Angmar

“Sire, your armour is excellent, but may I suggest something?” said Naraal as he stood before the decrepit old house with the wolf’s head device carved upon its ancient oaken door.

Naraal could not help but wonder what he had gotten himself into. Angmar had never featured highly on his ‘places to visit’ list, yet here he was, sitting in the shade of a rock, in bleak inhospitable lands, keeping an eye on a bunch of Angmarrim who were about to sacrifice someone they had captured on a wayside altar.

So it was;

The last camp of the Angmarin was razed, looted and burned. The bodies of the enemies, thrown into the Sea as an offering to the hungry spirits that always look for souls to absorb.

Once again, Forochel can breathe and return to his life, far from the world, far from evil.

Dragnar, War Diary

More than a month ago, we were alerted by a recent invasion of Angmarin in Forochel, our land. As soon as we could, we took our equipment and headed north again to defend our homes.

Our land is harsh, hostile...we have grown up in it but our enemies have not, and every day we find more bodies frozen, devoured or in the last moments of life. Forochel does not need walls... Forochel is a natural wall.

Asmalinde looked down upon the dark canyon. Her elf eyes were unable to penetrate the veil of darkness below her. It had been a difficult trek making it this far. Asmalinde’s arms and legs ached from the exertion of climbing. She had found a large crack in the granite surface of the mountain. The elleth had used handholds, finger grooves and natural depressions in the unyielding surface to make her way up. Twice she almost fell, scraping her skin and knees with contusions.

Catrena led our company on a path through dead and dying tree groves, through a valley that ran across the land like a spear-stab, headed north-east, nearest I could see.  All along the way, she told us gruesome stories of the land, what people and creatures were here – and all the while breathing this foul air which, according to her, came from a poisonous swamp and

(Being a narrative derived from notes in Lancogard North-took’s Life-book)