Adventuring in the Third Age

Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion.

Adventurers are often simply common individuals born in exceptional times. They have most likely led an ordinary life until the day something happened and changed the way they looked at their world and the people they knew. For some reason, the place they grew up in didn’t look as interesting and boundless as before, or they started to realise that they weren’t doing enough for the safekeeping of their loved ones by staying at home in idleness, pretending shadows weren’t growing nearer and nearer every year.

Adventurers are not soldiers or mercenaries following the commands of a lord, nor are they subtle Wizards trying to weave the threads spun by fate — they are bold souls putting themselves in peril of their own free will, sometimes simply for the love of adventure itself.

The Folk of Eriador

West of Wilderland, between the Misty Mountains and the Sea, is the region of Eriador. Right in its middle is found the Shire of the Hobbits, a quiet land whose folk enjoy a secluded life behind guarded borders. Across the river Brandywine, east of the Shire, lies the Bree-land, a small inhabited region, rising like an island in the midst of the Lone-lands about it.

The Bree-land is traversed by the East-West Road, and in its chief village of Bree is The Prancing Pony, a resort for all weary travellers. These are mainly Dwarves of the Folk of Durin, going east to their far Kingdom Under the Mountain, in Wilderland, or west, on their way to the Blue Mountains. Sometimes, they travel in the company of Northmen from distant Dale, subjects of King Bard the Dragonslayer.

According to ancient stories, the region of Eriador was once the realm of Arnor, a great kingdom of the North, brought to ruin long ago by bitter strife and the machinations of the Enemy. Much of it is now forgotten, for the memory of mortals is short, and the days of the king are celebrated only in songs and proverbs devoid of their original meaning.

But some remember — the mysterious Rangers of the North, lonely hunters of the servants of the Enemy who guard all boundaries against Wights and Trolls, as do the long-lived Elves of Lindon, that at times leave their land along the western coasts to wander across Eriador, to witness with their immortal eyes the fading of the glories of the past. The land of the Lost Realm of Arnor is described in detail in Chapter 9: The World, starting on page 176.