Warrior of the North

Hoth is a proud warrior of the Lossoth. No longer is he “Gendald of Dale”… he was bestowed a Lossoth name upon acceptance into the Leijona-heimo, the Lion Tribe.


 

Hoth gazed out over the Ice Bay from Suri-Kyla, and he noticed some disturbing pillars of smoke.


 

He spoke with Ranger Lothrandir, who was also disturbed by the sight. Hoth decided to go check it out.


 

Hoth dons his sword and shield and prepares to leave Suri-Kyla.


 

On his mighty warhorse provided to him by the Rohirrim, he canters gently over the ice.


 

At last he found the source of the smoke… Gauredain conducting some form of Angmarim-like rituals. “But why would they do that….” No time to think about it, because the Gauredain noticed Hoth and started coming after him. He would have to investigate the rituals later… for now, he simply hoped the battle would be exciting enough for a good campfire story.


 
Head: Helm of the Graduate, Washed
Shoulders: Pauldrons of the learned master,  Ranger Green dye
Chest: Scout’s weathered leather Jacket, Navy dye
Hands: Enduring gauntlets of rallying, Ranger Green dye
Feet: Fine grey company boots, Ranger Green dye
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Navy Dye

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The Wandering Bard

Aelerich heads back to Bree on his new Cremello steed. Though dark clouds were looming overhead, he hoped he wouldn’t run into bad weather for his trip.


 

Well, he made it to Bree, but not before it started pouring down rain. At least he found a stable for his horse, but now, to find a room for himself…


 

“Hey buddy, know where I can get a room?” Aelerich was pretty frustrated when the local replied “nope” without taking his eyes off his whittling.


 

Aelerich was getting pretty desperate, but not desperate enough to “do a favor for Sharkey” as “payment” for a night’s stay at this local’s abode.


 

Time for Aelerich to warm up in front of the fire at the Prancing Pony.


 

As he gazed into the fire, he wondered what he was going to do for a room. Then he got an idea…


 

Aelerich asks the Pony’s local entertainment for advice, and was delighted to hear the musician’s reply: “Ah, ’tis miserable weather out there! I’ll fix you up here at the Pony… musicians are always welcome here!”


 

“The Prancing Pony is always welcome to musicians…” Aelerich muttered under his breath as he stared up at the cobweb-riddled ceiling of the cellar. He just hoped the other “residents” of the cellar were as exhausted as he was. With thoughts of a cozy bed by a warm fire, Aelerich fell asleep and dreamed about his days long past with his beloved Celwynn.


 
Shoulders: Pauldrons of the Wandering Bard, Navy Dye
Chest
: Scholar’s Vestments, GreyDye
Hands: Thick Cotten Gloves, Black Dye
Feet: Soft Leather Boots, Black Dye
Back: Ceremonial Cloak of the West Tower, Grey Dye

The Black Knight

Cedric rides his horse through Bree while trying to ignore the stares and gasps coming from the citizens. He was ostracized from the Gyaemdyn guard, an elite unit stationed in Angmar, for his reports of corruption among the senior commanders. The only way to restore order is to expose the corruption with solid evidence.


 

Waiting patiently for his informant, Cedric considers what his next move will be. If he receives the evidence he needs, he can take it to the Bree-town authorities to plead his case.


 

To Cedric’s dismay, the informant says that he has the hard evidence, but that an old sage informed him that if he divulged the information, he would pay for it for the rest of his life. Cedric reacts with frustration and anger. The only thing the informant would divulge is the location of the sage: Glonir farm, in a small valley within Bree-land.


 

Ignoring the approaching storm, Cedric races to the Glonir farm in the hopes of finding the old sage. Nothing was going to stop him.


 
Head: Copper-Inlaid Helmet, Black Dye
Shoulders: Hill-Man’s Cracked Leather Shoulder-Guards, Black Dye 
Chest
: Scout’s Weathered Leather Jacket, Black Dye
Hands: Gauntlets of the Brazen Call, Black Dye
Feet: Light Buckled Boots, Black Dye
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Black Dye

Morning Stroll through a Quiet Town

Caelean goes for a morning stroll through her home town of Bree. It’s so early in the morning that the streets are empty, save for the shop owners preparing to open up for business.


 

Because it is so quiet, Caelean hears only the sounds of birds singing their songs. She looks around to see a few pecking at crumbs left on the stone road in front of the Prancing Pony.


 

Suddenly, they all flew away. Caelean watches them until they disappear off into the distance.


 

“Now what would make them fly away so suddenly? Maybe one decided breakfast was over, and it was time to leave… but to go where? Where do birds go when they fly from the safety of the town?”


 

A sudden urge to yawn caught Caelean by surprise. She knew it was time to return for breakfast herself, but… then what? Another sudden urge caught her by surprise… was it to find out where those birds went? Or to just find out for herself where she should fly away to after breakfast in the safety of Bree…?


 

Caelean decides that it was time to explore possible vocations. After thinking on it, she resolved to head out to Thorin’s hall after breakfast. Her mother wouldn’t understand, but maybe an old friend of the family would…


 
Head: Adamant Circlet, Washed
Shoulders: Padded Mantle of the Dunland Soothslayer, Sienna Dye
Chest
: Tattered Robe of the Dunland Sage, Rose Dye
Hands: Footman’s Gloves, Purple Dye
Feet: *coming soon*, Violet Dye
Back: Reveller’s Gilded Cloak , Purple Dye

Captain of the Watch

“A good Captain is always at the ready”


 

“What was that rustling? Was it just the wind? My imagination? Or something else…?”


 

Aelerich rejoices upon seeing his beloved Celwynn come to visit him.


 

Aelerich is taken aback when he finds out he missed their one-year anniversary of courtship.


 

So many missed dates has worn down the lonely Celwynn, and Aelerich missing their anniversary was the last straw. Aelerich, not able to leave his post, calls out in desperation as his beloved rides away…

 

Shoulders: Dented Pauldrons of the Dunland Clansman, Black dye
Chest
: Reinforced Dunlending Jacket, Red dye
Hands: Fine Grey Company Gauntlets, Washed
Feet: Fine Grey Company Boots, Washed
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Washed

Noble Determination

Iorgen was the uncle of Dáin II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills. He was honored to serve his nephew by watching over the Castle of Amli.


 

Iorgen was a noble, not just in name, but also in his heart. Taking care of the residents of his small castle was always a priority to him. He generally led a quiet life.


 

One evening, as Master Iorgen was dining with his close relatives, he was told of how one of his cousin’s sons, Thalni, had disappeared. Apparently Thalni had been in Esteldin doing some routine chores in the crafting hall when he was swayed by an elf promising mystical ways to enhance physical combat masteries. He had apparently followed the elf out of Esteldin, and no one has heard from him since.


 

After Iorgen and his tactical advisors poured over the maps of Eriador, they formulated a plan to form a search party for the wayward Dwarf. His advisors strongly advised that Iorgen remain at Castle Amli. They thought he was too “aged” to make the difficult journey. Iorgen wouldn’t hear such nonsense and scolded them.


 

Back in his private chambers, Master Iorgen gazes into the fire and tries to think about what is going on. What is this “mystical power” that this strange elf speaks of? It did not sit well with the wise old dwarf.


 

Iorgen’s concentration was broken when one of his guards came to inform him that the search party had left without him. The poor soldier tried to convince Iorgen that they were simply looking out for his welfare, but Iorgen gave him a lecture, ending with “I’ll show them what this old dwarf can do!”


 

Iorgen takes off for Eriador, leaving Castle Amli behind and not looking back.


 

After making the arduous journey to Eriador, Iorgen had asked everyone he came across if they had seen a dwarf resembling the description of Thalni. He finally got a lead…


 

Finally, he found the wayward dwarf, injured, but by what, he could not tell. Thalni’s eyes were glazed over, but even so, Iorgen could tell they were filled with shame and sorrow. Iorgen gently carried the injured dwarf to his ram and took him to the nearest town for recuperation.


 

Thalni, though certainly not himself, still had enough strength to convey to Iorgen what he had seen about a maze of underground tunnels with certain “hot spots” of mystical energies. The elf who led them there called herself “Lady Gweleth”. Thalni had followed her from Esteldin to the Lone lands where he caught up with her and remained in her company ever since. His mind had been foggy when they went into these tunnels on an expedition, but something went wrong, and he couldn’t remember what happened. Iorgen resolved to find out.


 

Arriving at the coordinates of the tunnel maze entrance, Iorgen is horrified to see the abandoned remains of deceased dwarves. “What manner of evil resides in here?”


 

As Iorgen explored the vast complex of caverns and tunnels, he could feel internal strength building within. He started to become concerned that he was falling prey to a nefarious source of ancient evil, and in an effort to keep himself safe from this influence, he resolved to remain a humble servant of his people and his King.


 

His search brought him to rooms which had elven decor, of course in ruins now. “What manner of elven complex is this?”


 

Before he could continue his thoughts, he was attacked by a goblin! Iorgen wasn’t armed, but he was strong… “C’mon you, let’s see what you got!”


 

Unfortunately, the goblin attacker was soon joined by other goblins crawling out of the darkness, and soon the noble dwarf found himself in a position where he knew he couldn’t win.


 

After stripping Iorgen of his helm, the goblins locked him up in a cell. Iorgen wasn’t sure to consider it a blessing that they didn’t kill him outright, or curse because they had some insidious plans for him. All he knew was his whereabouts were only known to the injured Thalni, and no one else knew where he was presently recuperating. Would Thalni recover in time to summon help for the Master of Castle Amli? Only the Maker knew…


  
Head: Ceremonial Himhar, Washed
Shoulders: Ceremonial War-Captain’s Shoulders, Purple Dye
Chest
: Tattered Robe of the Dunland Sage, Purple Dye
Hands: Gauntlets of the Sunlands, Purple Dye
Feet: Raddir’s Heavy Boots, Purple Dye
Back: Wizard’s Cloak of the Rider, Purple Dye

Don’t quit your day job

Barliman tried to encourage his friend Aelerich to try a vocation as a minstrel, but he wasn’t so sure about this. He felt too conspicuous in the bright-colored outfit. But, his friend told him that if he wanted to succeed at winning Celwynn back, this was the way to go. “Women love a guy who sings.  Don’t ask me why,” the bartender mused with a grunt.  And of course, if he was going to convince anyone he was a minstrel-in-training, he had to dress the part…


 

The barkeep tried to convince Aelerich that the best audience to please is a bunch of ale-happy hobbits. And it just so happens that there was a big festival in the Shire. “Fake it till you make it, he says…” The reluctant Aelerich never quite came to a decision… he simply resolved to go to the Shire to check things out.


 

Once in the Shire, Aelerich tried asking a local about the Festival at the Party Tree. The scowling hobbit shortly replied that the ones who were “into that sort of thing” hung out at the local bar down the road.


 

The barkeep at the Bird and Baby Inn (what an odd name for a bar, at least to Aelerich) told him how friendly the Shire folks were, and that he would be warmly received. In fact, tonight happened to be Open-Mic night, just after sundown. “What luck!” the hobbit exclaimed. Aelerich seemed less enthusiastic at first, but he was starting to warm up to this comforting hobbit.


 

Aelerich, bolstered by the encouragement from the local barkeep, made the decision to give it a try. “I can do this! I can sing! Just like I did when I was a kid!”


 

Once on stage, Aelerich felt the adrenalin rush as he started to sing for his audience.


 

With a last burst of romanticism, Aelerich really poured it on as his completed his finale.


 

With eyes closed, Aelerich let out a dramatic sigh of contentment as he reached for the audience in a symbolic gesture, signifying that they were now connected somehow through his artistic singing. “I did it! I’m an artist… and these are my people… and I love them…”


 

With a sweeping gesture, and his eyes still closed to savour the moment, Aelerich takes his bow. The audience was awfully quiet though… he must have mesmerized them! “They must feel as I do…. so free… ohhh so free…..”


 

Once he straightened up from his bow, he finally looked at his audience… except… there wasn’t one. At least, not any more. “Where’d everybody go?”


 

“Seriously, where’d everybody go?”


 

Devastated, Aelerich tries to find consolation from one of the busboys as he was cleaning up. The busboy was trying to be helpful… “You could always take up an instrument. And while you’re getting good at it, I think we have openings for seasonal work while the festival is going on…”
Aelerich didn’t hear much of the hobbit’s advice, save for one part: “You could always take up an instrument…”


 
Chest : Jacket of Might, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Head: Tindr’s Ward, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Shoulders: Barrow-Scholar’s Shoulder Pads, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Hands: Quickpost Gloves, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Legs: Limdur Trousers, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Feet: Shoes of Might, Ered Luin Blue Dye
Back: Reveller’s Gilded Cloak, Ered Luin Blue Dye

The Rural Constable

Watching over a small rural town is challenging… it can be difficult to remain vigilant when the town is relatively undisturbed.


 

The Constable notices mischief across the town center.


 

The Constable drags the delinquent burglar into the local tavern to give him a lecture.


 

After correcting the young delinquent, the Constable eats a modest meal and reflects on his vocation, acknowledging that battles both big and small are worth fighting…

 

Head: Adventurer’s Hat, Black Dye
Shoulders: Padded Mantle of the Dunland Soothslayer, Umber Dye
Chest
: Breatplate of Loyalty, Black Dye
Hands: Ornate Gauntlets of the Dunland Swordsman, Rust Dye
Legs: Resilient Trousers, Black Dye
Feet: Boots of the Eorlingas
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Sienna Dye

Searching for Answers

While investigating the tombs under the Forsaken Inn, Archaeologist Kyleigh found some ancient runes which bore the crest of her family. The problem is that the runes also speak of an ancient darkness, and how these tombs are reserved for those who embraced it.


 

“Now why would our crest be emblazoned on these runes? Maybe I made a mistake in translation… Hopefully I have made a mistake…”


 

Determined to find the history of the ancient runes, Kyleigh asks around the local settlements to see if anyone had heard about them. Most of the locals would hurry away after hearing Kyleigh’s story. Only one would speak to her, and even then, Kyleigh could see the woman was strained. She provided directions to an apparently unmarked grave, and then turned on her heals and walked away before Kyleigh could ask any more questions.


 

Kyleigh readies her pick to excavate for possible answers that may help her understand her family’s mysterious past. She didn’t understand the relevance of being sent to dig up an unmarked grave, but she was about to find out…


 

Head: Adventurer’s Hat, Sienna Dye
Shoulders: Threadbare Cloth Shoulderpads, Sienna Dye
Chest
: Thornley’s Robe, Rose Dye
Hands: Gloves of Fem, Sienna Dye
Feet: Brushed Leather Boots, Sienna Dye
Rune-Satchel: Basic Rune-Satchel of Dagor, Rose Dye

Armour for a Lady

“Well… it seemed like a good idea at the time…” Caelean started to have second thoughts about coming to see her father’s best friend, a dwarven armourer in Thorin’s hall. At least he accommodated her request that she not look like a giant tin can. Still… metal pinches. “Too bad Fjorn couldn’t do anything about that, but at least he was able to craft the armour in my favourite color!”

 

Caelean practices the moves that Fjorn teaches her. She started to think she could get the hang of this! (Pinching metallic clothes, notwithstanding…)

 

Her first assignment… graveyard shift on the top of a rainy mountain in the middle of nowhere. “I was looking for adventure, but this guard duty is the pits.”

 

Caelean tries to stay awake… “Oooh is that a bug? Aha, I’ll get you now, little bug!”

 

“EEEIIIiiiyyyyeeeeee” Caelean let out an involuntary squeal and luckily dodged a swipe from the little bug’s apparent protector, a much MUCH larger bug… Oh dear, what has our unlikely heroine got herself into…?

 

After running away from Weathertop, Caelean goes back to Thorin’s hall to complain. Fjorn, a very patient dwarf, reassures her that fighting giant bugs (and other unpleasant creatures) is much easier with a shield. She’s not particularly happy about having to lug the thing around, but she trusts the old family friend. Now she just has to learn how to use the unwieldy thing…

Head: Circlet of Men, Washed
Shoulders: Sellsword Shoulder Guards, Sea Blue Dye
Chest
: Treasure-Hunter’s Armour, White Dye
Hands: Hall General’s Gauntlets, White Dye
Legs: Leggings of Loyalty, Sea Blue Dye
Feet: Brushed Leather Boots, Sienna Dye
Back: Elf-Lord’s Cloak, Sea Blue Dye