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 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
: 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 
: 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

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
: Reinforced Dunlending Jacket, Red dye
Hands: Fine Grey Company Gauntlets, Washed
Feet: Fine Grey Company Boots, Washed
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Washed

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
: 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

Winter Warmth

Ceanna looks around for the dwarves to warn them of the impending blizzard that is about to arrive.


Ceanna’s search takes her to Gondamon.


The snow starts to come down harder, so she gives up and starts thinking about heading back to Thorin’s Hall.


The snow comes faster than she expects, and the intrepid adventurer needs to find her horse and head home quickly.


Her horse isn’t thrilled with the weather either, though the Lossoth breed has exceptionally long hair to deal with the cold.


Back at her home, Ceanna tried to thaw out in front of the fire. She hopes all of the dwarves were able to find shelter in time…


Shoulders: Hill-man’s Cracked Leather Shoulder-Guards, White dye 
: Reinforced Leather Dunlending Jacket , White dye
Hands: Ornate Gauntlets of the Dunland Swordsman, Washed
Feet: Ajokoira Shoes, Navy dye
Back: Fancy Snow-Cloak, Navy dye


Gweleth has mastered the fine art of runic studies, but she seeks power beyond that which she understands. After being courted by a traveler who said he was from Imlad Morgul, she was fascinated by his stories of communing with the craven, thus providing Sight that was available only to an elite few. Here, Gweleth performing a ritual dance to attract the craven, and she believes she has received a vision.


After receiving her “vision”, Gweleth tries to persuade the locals of Esteldin to follow her into Angmar to embrace a “true vocation” in the perfection of both physical might and tactical power.


Some of the locals don’t care for Gweleth’s message, and they try to run her out of the settlement. She tries to soothe them by telling them it was just an innocent misunderstanding, and that they could form a strong army in Angmar under her direction simply for the benefit of the free peoples.


After the unfortunate failure to rally the troops at Esteldin, Gweleth believes that a more subtle plan would work to recruit people to her cause. She learns how to create dark runes, a practice which was somehow connected to the avatars of ancient evil. She tried to calm her own misgivings about the source of the runic black arts by telling herself they would bring peace and prosperity to the free peoples if used properly. And to her, that’s all that mattered. And now to find someone to guide her…


There was something about being in the presence of Sauramon that made Gweleth go weak in the knees. Was it awe? Or pure dread? She could not tell. All she knew was that she was being sent on a personal mission for the wise majar…


Racing to the lone lands, Gweleth could feel the adrenalin pulse through her body. She never felt more important in her life…

Head: Scout’s Weathered Leather Helmet, Washed
Shoulders: Gleaming Shoulders of Might, Black Dye
: High Herald’s Armour, White Dye
Hands: Elegant Silk Gloves, White Dye
Legs: Embroidered Silk Leggings, White Dye
Feet: Elven Leather Boots, Black Dye
Back: Reveller’s Gilded Cloak , Black Dye

Assassin’s Creed

Morgana was strolling down Bree’s main street when she overheard an argument between a citizen and a prisoner. She didn’t quite catch all of the conversation, but it was something about a farm burning down…

Morgana listens intently as the prisoner claims his innocence.

Morgana couldn’t believe that the prisoner was being held with no physical evidence. The prison guard seemed uninterested in Morgana’s dismay, and she advised her to go speak to the mayor about it.

After the mayor told Morgana that evidence wasn’t needed when the witness was an upstanding citizen, she gave him a lecture. There wasn’t even a real witness, apparently… the prisoner just happened to be passing through, and he did say he saw smoke coming from the woman’s farm…

Believing the politicians are no help, Morgana decides to take matters into her own hands to gain justice for both the prisoner and the farmer — by finding the true arsonist! The vigilante sets out on her mission. First, she finds tracks by the burnt down farm.

She knows what kindof tracks those are… goblins! She stills herself and closes her eyes, listening in the night for her prey…

Morgana hears the eerie sounds of celebrating goblins in the distance. She readies for battle!

Morgana finds the leader and knows she only has one shot… and she takes it!

The goblin leader falls with a swift arrow from Morgana’s bow, but now a mob of angry goblins start racing toward her! It’s time to disappear…

Morgana’s steed of the gloaming quietly gallops away into the darkness of the forest before the goblins ever caught even a glimpse of them. Her victory was bittersweet, for though she had taken care of the leader (for now), she knew another will take his place. The question still burned in Morgana’s mind… why would they burn down a farm of a common ordinary citizen? She had the feeling this battle was not really over…

Head: Worn Ranger’s Hood, Black Dye
Shoulders: Padded Mantle of the Dunland Soothsayer, Black Dye
:Enduring Jacket of Protection, Black Dye
Hands: Cerygaim, Black Dye
Legs: Leggings of Tharbad, Black Dye
Feet: Soft Leather Boots, Black Dye
Back: Cloak of the Grey Company, Black 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
: Hauberk of the Westfold
Hands: Gauntlets of the Eastemnet
Feet: Boots of the Eastemnet
Back: Cloak of the Westfold