Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/
The iron grip on Shragat’s arm was the only tether he had left to the living world. The journey upward was no mere walk; it was a punishment, a relentless, vertical battle against the howling gale. Ur-Nog, the massive Orc who had materialized from the chaos, did not slow his pace. He moved with the smooth, unwavering momentum of a falling stone—utterly indifferent to the elements and the nearly unconscious weight he dragged alongside him.
Come one and all to the Dwarven Caravan Market! This is a Dwarven-themed RP market event that will take place EVERY Thursday at a different trading settlement along the major trade route used by Dwarves to get to their mines in the Blue Mountains. This trade route will take the Dwarven Caravan Market through Thorin’s Hall, Gondamon, Needlehole, Bree, Ost Guruth, Rivendell, and Gloin’s Camp. And every market will have a unique RP situation to connect it to the context of a wider Middle-Earth.
"It is a thing passing strange to me that the healing hand should also wield the sword. It is not thus in Gondor now, though once it was so, if old tales be true. But for long years we healers have only sought to patch the rents made by the men of swords."
The Warden of the Houses of Healing to Éowyn
The Return of the King, Book V, Chapter 8, "The Houses of Healing"
Author's Note— A friend is currently developing an RP related to the finding of the weapons by Thorin Oakenshield's party in the Trollshaws. As a result, they've asked for prospective participants to share some information about their intended characters with links to Gondolin (where the weapons would have been crafted). I saw this as an opportunity to share my info using LA, as follows...
“I have offered the ring to Tintallë for her blessing. This is Forodril,” Danel said, showing the ring to Estarfin. “The ring’s stone is made from a rare gem. It has all the colors of the northern sky inside.”
“It appears I am bound to drink wine all day and night, then,” Parnard declared, folding his arms across his chest. “And then I must close all the shutters of my mind and act as if nobody is home.”
“Mae govannen,” the newcomer said. The healer was garbed in a long stone coloured robe, not his official wear, but likely what he was wearing when the message arrived. The front of his long, brown hair was lank and wet from where the hood had not covered him. But his warm, blue-grey eyes were bright and keen. He would help.
“Mae govannen, my friend. You know all others in this room, I believe?” I reached over to take his hand for a moment. Estarfin and Belegos greeted him, inclining their heads as both stood to show respect to another old Noldo.