~Linhalaith's The Lord of the Rings Online Picture Diary~
The Lord of the Rings Online is a well-established MMORPG set in Middle-earth, the richly detailed European fantasy world immortalised in J.R.R. Tolkien's literary works. I decided to make an SSLP in it.
What you're about to read is the picture diary of Linhalaith, a kind and courageous Elvish warrior with a camera and a very full scrapbook. I aim to cover everything from the tutorial lands of Thorin's Gate, to the unknown place where I'll probably get bored of The Lord of the Rings Online in a few months.
Chapter 6: Trouble Afoot in Bree-Land, or Possibly Even a Yard
In the wake of the Farmers Faire, Linhalaith had heard some alarming rumours from Bree-land to the east. Bandits were out banditting, moreso than ordinarily they would, and Black Riders had been seen on the roads. Riding, blackly, in cloaks of dark linen and dread. A stabbing, even, at a popular inn, where thankfully just some pillows had died.
It was enough to make a soft-butch She-Elf shiver. Linhalaith excused herself from the last Bywater fishing competition and made her way to Bree...
Bree, not the smaller sort of village
Linhalaith spent an hour shopping for armour in the village. This proved to be a good decision when, half an hour later, she found dozens of bandits in the surrounding fields.
The bandits had been harassing some local farmers, shaking them down for tribute. A gang known as the Blackwolds had teamed up with Southerners, presumably from Swanfleet, who had some unusual tastes in women's armour.
Linhalaith was fortunate enough to find a farmer willing to harass the local bandits. Bree-land was larger than two people might defend, but together, they could at least make one farm safe for the forseeable future.
"Fool that you are, you've brought only pain to the innocent! Now embrace your judgment!" --What Linhalaith wished she'd said to the bandit. She actually said "Shut up! Bum you so much, you big meanie!"
The farmer and his family bade Linhalaith stay for dinner, and she was all too happy to oblige. The food of Men was similar to that of Hobbits, at least in Eriador where the same crops and spices grew; tasty, although notably not any larger.
Of course, it (fish and chips) was more than enough for Linhalaith, and she left with the family's blessing. She made her way south-west to Buckland, a Hobbit village featuring some very impressive hills.
Buckland lay next to the Old Forest, where trees were said to walk, and plenty of wild animals were ready to maim travellers even if the trees weren't up for it. The local woodcutters were most concerned about the giant spiders, and the two blokes who'd wandered in to see whether the giant spiders were real.
Linhalaith found one such bloke, taking shelter in an abandoned house.
And rather than the other such bloke, she found Lebrennil, out for her morning constitutional. Lebrennil was rather cagey about the second Hobbit explorer, and when Linhalaith asked her some pointed questions, Lebrennil turned vicious.
She set upon Linhalaith with a ferocious fury, yet her spindly legs couldn't quite penetrate the Guardian's suit of armour. For Linhalaith, it was as if spears assailed her from every direction, but she fought bravely and turned them all aside. At last she triumphed over Lebrennil, and wishing she had a pair of rubber gloves, pulled a forlorn-looking skeleton from the spider's great stomach.
"What is a spider? A miserable pile of legs!" --Linhalaith, trying to be cool in spite of the pressure she was under
It was a disheartened Linhalaith that made her way back to Bree. She wondered whether, if she'd been there earlier, Lebrennil the Moor-Web might have been dissuaded. A day earlier, even, and she might have caught the spider mid-snack.
But then Linhalaith would not have been able to help that poor farmer, would she? While she fought in the Old Forest, those brigands would have been free to plunder and daub vulgar murals on the farm house. There was only one Linhalaith, enough to protect some people, not all of them.
While she was in Bree, this one Linhalaith was lucky enough to see another open-air concert, courtesy of a fellow Elf with a lute.
The artistic spirit of this fair minstrel buoyed Linhalaith's heart, which was just as well, because moments later a Ranger grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away.
"R-remind me, who is Amdiiiiir--?!" Linhalaith shrieked as the Ranger dragged her.
"Who is Amdir! How badly can you forget these plot details with a picture diary, a digital one no less, to remember them all?!" the Ranger scoffed. "Amdir is... Why, he's Amdir! And he needs us, so render into gear thy arse--"
Linhalaith dug her heels into the earth. No sooner had the Ranger stumbled to a halt than the Guardian's gloved fist was upon his skull, knocking him into the underbrush.
"My arse," Linhalaith said coldly, "is no matter for discussion by the likes of you!"
Eventually, with the Ranger holding a compress to his face and sulking dreadfully, they found Amdir.
And they killed Amdir. It was a mercy to him now.
"I meant nothing by it, you know," the Ranger said quietly. "To render into gear one's arse - or to 'get your arse in gear' - is a common expression among my people, where all it means is 'get ready'."
"I see." Linhalaith sighed. "Perhaps I did react quite badly. But you had been running with me for three hours before you deigned to even speak to me! If you drag a lady around like a rag doll, speak to her like a foolish child, and she punches you in the face, you have no right to complain."
"Phy... physical humour, Linhalaith! I was performing a comedy trope!" the Ranger protested. "Look, perhaps we had different expectations going into this business. That, I will concede. Had I been upfront with you, about dragging you by the arm, would you have minded less?"
"Perhaps. Quite probably." Linhalaith gazed moodily at the dingy furniture and fallen travellers strewn about the cave. "But I doubt I shall be ready for levity ere I sleep tonight."