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The Return of the Daph

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Story

The time had inevitably come where Daphne was leaving Esgaroth and heading home.

A Final Dusk

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Story

At once there he was again, leading Bread, his now tired and weary horse, to The Prancing Pony. Bread seems displeased with him as he tugs at the reins. Stitches looks over his shoulder at Bread with a sigh as the Bree rain patters on his hood, and his boots slosh through the muck, "Come on now, Bread...I didn't want to bring your friend out in this weather. I won't be here long and then we can go home, alright?"

Choices of Angmar: The Dwarf Again

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Story

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The arena fell into silence. The cruel cheers choked as the crowd that had hailed their doom with glee was now lost in the corner of her eyes. The one they had sought to save knelt begging for death. Her sword fell to the blood-stained ground, ringing, ringing. 

Poem: Ride now for hearth and home

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

Ride not easy into dark and shadowed forests,
Where ancient trees whisper and conspire,
Where roots and stones tickle a horse’s hooves,
Where streams are deep and treacherous,
And overgrown paths lead too far from home.

Ride not foolishly into golden northern realms,
Where wicked elves weave their magic spells,
Where the shade of trees hide their gilded arrows,
Where heavy leaves glitter in the dark of night,
And elven waybread tastes naught of home.

My Sincerest Apologies (A Letter to Cedmon)

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Story
 To Cedmon Windseeker of the Bree-Lands, at No.2 High Road

Dearest Cedmon,

From Now On

in
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Story

Itharius's claws clatter along the ground as he prances around the large room, the one large room comprising Stitches' new abode. Stitches himself stares in at the place, a hollowness in his eyes, as if he's only barely perceiving his surroundings, the floor pattern, the roughmade but sturdy wooden furniture, the bed tucked in the corner, and the tables full of plates at the top of the steps near the back of what he can only assume was intended to be a hall of some sort.

Barely Returned

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Story

The damp, torn and dirty boot seeps traces of water out from it as another step is taken down the cobblestone path. Tired, green eyes lift up to the gate of Bree, while frail fingers grasp at the reins of his horse. Coarsely, he speaks, saying something to himself in a moment of hesitation, as though he himself can't believe it, his voice struggling to start with a forced whistle, "Hhh...Home."

Homecoming

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Story

Arenborn knocked on the door struggling to hide his broad smile. How long had it been? Three months? Four? It felt like it had been far longer. His fingers curled around the small bouquet of flowers he had picked on his way through their little village and he took a deep breath.

Daily Life - Evenings by the Fire

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Screenshot: General screen

Gaeded spends her evenings sitting by the fire, Grim curled up by her feet.

Daily Life - Dinner

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Screenshot: General screen

A moment of Gaeded's daily life, where she is just sitting and enjoying some stew.

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