They are proud and wilful, but they are true-hearted, generous in thought and deed; bold but not cruel; wise but unlearned, writing no books but singing many songs, after the manner of the children of Men before the Dark Years. — The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

This site belongs to The Rohirrim - the open for all kinship of Rohan - and every member is allowed to write here. The Muster of Rohan is a series of roleplaying events open for all rohirrim on Laurelin forming an Eored held previously held once every 5-8 weeks. We do not use a forum. The Quest is a number of letters sent to Erkenbrand from his son Therowan which describe the Epic campaign series as experienced by a handful members of The Rohirrim.


Report to Erkenbrand V: The Black Rider

Dear Father,

My body is bitten by the freezing cold of the high and impressive Misty Mountains and I can hardly hold the quillpen in my hand. Not only is the hand trembling from the cold, thinking back on our last meeting with the Enemy is even more cause for shivering limbs.

Last time I wrote we were heading out of the Elven Kingdom of Rivendell to hunt down a Black Rider. The mountains led us to an outpost of dwarves seeking refuge in a camp where we met Lord Gloin. Gloin's people live in constant battle with both the unforgiving nature of the peaks of the Misty Mountains and the increasing number of goblins dwelling there.

In return of helping Lord Gloin recover some odd heirlom of his he told us of a traitorous tribe of dwarves that had turned againt him. What was worse, the evil dwarves had welcomed the Black Rider we were hunting. We followed the Black Rider and ended up fighting the Dourhand's wicked Dwarf Lord. The Black Rider escaped but Lord Gloin told us, after reading some parchments we returned to him from the Dourhands, that the Black Rider was likely hiding in some ancient dwarven stronghold named Helegrod, or rather in the treassury of that fortress.

We should never have followed. It was folly and I know it. But we were too deeply involved in the wellbeing of the bitter but not unfriendly dwarves, and there was still no sign of Strider. We rode out of Gloin's camp one morning, it was colder than usual. When we had managed to locate the entrance of the old treassury I saw on the large stonedoors and understood we would have to leave the Maeras behind. I should have turned back then. But we went on. After having led Riverfoam and the other steeds into the entrance and left them with blankets on while we continued into the maze, and towards our own doom.

After having lost our way countless times, at last we entered a huge hall, comparable even to Meduseld allthough carved out in the rock, and saw the Black Rider speaking to a few minions of his. On the ground in front of him was the dried up corpse of a long dead dragon. We should have run but stood almost paralyzed in the doorway when the Black Rider and his minions started to chant and reading out curses aloud.

What happened next is as much of a miracle as the fact that I am still alive to write you this letter. The dragon, obviously dead since decades, maybe centuries, slowly came alive. I am not lying to you. There, right in front of our eyes, the dragon was awakened by the Black Rider. How utterly foolish of us to have tried to hunt down such an invicible creature! The dragon soared up into the darkness of the cave and left the same way I presume it must have entered many years ago allthough I did not myself see any openings out into open air.

Then, at that moment, the Black Rider reliazed he wasnt alone with his minions any longer. He turned slowly in our direction and I felt the blood freeze to ice in my heart. He was upon us as rain or snow come out of the White Mountains, in no time. I barely got my shiled up before he cracked it in half with his ill-tended blade. The struggle, it would not be correct to call it a fight, was over in less than a minute. The Eored broke. Without our steeds we were like young boys fencing with wooden sticks against a foe that grabbed hold of your heart with a cold invisible hand, and squeezed your life out of it.

I awoke hours later. A deep cut in my shieldarm but no other visible wounds. The men were scattered on the cold dark rock. Less blood were covering it than fill six men. My hope returned quicker than I thought possible. I could see Fridgrim sit in a corner, pale face, like life was drained from him, mute. I walked around and checked on them one by one. Gundred, face painted with horrible nightmares. Thraindir in a cowering posture on the floor. Beotatha shield covering his head, knuckels gone white holding the sheiled. Wraecca, pale as ice, his right leg soaked in blood but not mortally wounded. It was a sad sight.

And still, we were all alive. Why the Black Rider spared us is a mystery. Not that there is much left of us. Our steeds where still in the entrance and on our ride back to Gloin I pondered much on whether we should simply return to the Mark. I dont know how we will react if put to a fight again. Maybe we will all break. I know not the answer while I write this to you from Gloin's camp but I will find out.

Perhaps we are not far from you, on our way home, when you read this. I have failed to honor You and your realm.

Your loyal blood


Muster of Rohan, part III: Sharkey's Men

The third event in the Rohirric campaign. The event will start monday September 1st 2008 at 1900 hrs BST (British summertime) and 2000 hrs CST (central european summertime) in a ruin on Eastern Breefields with a campsite.

Previous events
The Rohirrim have arrived into Breeland via Bruinen and Rhudaur sent out by Erkenbrand, the aging now former Marshal of the Mark (Muster of Rohan). While not suspecting Théoden King of in any way having lost control - the king's son Théodred is still patrolling the green hills of the Mark - Erkenbrand sense the immediate need to clear out who is Master of the 'White Hand Orcs'; naturally it cannot be the old ally Saruman, but someone hiding his true nature behind Saruman's well-known symbol. And tracks lead north into Eriador.

Rohirrim living in exile in and around Bree learn that a handfull of 'Horselords' of the south have arived to the lands. One by one, some decide to search for the rumoured Eored. Why have the come? Has war broken out at home? Is Théoden King alive and well? Are they simply new fugitives from the homeland after having commited some hideous crime? The Eored have continued to the Weahtherhills, east of the city of Bree. During their ride Thérowan, son of Erkenbrand, and his Eorlingas have thus recieved unforeseen reinforcements in form of exiled kinsmen.

The growing Eored is camping in the Eastern Breefields. Numerous orccamps in the region have been razed to the ground. In the last attack evidence of a traitor, possibly from Rohan and working as an agent for Saruman, was found in forms of orders he was delivering to the orcs. The orders need to be translated from some foul orc lagnuage to reveal more of Sarumans schemes in the north. Meanwhile rumours of the traitor living with the brigands in Chetwood have reached the Eored, and among them Freiwyn, who was stabbed by the traitor and left for dead, is looking for revenge.

The Event
We start at the camp with some swimming by the lake and awaiting word from a man helping out with reading the captured orders from Nan Watheren. The growing Eored then mounts up and rides to Combe and then further into Chetwood with a guide leading them to the Brigands outposts in Chetwood looking for signs of the traitor. Traces lead away from Chetwood and the Bree outsits and into the west. Somewhere near a little village of Oatbarton brigands have settled in and driving away the 'little folk' from their homes. The closest way there would supposedly be across some river named Brandywine, and then to the north. Hopefully we get the chance to meet some live little folk (whatever that is!) on our way to the new brigand lair.

Non Rohan characters
We are hoping to get a guide into Chetwood that will most likely be a Rohirrim. When riding into the Shire, however, we hope to get in touch with the growing Hobbit community, hopefully some bouders and an occational fisherman pointing the way. We very much hope for some planned interaction with the bounders allthough that has not yet been arranged when I write this. We will set up a time when we will come to the Bridge and we will be there on time.

Well met!

Son of Erkenbrand

PS 1. Sharkey is the name Saruman goes by in the Shire after having been banished from Isengard, which has not yet to come, as we all know (allthough it can allready be seen in Galadriel's Mirror in Lothlorien). Hence the name of the event 'Sharkey's men should not be taken literally. The name only reflects that we are moving into the Shire and dealing with Sarumans henchmen.

PS 2. People have gotten this right by now but I ad it for possible newcomers.
To try and get rid of the 'classical lotro looks' we will use [i]round shields[/i]. Those who have other shileds - even 'horsehead decorated' ones - will get replacements as long as there is enough in stock. I also wish for people to [i]drop the most significant high level cloaks [/i] when joining on this type of events. Having Hammers, the Tree of Gondor and what not on the cloak does only painfully remind us (at least me and I guess otheres as well) of the limited line of gear there are in game. Get a new rag on you back, please, or just leave the one you own in your backback. ;)
We also [i]leave the bow/crossbow at home[/i] on mounted assautls. We arent going to hunt for food, nor 'pull' anything.