Casual Stroll to Mordor

This is Part 2 of the “Under the Eaves” story by Mericc of Nimrodel.

We have a brand new story submitted for us to share with the CSTM audience. This story is by Mericc of Nimrodel.

Hey fellow Burglars and those aspiring to become one! I am known to many as Gabo or Beo, and today I have put up the first of a several articles about Burglars that will hopefully help those seeking basic knowledge about this fun class.

The Tarciryan Knights are celebrating our second anniversary on Saturday, September 29, and we’d like to invite you to come celebrate with us.

Well, after hours of haggling over the arrangements with Adso, we finally managed to work out a deal with him and have secured a campsite for our first Campfire Revelry! He is never going to get that inn finished anyway…

I found something of personal interest in the patch notes. Tucked deep in the notes, about halfway through “Town Services, NPCs, Vendors,” is this terse explanation: “Soldier rank traits have had their prices significantly reduced.”

With new yule cosmetics available with update 5.1, thoughts have turned back to Winterhome quests before the festival ends.

After leaving his sister on the banks of the Brandywine, Dill had run through the dark of the night, darting from shadow to shadow, imagining goblin cries on every breath of wind.

Looking around the bank, now that it was decided that they would be attacking the goblin encampment, Beldrieth frowned.

Looking around the bank, now that it was decided that they would be attacking the goblin encampment, Beldrieth frowned.

Brassica tightened her grip on the knife hilt, and lifted it to strike at the hand that scrabbled at the riverbank, when a voice called softly from the darkness outside the halo of light and safety cast by her fire.

Brassica tightened her grip on the knife hilt, and lifted it to strike at the hand that scrabbled at the riverbank, when a voice called softly from the darkness outside the halo of light and safety cast by her fire.

“Perian,” the elf whispered, and even though he spoke softly, the sound of a voice so near her ear snapped Brassica from her dreams and into wakefulness.

The Battles at the Fords of the Isen are regarded as the opening conflict of the War of the Ring proper, though they were by no means the first clash among the major combatants.

A shriek of triumph had erupted from the goblin as he charged at Brassica, his spear held high above him, ready to stab down into her soft flesh, but instead there was a sudden, solid impact against the object she’d grabbed in the grass.