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While the Free Peoples believe peace has finally settled over Middle-earth, a different struggle is unfolding beyond the reach of their watchful eyes. In the ruined lands of Udûn, forgotten fortresses stir once more as The Nameless Fear gathers exiles, traitors, outcasts, and servants of darkness beneath no banner but fear itself.
Author’s Note: This piece was shaped with a little help from AI. It provided assistance on things like the structuring, some names, shortening some verbose language/ideas as I'd written, and gave me the odd turn of phrase here and there.
The mountain wind carries their foul voices. Even further does it carry their stench. The pursuer on their tail ensures she makes no sound, bare feet taking careful steps on the stony path. She hastens. The chase nears its end.
They came out of the ancient Dwarf-Mountain in the north. A retinue of ambassadors no doubt, dressed in their best rotting hides and assorted filthy trophy-skulls. On wolves they rode across the Vales, but now a pack of eight is left and they move on foot. Evidently the Bear-Men didn't let them escape their realm unscathed.