Rohan

Whether it's resupplying outposts, smoking out a warg den, or skirmishing with Dunlendings that wander across the Isen, a Rider's work is never finished. Weekly patrols do their part to keep the peace, but everything escalates eventually. Join The Oathsworn and their allies as they patrol the Mark, giving aid where its needed and keeping Rohan safe. 

It is two weeks since the New Year fires blazed across the hills of Dunland, when the brave among Wulf’s clans swore to honour their ancestors and stalk the path to Rohan to plant a reminder of their reach.

The shallow ford just west of Edoras often hosts travelers to and from the throne-hall of Rohan, but on early-week afternoons, the servants and common-folk of Edoras gather at the swift-running waters to do the week's washing. The hours are spent sharing stories and gossip, offering welcome or directions to passers-by at the ford, or chatting idly with fishermen, wanderers, and other gatherers at the water's edge.

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When a new cart of mead arrives at Edoras, one keg is rolled to the centre of the tavern for all to take freely, in the name of our fallen riders and all our honoured dead.  This night we drink to their memory, for they would have us spend our breath on song, and tale, and laughter.

The shallow ford just west of Edoras often hosts travelers to and from the throne-hall of Rohan, but on early-week afternoons, the servants and common-folk of Edoras gather at the swift-running waters to do the week's washing. The hours are spent sharing stories and gossip, offering welcome or directions to passers-by at the ford, or chatting idly with fishermen, wanderers, and other gatherers at the water's edge.

The garrison at Fréasburg have reported a wargpack menacing the farms and homesteads that supply and surround the frontier fortress. The commander of the oath-bound warband has given his word they be dealt with. The company rides out with the goal of wiping these enemies from the hills. 

Rohirric spring festival in Snowbourn.

“...his desires towards Rohan, though he hid them, were evil.”

The bright helms and hauberks have rusted. The horses lie broken in the field. The spears of the dead litter the Isen-bank like reeds. Rohan is ready to fall.

Or so is Saruman’s hope.

Come all to Aldburg for this year's annual Foaling Festival!  As the young horses are born, we celebrate their mother's success with games, competitions, vendors, and feasts. 

​Ēalā, wes hāl!

We hereby invite all Eorlingas and friends of the Horse-lords to come to Harwick, a settlement in the Wold, famous with its riding academy. The Reeve of the Wold, Aldor of Eastemnet welcomes you to gather in his fine Mead hall!