Minas Tirith

Flowers and Grief

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

It had been another evening in the company of the physician, after her work in the garden. She had found it difficult to extract from herself her reasons for staying, long after her work had finished. It was becoming something of a companionable habit for her. She felt some guilt on the matter, and had told him so, but she could not express why, to him, or even to herself.

An Entrance to Bree

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

A smile crept over the woman's features as she examined the interior of the property. She stood beside a much older Bree-man, in an older farmhouse. The man had suggested a reasonable sum for the property. Indeed, she thought to herself, this place was perhaps too reasonable to be true. 

Addiela in the Houses of Lore, Reunion

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Eduwiges of Faldham hurried through the glistening courtyards up on the Sages Tier of Minas Tirith. Intent on her mission, the beauty of the fountains and courtyards passed her by as she approached the steps to the Houses of Lore. Eduwiges smelled of sweat and horses. Oenone had not let her down. The horse of the Riddermark lived up to her breeding and the travel time to the city was short.

Lament of the Maiden — Minas Tirith

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry
   (( Edited. 23 Aug 2017 ))

Lament of the Maiden from the White City


Tear the banners from the Tower,

Of Resentment and Repentance

Author: 
Not managed by anyone IC. Contact Maetthor for details.

One place for all content relating to Maetthor and his family to be found.

Celebrating in Minas Tirith

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

Alromir catches up with old comrades in the Splintered Shield Tavern during the Royal Wedding festivities.

Minque Chime at The Seer

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

Cadwen's Lament

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

CADWEN’S LAMENT
 

I never expected to cradle you in my arms
With such tenderness and fear.
Your eyes, unopened, your skin
Dark like the man I loved for only a passing night.
Your delicate lips, your hands:
So small and so fragile.
I fear you will crumble at my touch.


They wrap you in blue, my daughter—
My warrior, my fighter
My child.
They wipe away the blood,
The sweat,
The grime that comes from dancing
On the edge of life and death.

Lioness

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

LIONESS 

 

Little girl
Too long you have wandered in the open.
Too long you have bowed your head.
Too long you have fought without cause.

Little girl
You never weary of raising your voice.
You never tire of the burn in your throat.
You never feel your fervor diminish.

But now is not the time for outrage.
Now is not the time for war.

 

0.2 Prologue: The Lone Arrow

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Valanduir travelled from the Bay of Belfalas with Nethillon until Minas Tirith. This time was different than always as he was permitted in the city once again after Nethillon's request. Valanduir Alagaer was always seen as a hooded figure but no one ever paid attention (no one but Nethillon) how he really looked like. He was a tall man with skin tanned by sun. Valanduir's face was smooth and young, he had well-matched nose and lips that always had a smile drawn on them. His eyes were inky black and his hair was short and well-kept.

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