Nethrida

“What…what by the horde of Ancalagon goes on here!!!” shouted Gareth Steelheart, Captain of the Hounds of Anarion as he stood surveying the wreckage of the upstairs chamber of the Thirsty Seer.

Over Gareth’s shoulder, the barkeep Emery surveyed the room with dismay. “You maniacs...do you know how much this flooring COST ME!!!????'

The screams formed into a guttural voice as a fell spirit rose up out of the tokens and the shards of the blade. "FINALLLLLLYYY!!! It took you WORMS long enough!!!!

Xanderian woke slowly, from dreams of darkness and anxiety. Strange flowing blends of dread and an almost erotic anticipation that left her unsettled in a myriad of ways. As her eyes opened, she heard voices nearby at the map table, and rose up on her elbows in the silken sheets for a better view.

Eduwiges of Faldham rode in through a small side gate on the massive oval wall of Minas Tirith. The detritus of battle engraved on her from helm to boots. Weariness darkened her face like a starless night weighed down by gravity. Normally graceful in her movements she clambered down off of Oenone and staggered as her legs took the weight of her body. Eduwiges stepped forward and wrapped her adrenaline weakened arms around her steed’s neck in love and gratitude.

(Most of the tale below take place in the year TA3012)