"Then on a day when the weather clears we shall go hunting. For your brother's honour and your family's; we shall slay an Orc for each year that your brother would have lived: that is the count of fingers on six hands. Bring a bed roll and rations, for we do not return until the task is complete." - Ceorlgar to Melowen.

Yrminas entertains the patrons with songs and tales.

'T'was a dark night in the wilderness beyond the East Wall in the war-riddled kingdom of Rohan, and through the mountains echoed cries of battle and the sound of crude swords clashing against wooden shields. Orcs from Isengard had fallen upon a group of Eorlings, seeking to bring naught but destruction to the proud horselords.

The orcs, however numerous, found that whatever might the Horselords may possess, it was far too great for them to overcome.

'T'was a dark night in the wilderness beyond the East Wall in the war-riddled kingdom of Rohan, and through the mountains echoed cries of battle and the sound of crude swords clashing against wooden shields. Orcs from Isengard had fallen upon a group of Eorlings, seeking to bring naught but destruction to the proud horselords.

The orcs, however numerous, found that whatever might the Horselords may possess, it was far too great for them to overcome.

The band of men dismount their steeds to wreak havoc upon the orc camp from which many foul things come forth.

A small band of riders gather up at the gates of Snowbourn.

"ONWARD!"

"What happened in the cave, will stay in the cave."