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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Werewolf III - Game Thread (teaser - not open yet)


Tanuchan

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Teaser ;-) Please see this post for details/sign-up.

 

 

 

 

Middle-Earth, sometime between Bilbo coming back from his great adventure and his 111th birthday party.

 

Bilbo is now back to Bag End, enjoying a relatively calm and hobbit-like life (maybe with the exception of the stories he shares with the young ones), with no major worries except avoiding the Sackville-Bagginses whenever they are around. But strange tidings come from time to time even through the (unknowingly guarded) borders of the Shire; news from the world outside, from the Dwarves, the Big People, and even Elves that wander the Woodland.

They are strange tidings, telling of the sightings of evil creatures, of orcs and wargs, and fell men who sow discord and seek riches and power. They talk about the East, of the Shadow that grows in the forest beyond the great mountains, beyond the Misty Mountains with its snowy peaks, and takes ever growing portions of Mirkwood, once Greenwood the Great. And they also talk of even more distant lands, East-and-South, down the course of Anduin, the Great River, on its east bank beyond the fair land of Ithilien in the kingdom-of-Gondor-that-was. They tell of black smoke issuing from somewhere beyond the ranges of the Ash Mountains and the Mountains of Shadow, Ered Lithui and Ephel Dúath in the language of old.

They tell, in whispers, of some evil sorcery escaping Dol Guldur and seeking the Tower of Black Sorcery, Minas Morgul that was once fair and shone with the light of the rising Moon. And then they silence, for enclosed by those mountains is the Black Land that few dare to name.

This is a time for adventure, for those staunch hearts that seek hope, or great deeds, or a glimpse of the ancient days when the Men of the West came for their last alliance with the Elves. The Shadow is not yet strong enough, although growing, always seeking their enemies and the great power that was robbed by Isildur, Elendil's son of Westernesse.

The Great East Road brings news, and The Greenwood coming from the South towards the deserted North, and in Bree by the Bree-Hill they cross and find those thirsty by tales and knowledge, be they Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, or any of the races that still inhabit Middle-Earth. In the Prancing Pony they gather, and a group is to travel together and seek council in the hidden lands beyond Rhudaur of old, at the foot of the Misty Mountains where it's said that the Wise still live. And from there - where hither?

For tales have been growing of the Ring being somewhere between the Mitheitel and the Anduin rivers, and between the Ninglor river and the Sea. And there's no lack of those who wish to search that land, and deny the Enemy its Power.


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You are one such adventurer, who is willing to search not only for the One Ring, but maybe even find where the Three, the Seven, or the Nine are - they are at most a matter of legend, and if anything is known of their fate, the stories you've heard do not tell. As they do not tell whether there's any left that Sauron has not found and used for its own purposes. Or maybe you have joined the party that is now at the Prancing Pony in Bree for your own reasons, not necessarily disclosed to your companions in this journey; for there's truth in the tales that talk about the Wise beyond the Last Bridge on the Hoarwell, and in Rivendell there is counsel that can be taken by those willing to hear.

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