Agamaur

Arzal Ravencloak had never been a man of idle talk. His boots seldom lingered long in one place but on one dusky evening, as the hearths crackled and shadows danced across the walls of The Prancing Pony, a grim-faced knave whispered something that gave even Arzal pause. It was one of the spies he employed.

“Trouble stirs in the east,” the man muttered, eyes darting toward a darkened corner of the inn. “The dead don’t stay buried in the Lone-lands.”

Atharann had left the safety of the valley not too long after arriving. On his way out he found Mildwynn along the road. With her he spoke briefly of matters and concerns and with her he left Nír, his loyal hawk, so she had a way to contact him. Now he truly was off alone again, in search of dark black stones of dread and terror. But fear them he does not for he is well equiped to deal with them. For the longest part of the day he searched the far regions of the Trollshaws to no avail and thus decided to travel eastwards ever more.

Braigion stared at the reflection of himself in the water, mouthing and quietly whispering words. Whatever happened during the time where his memory is blank, it probably contributed to the fact he had improved lot in understanding people and even speaking their language.

Lamaenon was a good communicator, the Avar gave the ellon credit for that…and his impeccable timing. That was twice now the silver-head came right when the situation was dire; unless he accounted saving Eltawĭnā from the undead.

Leaning against a high wall built by Men in centuries past, Lômizimril considered her options. What was she thinking, walking up to the Red Pass and declaring herself as Mornalpheth of Dol Amroth, then declaring herself later on as Dovirien?

It has been a week since I arrived at the Eglain encampment in Ost Guruth, and through aiding in their daily tasks, as well as assistance in eliminating local warg packs an orc raiding bands, they have granted me an audience with their elder. A wise man, whom they hold in high regard and knows much of the land's history, he confided in me a lead, a possible source of the expanding corruption in the woods.

[19.11.2007]

"A field of battle!" Lindeman said to Cooper Basilleaf. "Angmar keeps pouring
troops into that fortress, and every other adventurer in Agamaur will go
there to search the ruins."
Lindeman examined his shoulder guards, now repaired.
"Me and Jeric are going back."
 

Kuzgun walked towards to the house which stands over the green hill, with dancing steps moving rhythmical with the music she could still hearing in her ears. Or maybe it was her heart singing with joy.