Dunedain

The Grim Homely House

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

January 26th, 3019 T.A.

‘The Grim, Homely House’

Alagnir in Imladris

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

January 28th, 3019 T.A.

'Alagnir in Imladris'

Let Me Show You How

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Haeneth, whilst hunting for clues to the disappearances in Dunland, is visited by Agamaran, to share his duty.

An Unexpected Hope

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Oh, my dearest diary, my companion —

Hope has come at last, in the shape of a Dúnadan Woman from the north. Her name is Artewen and she gives me, for the first time since Lindon, hope that my husband’s brother yet lives. 

I must scrawl this in haste, but the bandit-camp in the Arnorian ruin is as deserted as sunken Beleriand. More, a tall ellon calling himself “Alice” (note to self, that is a female’s name) returned to that horrible inn with the hole in the roof. 

Scrawled In Haste

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

This message, tied to the leg of a raven, was clearly written in great haste. 

Dear Artewen,

I write in the utmost urgency, hoping you can help me as you once helped my friends in Dunland. 

Telpenaro is the one who gave me your name. He said to implore you to come to the home of the swans, but bring no horse crackers. 

Your reward shall be great indeed if you can assist us. 

Yours, clinging to hope,

Airesarë Celulinda “Manadhlaer”

 

The Journey: Lothrandir

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

How So few words can destroy so many hopes? How a reunion could turn into a disaster? 

Stories of the North

Author: 
Wrote and preserved by Cerchennil

Endless stories can be heard in the North, from rangers that defend Annúminas in Echad Garthadir, or the healers in Esteldin. If you can find and befriend a ranger, you can hear their tale and learn of them.

Northdowns: Wayward Ranger Pt.2 Found

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Torchanar paused in his stride, sniffing the crisp winter air. It was faint, so very faint that he thought it might be a trick of his senses. Parting his lips, he inhaled deeply, using the trick to increase the sensitivity of smell. There it was. A trace of the odor of burning. It might have been missed by orc or ordinary men, but Torchanar was Dunedain and his senses well tuned to the natural world.

No Aid

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The sun had traveled past its noon mark when Lhachiel passed the first stones of the ruins. Her arrival had hailed some isolated warm greetings, yet predominantly raised eyebrows, the latter among those who had only heard, not ever crossed path with her. The sight of a woman bearing arms as readily as the men congregated within these ruins, was an unusual one, and Lhachiel was all too aware of this while trying not to show any signs of unease.

A curious clasp

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Aelthrandir sat by the fire stripping the bark from the length of branch he had cut to roast a coney, which lay skinned and gutted beside him. The evening was drawing in and a chill was in the air.

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