Fresh from a revelation his missing daughter may well be Caethir’s friend, Faeladar attempts to pull together for the attempt to leave Bree. Meanwhile, Hanawen sizes up the Elf, not sure whether to distrust him, be jealous of him or be envious of her sister.
← Previous: Not So Much to Do Having spent so much time together that day, Barliman had tried to offer back the coin for their food but had been flatly refused. While he tried to do good by folk, he was grateful, but conflicted, when he had been told to keep hold of it. They […]
What was she even doing here? Was this just another fruitless endeavor or was there tangible merit in it? She sighed and pulled Athearyn((Name made up of athea, meaning “helpful” and ryn, meaning “chaser” or “hound of the chase” – See the Sindarin reference I use)), her hound, close. The water rippled gently down the […]
The dense mist seemed to have no end. To the group’s relief, however, the wights seemed to have ceased their attacks, at least for the timing being. The idea that they would reach Dead Man’s Perch anytime soon had been forced out of their minds as a desperate search for their missing fellowship members ensued. […]
The company ventured out of the Old Forest, led by Herynglas and ascended a small incline, which opened up to reveal the undulating mounds of the Barrow-Downs. Caethir motioned to them to stop, while he scanned the land for the most efficient route to Dead Man’s Perch. He, along with Herynglas and Faeladar were all […]