Prologue

General Summary

"Most times I'm not one to complain about the cold," the dwarf belched, "but that wind last night was chill enough to freeze yer jonnies."
The frozen waste of the Winter has finally broken.
Most folk have no memory of a Winter so harsh or long lasting, though some long lived dwarves and elves might speak of years which suffered worse. They can also attest that such cruel seasons ofttimes foretold the coming of an evil hand upon the world.
But with the recession of the bitter cold, the peoples of Eriador have little thought for grim tidings. A warm sun and gentle rain has heralded a Spring nearly a month late and there was work aplenty to keep a mind off ominous forebodings.
You spent the bulk of the long Winter hunkered down in the village of Bree. As is the common practice among outsiders, you boarded with locals, paying your way by lending a hand with chores and the like. Like many of the villagers, you spent most nights at the Prancing Pony, reveling in the tall tales of inkeeper Barnabas Butterbur and the raucous songs of the grey bearded Dwarf, Luki.
With the snows melting and the roads becoming passable, strangers and rumors began filtering into the village. Eerie sightings within the Chetwood. Trouble along the Greenway. Talk of spiders the size of hounds spotted near the South Downs. Packs of large wolves roaming the Weather Hills.
Still, as you walk through the muddy streets of Bree, an excitement for the new Spring stirs the air. Farmers whistle happy tunes as they busy themselves with the work of a long overdue planting season. Shopkeeps smile and wave at passersby, bragging on new shipments 'expected any day now'. The village of Bree seemed to have breathed a sigh of relief, sure that the worst was long behind them and best left forgotten.
But you taste something different upon the undercurrent of the Spring breeze. Something dangerous.
Something closing in.

Report Date

27 Dec 2022