well - she got a prison cell with nothing but a cold stone floor to sleep on.

The next evening they rode into Minas Tirith, the army that had accompanied them close behind.  They had lost about fifty men but killed four times that, plus three armored trolls thanks to Anders’ ink bottle idea.

The six adventurers reached the Palace of the King just as the last light of the setting sun could be seen in the clouds behind Mount Mindolluin.