murder

Manadhlaer's Diary: Strange Bedfellows

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Well, Diary, I suppose now it is true what people say, that one does not really know a person until one has lived with them.

That is, "with" in a very elastic sense -- for Captain Sáranassë has given me her own clean but spare bunk in Arrow Hall, and has taken to sleeping out of doors in a tree instead. She assures me she actually prefers it so. Rámarillë is clearly baffled by this. She circles one tree or another -- whether it be the correct tree, or no -- and honks very loudly into the air.

Scribbled Note to Lord Anglachelm

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The note is scrawled in an unusually shaky hand.

My lord,

I have paid this courier a great deal of money to find you, and I hope he does. Lord Tindir is away, and the matter before us is urgent to a degree I felt you must know.

Lothilind of the Pillar, who had become an apprentice at the Houses of Healing, has been murdered in the Vale. We discovered her poor hröa under a bush, downhill from the Markets of Imladris.

Besides the obvious security implications, these things should be known:

No Escape from the Terror

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

 Syllea skips into the Prancing Pony, expecting it to be any other day. Full of mischief, laughing, and maybe some writing. Seeing Demlemoth not in his usual spot by the stairs she set herself down there.

A Scattering of Mead

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The two figures were not the only guests at Edoras’ tavern that night, but their attention was less on the chatter among them, once they met, and more on each other and the grave matter they discussed…

Why She Left

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Ídhror had gone to bed, leaving Ashwyneth's father to "think over the decision". 
It was pointless, as he'd already decided.
Ash had left many years ago, so he gained nothing from her. But if he gave her to this wealthy Gondorian,
Ídhror, then he would gain much from this bargain.

Aim, Loose

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

Garbold and Chadley 

Chadley saw the youth as he ran headlong to attempt a tackle, and dispassionately loosed the waiting bolt into the young man's chest, preparing to be tackled with—perhaps literally—dead weight.

The Price of Safety

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The sun had just set when Arra led the small band of hooded and masked figures through the Bree-Fields. Just ahead the dirt path met a small wooden bridge which went over the stream which flanked a nearby farmhouse. The windows were bright. "Someone's home," Arra said from beneath her hideous mask, carved into the shape of an orc's face. Some might call it an improvement.

Uncharacteristic Rage

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Arenborn fought with a ferocity that he had previously never displayed, or would ever display again. He fought with such wanton savagery that his attackers fell back in dismay from his onslaught. He was not a man on the defensive, he was a man seeking one thing. Death.

A Simple Task

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The sun was rising over the Kingsfell, the birds were singing, and the warm breeze rustled the grass and leaves in the trees bright flowers covered the hills and crops were tall in the farm fields. Outside the farmhouse of one such homestead, a man was going about his chores. He slowly turned the handle of the wheel, hauling up a bucket of water while he appears somewhat frustrated, muttering angrily the whole time. He is dressed well, at least for a farmer.

First Strike Against the Wusfrealings

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The big chestnut horse snorted a greeting Bada approached, running his hand along the arched neck of the stallion. Murmuring to it, he began to brush the steed, the repetitive motion both relaxing and gave him time to think.

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