Dunland

The Last Song of War

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

The Last Song of War

Is your image an Artwork or Screenshot?: 
Artwork: Painting



THE LAST SONG OF WAR


White as snow the summer mist shall wake the final day
Cool as spring to kiss the sun that burns the dawn away;

Red the heart, the call to start, who beats the final drum
Red as blood with paint and mud, faces dark shall come;

Black shall be the banners’ laugh, one by one unfurled
Source: 
Artwork & poem by me (Syaven)

The Pledge Raid

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

The pledge-raid had been, as Cerrynt heard it, equal parts force and stealth. They had avoided notice, and bloodshed, as much as possible, but had also terrorized a farm-family and killed their guard dog. Cerrynt had been meant to be part of it, though she had never learned what her part would be; at that time, she'd hardly ever seen a horse, had never been near one. Had never seen a forgoil, either. But due to a misunderstanding about days and times, she hadn't been there.

Fire in the blood

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

When the stars were first coming out and the bonfire at the overlook was just being built, the wind had been keen, a hungry voice in the rocks like the world itself longing for something it could never have. The air was calm now, but for Cerrynt it felt no less turbulent, for while the air might be at rest, her feet, light as clouds, flung her through it as keenly as if the wind still raced heedlessly towards the horizon.

Failure Forgot

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Soaked and stinking of Isen-marsh, Gryffudd climbed the high hill west of Tros Hynt. He paid his feet no heed except when he stumbled, which was often. Looking up, he watched the clouds as they grazed their gentle fingers across the moon. The crescent was a sliver in the sky—a wink. Swaying, the man pushed an upright pointer finger against his lips, shushed, and winked back.

A Hobbit Comes to Cymru

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

After his perilous journey from Enedwaith and month into living amidst the Avanc-lûth, Iofan meets the princeling of the Eryr-lûth,

A Spell of Three Prongs

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Muirne paints a spell over Khyus as he prepares for the Night Raid in

Passing days and nights

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Each day was like the one before. Strangely comfortable, as if she had lived amongst the Eryr-lûth all her life. Every night was like the one before. Uncomfortably strange, because every night she remembered that this was not her home, her tribe, would never be; that she was lost.

Night Raid in Rohan—Part 1

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Two vows, one night

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

There were fires burning in the distance, somewhere in the east. From the guard-post outside the stockade of Tros Hynt, Cerrynt couldn't tell how large, or how far, they were. That one might be a small campfire from some hunter of the Eryr-lûth nearby roasting a grouse, or it might be the burning ruins of some huge forgoil farm from which brave cymry were currently stealing horses. She had no way to know. She could only stare into the distance until her eyes swam and all points seemed as near as all others, fretting about the raid she was supposed to be part of, but was missing.

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