Durin's Folk

Ealfin paced around at the stable of Aldburg, his legs restless and his mind the same, for the arrival of our mutual friend Cwendur and his horse Fale had put us both on edge. We had a mission to complete, on direct order by lord Tiubar. A large shipment of undisclosed worth and size was to be transported from Floodwend to Grimslade. A tall order and a lengthy journey at the best of times, while not escorting heavy work-horses towing slow carts behind them.

The Moon of the North

Part I
"The Wolves of Snow"

The following is a brief summary of some of the events that transpired between the kinships of Durin's Folk and Men of the Mark in recent times, as seen and chronicled from the perspective of Rohan and its people.<

I have not talked much about my mother. In fact not about any female relative thus far. I prefer to keep their names a secret, like it is custom for our folk to do, but it is no secret that our family bloodline hasn't born any she-dwarves in almost an age. Those female dwarves that we reckoned to be part of the family all were dwarf lasses from other family's or even other Houses!

The day of reckoning had finally come. The journey had been long. The blood of Westernesse had spilt the soil and sons were lost. 

The lust for vengeance wrung Thorontir's heart as he led the force he had assembled. A vengeance forged in the blood of his kinsfolk and friends. He wore a second rayed star on his chest, unlike his own not burdened with the years of grime, but with the blood of a young man that lingered in his mind though it had long since been washed away.