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Towerglan

Arrival at Towerglan

What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: AI Generated/Influenced

Enough is enough! For too long has Lovejoy been living in a confined, stuffy room above the workshop in Bree. It’s high time he found himself a suitable place to settle, but that won’t be easy. On his travels, he chanced upon what was once, no doubt, a remarkable home. The location was perfect, within spitting distance of the road to Bree. This was it, this was the place!

Chronicle: Tales of the Lost Realm

Author: 

OOC: A collection of narratives, journal entries, and story fragments chronicling the return of the Dúnedain to Cardolan, the founding of Towerglan, and the lives woven together through the effort to rebuild. Told from the perspective of Arnethir, and others.

"Stone and Song"

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Author’s Note: This piece recounts a series of live-RP sessions I participated in with the 'Men of the Lost Realm'. The narrative has been shaped with a little help from AI.

Gathered Thoughts - Visits to Towerglan

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

A series of written thoughts stashed away in a box of parchment, written meticulously and precisely, as if the writer had taken great pains to make their handwriting as legible and clear as possible. The handwriting plods along at a steady pace, but some crossed out words pop up here and there.

Under the Tree

What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: Artscreen

Rowan and Silver sitting comfortably beneath a tree in Towerglan.

(For those interested, I do take commissions.)

Source: 
I made it.

A House Is Not A Home

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

It had been quite a peaceful little morning in the town of Towerglan. Home to the mercenary company known as 'The Bloody Dawn', and many of its forces. All was quiet, and serene. Birds happily floated their way across the valley, shifting from branch to branch in their usual daily routine. Lovely chirps being heard, as the sun rose over the nearby hills, beating down upon a picturesque village. And then, accompanying the gentle rush of water from the nearby waterfall, was a bang. Followed by another. Steady beats of metal ringing out through the valley.

My innermost thoughts, XXXI. - One cold and moonlit eve.

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

It feels peculiar to have shorn hair once again. The fire is burning to keep out the winter chill. I do not know why I rode into town the nights past. Only so long you can pace the confines of your study. What to occupy myself with I wonder. There's only so long you can do the books and I would hardly proclaim crossing the i's and dotting the t's and toiling over pages brimming with numbers my idea of leisure. No, I needed to get out of there.

My innermost thoughts, XXII. - A new home.

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

The hill which houses the great hall once founded by a man I respected very much stands overlooking the whole village from it's vantage point. Even my house. There are many in this place that know me, or know of me. So why, did you then choose to reside in this place. As ever, I feel a pull in two different directions. One tugs me southwards in the direction of those Southern shores. But I also feel a desire to remain close by certain individuals. I informed the Captain's daughter of my desire for the former. I often feel as though I am a man with nothing left here.

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