Past
The sun had just started to set over Thakalgund when Kuinn received the news. His heart sank as he read the letter, his eyes scanning the words over and over again as if trying to make sense of it all. His son, Kandral, was dead. He crumpled the letter and clenched his fists, feeling the overwhelming sense of grief wash over him. The war had been raging for years, and Thakalgund had seen its fair share of battles. But Kuinn knew that the orcs were growing bolder with each passing day, and the threat to their city was increasing. He knew that he had to tend to the city's defenses, even if it meant he couldn't travel to his son's burial.
As he gathered his weapons and armor, his old, weary hand grasping his axe, Kuinn felt a sense of determination wash over him. He was not as young as he used to be, but he had the experience and knowledge that could make the difference between victory and defeat. He would fight for his son, for his city, and for the people he loved. He would not let them down.
Present
Years have passed since Kuinn's son's death, and the fires of war have slowly dimmed. Thakalgund's future is secured in bloody sacrifice, thanks to the many victories Kuinn led his people to. But despite the city's security, Kuinn could find no joy. His son was dead, and he was not there to bury him. His brother, Duinn, had left on an adventure many years ago, and no word was heard from him since. His family seemed all but spent.
It was an exceptionally cold day when Kuinn announced his departure from Thakalgund, leaving his most trusted advisor, Thorgrim, to lead the city in his absence. Kuinn would once again venture out into the world, to visit his son's grave, to strengthen and build Thakalgund's alliances in Middle-earth, and perhaps even to find his brother.
