Sparrow

Not Just A Sparrow

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

"Just take another step. Sometimes, that's all you can do, my sunshine. Is to just keep stepping."

Wanderer of Seven Winds

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

Two Pale Grey eyes in the Northern Wind, 

Neither justice nor judgment carries her step

Times and places entwine in a web

For she walks with the conscience of one that has sinned.

The Second of Seven Winds – Kaikias, The Call of Hailing Dark

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The Night is filled by the sound of howling, her hands are shaking as they pass through the pitch black wood. The smells are too familiar she knows if she climbed one of the towering trees her eyes would fall on its outline atop the ruined hillside. She wonders how her steps are repeatedly borne back to these paths against her own will her heart feels clenched inside her breast.

Resting in Peaceful Times, the Sparrow and Wolf

What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: Drawing

Though the house bustles with action, in preparation for the arduous journey to Gondor, and the birth of their first child, Calvethor - heir to the Thalanduin legacy, the Sparrow and the Wolf find a moment of respite in this time of peace.

Source: 
Addiel

Meticulous Planning

What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: Painting

Broken and defeated having suffered months of cruel torment from the minions of the White Hand. Drevorin and Milawyn prepare themselves to make their final stand for freedom, either by escaping the darkness of the pits of Isengard or from life itself...

Account of the Accursed: Part IV

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

As we were herded out of the iron gates I was thankful to find that it was nightfall. I had grown used to the darkness, to be exposed to light after all this time would have surely caused me some form of injury. We were taken across the great circle along the centre path. I took a deep breath expecting fresh air, though it’s taste was no sweeter than the ash and smoke I had become accustomed to beneath the surface. Eventually we came to a halt, forming a circle beside an incomplete siege tower near the far eastern wall.

Account of the Accursed: Part III

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

What I believe to have been several weeks had passed. Within the pits, it is impossible to tell just how much time has been spent. I wake within the barracks to the sound of the first horn, I work the forges until the second, and then we are escorted to the feeding halls to eat what the overseers named slop. Each mouthful is like chewing a corpse, the taste and smell resembles as much. On numerous occasions I gagged and spat it back out only to receive a whipping for good measure.

Account of the Accursed: Part II

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

As I awoke in the chamber to the sound of steel scraping upon stone, a memory that I thought had long since passed returned to me. I remembered waking to a similar sound fourteen years ago when I was a prisoner of war in Ithillian. The band of Easterlings that captured us were vicious and cruel, the cruellest of them all being Mordevin, a man who still to this day haunts my dreams. I remembered the day that he found me again many years later, seeking to use my past fear to his advantage.

Account of the Accursed - Part I

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

It has taken me some time to remember the events of that evening. We had travelled a great distance, Sparrow was on the verge of collapsing and I could not blame her in the slightest, she had been through much in Enedwaith. We made camp beside a pool nestled between two hills. I denied Sparrow lighting a fire yet she slept soundly enough, I remember listening to her breath as she slept with the child wrapped within her arms. The night was quiet; the only other source of sound came from the pool which made my eyes grow heavy.

drab dust

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

North and east with the elf beside me. Fate and fortune rise about me like the dust on the road. Here I ride, back into the north, the occasional wind chill as it blows from the further northlands, off the snows. Across the lands once enlivened by long forgotton Fornost. Even as I ride here, my linnet will be preparing her flock for its journey to scrabble about the ruins, inspire her to sing a new tale of Arvedui.

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