Trestlebridge

Lovejoy studied Carrock in silence for a long moment. His friend’s shoulders sagged beneath the weight of his people’s stares, though most had already turned away, muttering darkly to themselves. The guard at the gate shifted uncomfortable, hand twitching near their hilts, but no one had drawn steel against the brigands.

♦

Thorneth and her companions lingered in Minas Vrûn for four more days. This gave Thorneth’s wounds time to fully heal. During the rest, she picked out a new blade, having lost her old one in her duel with the Champion of Angmar. By the King’s leave, she could have any weapon she wished, and Thorneth selected a sword forged by ancient Westernesse techniques. Dagúl it was named by its smith, the Slayer of Sorcery, for it was made to drive back the evil that came out of Angmar.

Finally we left Bree on our way to the North downs, passing through Trestlebridge.

Upon reaching the city, we saw that there was a great fire and several houses were in ruins. All this produced by the last assault of orcs that they suffered a few weeks ago.

Belenir wanted to focus his attention on Fornost, the ancient city of the Dunedains. According to his historian, there are artifacts, relics, that are still asleep and hidden from the eyes of evil. Our duty to Gondor involves keeping these relics safe.

Sabela knew why Trestlebridge had never been as vibrant as Bree. It wasn’t just orcs. The town itself was poorly laid, crammed into the outcrop at the edge of the Brandy Hills. Most of the wind came from the north across the Fornost plains where a great, creaking wood had in ancient days stemmed the breeze. Now, the land barren, there was no shelter from the gusts that swept down from the higher hills of Evendim and Forochel’s frozen steppes.

She'd crossed that bridge dozens of times before. The Trestlespan was strong and sturdy, and its wooden walls hid most of the ravine below it from view.

It was insane. Chaotic.
The very air around was acrid.
Though with all the chaos, death and destruction around, somehow, Daphne was still fine. Everyone was still alive and so far, she'd managed to keep Furley from injury. Or, at least...he wasn't injured yet. It may not have had anything to do with her.