Prologue: Riding into Dunland
King Théoden has gone silent. No more orders are issued. No feasts being held. Nothing. In Helm's Deep Erkenbrand, Lord of Westfold is getting deeply concerned for his King. And for the Nation. King Théoden refuse to appoint a Second and Third Marshal of the Mark. To signs of inactivity are added those of distrust. And the Kings Advisor, Gríma, seems unintrested, or rather incapable of guiding the King out of the mists and into the light.
On the western border scouts report sightings of orcs. And worse. They bear the mark of a mysterious white hand. Not a know warlord in Dunland, nor elsewhere. Saruman, Rohans old ally in Isengard has little information to give. Who is the commander of these foul creatures of destruction? From Gondor come accusations that Rohan is sending their finest horses to the Dark One himself and that Rohan and Mordor have formed a secret alliance. Lord Erkenbrand a retired Marshal of the Mark can no longer remain inactive.
Looking for a trace of the origin of the orcs of the White hand raging along river Isen on the western borders of Westfold a handful of Rohirrim, under the command of Lord Thérowan, son of Erkenbrand, has been sent into Dunland by Erkenbrand himself. King Théoden in Edoras has shown only the slightest interest in the matter of threatening orcraids and Erkenbrad has not wasted time informing his King about the small group of six riders flashing past the Ford of Isen into Dunland on their Mearas. The rumours in villages along Bruinen lead them far away from Rohan, all the way to northern Eriador.
And thus the tale begins...