Campaign Prologue

Over the past 6 months or so, messengers from Minas Tirith have fanned out over the lands of the north contacting the free people where ever they may be. Diplomats and messengers have sought out dwarves in their hill and mountain strongholds, elves in their mystical forest enclaves and awe inspiring cities, men in every city, town, and village that is known and could be reached, even the hobbits of the Shire and their other locations in the north and Gondor.

These men (and women) often escorted by several soldiers in armor with silver on black livery featuring symbols of Gondor, have made arrangements to set up bounty boards outside inns and taverns, in village squares, or at the homes of local elders, chieftains and the like.

Even for those of you who live on a distant farm or woodland cabin, surely you travel occasionally to the nearest village tavern or gathering hall to enjoy an evening in of food and drink, trading tales and catching up on family matters. Or you meet monthly at the home of the local elder to discuss the upcoming planting, trade furs and crafted wares while catching up on recent news. Eventually you have seen bounty boards and commented on the usefulness or uselessness of such an expenditure of perfectly good wood.

It is on these new bounty boards that both local and distant bounties, charters, wanted or missing posts are placed. Of recent note is a now fading bounty by the king of Gondor offering 20 gold pieces per troll head. You recall the commotion when this was first posted some months ago.

The incredulous reactions: Who could kill a troll? Who would want to try?

The reactions of awe: A 20 gold reward! A 20 GOLD REWARD?! More gold then most common folk would earn in a year, in some cases, several years.


But it is the most recent visit by these tall men and women of Gondor that has caught everyone’s attention. Whether you are from a city, town, village or farm, you have either seen for yourself or heard directly from a fellow local who was present when the following occurred.

Riding into town under the last bit of dusky light, a tall black haired, mustached man, dressed in a scholarly manner of brightly colored, layered clothes covered by an outer riding cloak and escorted by 4 dour, dusty chain mailed soldiers is seen. They ride first to the elder’s home then on to taverns and inns, entering and staying for several minutes before exiting and moving on to the next appropriate venue. Before they ride off they post a long parchment with extensive writing and then they leave. People stream out of the taverns towards the bounty board, murmuring and talking excitedly. Expressions of curiosity and doubt follow; shock and awe.

What you saw, or what you were told; this man of Gondor entered the Inn, stepped up onto a table calling for attention. He unrolled a scroll and began to read clearly and firmly; Proclamation

Campaign Prologue

Service to Gondor Presidion22