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Song

An Unlikely Champion, Part 4, Interlude 4

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

An raiḃ tú ag an gCarraig?
--Dominic Ó Mongain

Another set dance at the Vanimar Ball.

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

Another set dance, although there were individual dances as well. A beautiful setting with very good music.

An Unlikely Champion, Part 2, Interlude 3

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

Butterfly
- Eimear Quinn and Brendan Graham

One Hand, One Heart

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

BEREN
Make of our hands one hand,
Make of our hearts one heart,
Make of our vows one last vow:
Only death will part us now.

LÚTHIEN
Make of our lives one life,
Day after day, one life.

Chronicle: Tales of the Lost Realm

Author: 

OOC: A collection of narratives, journal entries, and story fragments chronicling the return of the Dúnedain to Cardolan, the founding of Towerglan, and the lives woven together through the effort to rebuild. Told from the perspective of Arnethir, and others.

"Stone and Song"

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Author’s Note: This piece recounts a series of live-RP sessions I participated in with the 'Men of the Lost Realm'. The narrative has been shaped with a little help from AI.

The Wrongings of Gilrilion

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

Gilrilion ran, and he sang as he ran,

As bright-feathered crow soared high in the sky,

Clear sky, that bird did shine, as crow did fly.

A December Night

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

A December Night
by Miss Corydalia Birdsfoot of the Little Delving Birdsfoots
with extreme apologies to W.S. Gilbert

When a hobbit’s not engaged in digging taters (digging taters)

Nor is elbow-deep in scrubbing pots and pans (pots and pans)

Song: Hope of the lost one

in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

One look at her and you may see
A fate unkind, it’s a mystery
She is young and yet she’s torn apart
For hope has now left this woman’s heart
Hope has now left this woman’s heart

Whispering tales, a word of lies
The man and the maid of the love denied
One breath, one lie may end or may start
For hate took a place of the man’s heart
Hate took a place in the man’s heart

In song remembered

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry
Shadows grew long afore the dimmed dawn
while men awoke to muted horns;
hearty men green-cloaked and ironclad.
Far they had ridden on well-trained steeds,
passing over river, mound and dale;
heavy hoofs broke ground well-traveled,
resting now on cold and dewy grass.
Still their fires burned and embers flew;
birds singing and crickets playing
in the misted morning, while the sun rose
behind mountains white-enclouded.

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