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

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

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

Strength and Diplomacy

Caelean, about to leave for a diplomatic mission in the north, took a little time to enjoy the fresh air of her Bree-land neighborhood. This was going to be a complicated mission, but she decided to put off thinking about it for now.


 

She always liked the waterfall that was a short distance from her house. In fact, she enjoyed waking up to the sounds of the falling waters splashing into the otherwise-calm waterhole.


 

The sun was going down, and it was getting late. She couldn’t put off the trip any longer. Neither could she put off thinking about her mission. “Why would the Lossoth mistrust us so badly? What did we do?”


 

Caelean started to focus on the task at hand, which became easier after mounting up onto her steed. The horse was adorned with the special-issue ceremonial armour signifying a diplomatic representative of the Stangard armies. She was proud to be selected for this assignment, albeit tempered by waves of apprehension because so much was at stake.


 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted. The magnificent horse must have sensed his rider’s apprehension, because he started acting up for no apparent reason.


 

Caelean may not be used to wearing metallic armour just yet, but she was an expert at horsemanship. She brought the steed under control relatively quickly and made her way out of the neighborhood, then started heading on the long journey north.


 

So, she didn’t realize Forochel was THAT far north. Caelean certainly didn’t dress for the occasion…


 

Caelean was further unprepared to deal with the extent of the apparent pervasive suspicion of the Lossoth peoples. After discussing it with the guard, she found out why: They heard reports of dark magics being practiced from within Rhovonian, and they thought the Rohirrim were embracing them! After an extended dialogue with the guard, she managed to convince him that they too were fighting the leaders of the practicers of this ancient evil, and he finally let her through.


 

Wasting no time, she rushes up the stairs to the leader of the Lossoth. The door guard yelled “Let her through!”, or she would’ve no doubt been tackled before she hit the first step.


 

Caelean explains the whole misunderstanding to the Lossoth leader, then tries to persuade him to assist the armies of the Stangard in the fight against Sarumon. The leader seemed to be staring coldly at Caelean while she explained the whole story, but at the end, he did not hesitate to commit to the cause.


 

Before making the long journey home, the exhausted Caelean breathes a sigh of relief, and closes her eyes to meditate briefly. She could hear the soft whispering of the wind as it passed over the snow-covered lands, smell the cold crisp air with just a hint of shore life, feel the bitter cold of the metal armour against her skin, in contrast to the warm glow in her heart. It was a close call, but she managed to prevent a disaster with the Lossoth people. They showed trust in her, and thus in her people. And right now, Stangard could use all the friends they could get….


  
Head: Helm of the Eastemnet
Shoulders: Shoulders of the Eastemnet
Chest
: Hauberk of the Westfold
Hands: Gauntlets of the Eastemnet
Feet: Boots of the Eastemnet
Back: Cloak of the Westfold