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Uruk-hai

The Battle of Faldham

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

     This event occurs between the events of Homecoming posted by Eduwiges and the Great Horse Rescue Part 2 posted by Addiela. (Rhavanielle help with editing.)

Narthall's Journal Entry One: "Dont look for trouble, it will come to you."

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

 

 

Where to begin, or how to begin more like it, i dont remember last time i have took ink and quill and written down my thoughts, matter the fact i do not know why i do it even now. Perhaps i am simply writing this to keep my memories intact, or perhaps to store a little piece of myself someplace to remind myself, or to be reminded off...reminded off what i wonder.

Poor Impressions

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

I fear I most likely made a poor impression on the Avari. The last week has been a bit trying on my patience. Being bed ridden by an over attentive healer has not done me well either. I fear I have taken it out on him. It is going to take a great deal of patience to fix any bond with this Avari. I do not know if this is possible. I do not blame him if he chooses to avoid me. Now that I have had time for my temper to cool, Ai! I have been horridly mean. Orc like in manner even. Tis not his fault he did not understand, yet I pelted the salve jar at him anyway.

"Captive" Guest.

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Braigion paid little heed to the tall elf riding ahead of him; the Avar merely sulked in frustration and sadness as the crazy horse he was forced to ride followed behind. It was a little better than being on foot, where every step would be extremely painful as a result from his foot nearly being chopped off by a bear trap. It started in the middle of the night, and Braigion was off hunting by the cover of darkness. The higher ones’ camp was a fair ways to the west, so he would not be seen and hopefully undisturbed by what seemed to be hunters…

War in the North: Sharkey's Lieutenant: ...Not yet.

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The man stopped, standing still, not unlike a statue, as if some sort of spell had just frozen him. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized what was before him, the beast that had already defeated him once: a Warg, as big as a horse and black as the night. It could be any black Warg, especially since the last time it was in the Lone-Lands, miles away... but Ildrand knew it was that Warg. The same size, the same growl, the same eyes.

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