Friday, December 26, 2025
Sunday, December 14, 2025
Saturday, December 13, 2025
The Lone-Lands stretch across the wide, desolate expanse between the Bree-land borders and the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Once the heart of the kingdom of Rhudaur, the territory is now a somber graveyard of fallen civilizations, characterized by rolling brown hills, stunted shrubbery, and a prevailing sense of silence. Travellers moving eastward along the Great East Road find themselves beneath a vast, heavy sky, where the wind whispers through the tall, yellowed grasses of the wilderness.
At the center of this lonely vista stands the monumental height of Weathertop, the southernmost peak of the Weather Hills. Known anciently as Amon Sûl, its summit is crowned by the shattered remains of a once-mighty watchtower, its stones blackened by old fires and weathered by centuries of neglect. Though it once held a palantír and guarded the northern realms, it now serves only as a landmark for wanderers and a grim reminder of the wars that fractured the Dúnedain.
To the south of the road lie the Midgewater Marshes, a treacherous expanse of reeds and stagnant pools. The air here is thick with the drone of midges and the croaking of frogs, creating a damp, suffocating atmosphere that discourages all but the most desperate of travellers. These bogs act as a natural barrier, isolating the road from the deep wilderness and hiding the secrets of the shifting mud and ancient, sunken ruins that lie beneath the surface.The ruins scattered throughout the region tell a story of slow decay and forgotten history. Crumbling stone walls and broken arches peek through the overgrowth on nearly every ridge, marking the sites of former forts and homesteads. These skeletal remains are often shunned by the common folk of Bree, as they are rumored to be haunted by the lingering shadows of the past, making the region feel like a land that has been purposefully abandoned by the living.
Life in the Lone-Lands is sparse and hardy, consisting mostly of wary rangers and occasional bands of stone-trolls that descend from the Coldfells when the clouds hang low. There are few havens to be found; the Forsaken Inn stands as the last vestige of civilization for those heading east, offering cold comfort and grim company. Beyond its walls, the land belongs to the wild, where the only law is the endurance of the traveller and the sharp eyes of those who watch from the shadows.
Despite the desolation, a rugged beauty persists in the shifting colors of the moorland at twilight. When the sun dips below the horizon, the ruins of the North-kingdom are bathed in a fleeting, golden light that briefly masks the scars of war. It is a place of profound melancholy, a transitional space where the echoes of ancient kings still resonate in the wind, holding its breath before the road finally climbs toward the hidden refuge of the Hidden Valley.
Notable Locations
• Weathertop
• Weather Hills
• Rhudaur Ruins
• Last Bridge
• Greenway
• Forsaken Inn
• Eglain Settlements
Friday, December 12, 2025
The Trollshaws rise out of the earth like a jagged fortress of limestone and iron-gray rock, a vertical wilderness that defies the easy travel of the Bree-land. Here, the rolling hills of the West are shattered into a labyrinth of deep, shadowed ravines and sheer-sided ridges. The terrain is a vertical puzzle of ascending terraces and sudden drops, where the ground beneath a traveler’s boots is more likely to be treacherous shale or slick moss than solid earth. In the year 3011, this land feels like a realm that has completely forgotten the rule of Men, returning to a primordial state of jagged edges and ancient, brooding silence.
The flora of the Shaws is as defensive as the rock itself. Ancient beeches and gnarled oaks cling to the cliff-faces with root-systems like clutching hands, their limbs twisted into grotesque shapes by the fierce mountain winds. This is a "tight" forest—a canopy of interlocking branches so dense that even at high noon, the valley floors remain trapped in a perpetual, emerald twilight. Below, the forest floor is a graveyard of fallen timber and gargantuan boulders, many of which are draped in "Old Man’s Beard" lichen, hanging from the branches like the tattered funeral shrouds of a forgotten people.
Water in the Trollshaws is never silent; it is a landscape of sound. Hidden streams plunge over precipices in thin, white ribbons, their roar echoing through the canyons until the very air seems to vibrate. These waters are ice-cold, fed by the distant peaks of the Misty Mountains, and they carve deep, black pools into the stone that seem bottomless.
The mist here is different from the Chetwood’s—it is a roiling, mountain-born fog that descends from the heights without warning, swallowing the sun and turning a narrow mountain path into a blind leap into the unknown.The true masters of this region have left their mark everywhere, turning the landscape into a gallery of the macabre. Massive caves, their entrances stained with the soot of immense fires and the grease of a thousand kills, yawn open in the sides of the ridges. Around these "Troll-holes," the earth is trampled flat and littered with the bleached bones of horses, elk, and Men. Great "standing stones" are often found in clearings, but a closer look reveals they are not monuments of the Dúnedain, but the petrified remains of Trolls caught by the sun—grotesque, moss-covered statues frozen in mid-roar or eternal agony.
Nature itself seems to have soured under the Shadow in the North. The brambles are longer and sharper here, capable of shredding leather and skin, and the insects are silent, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic drone of carrion flies. There is a sense of being constantly watched from above; the ridges are lined with jagged outcroppings that resemble hunched watchers, and every falling pebble or snapping twig echoes with a sharp, unnatural clarity. It is a land of echoes and shadows, where the wind whistling through the limestone cracks sounds like a chorus of low, mocking whispers.
As the light of day fades, the Trollshaws become a place of primal terror. The transition from dusk to night is sudden and absolute, as the high ridges steal the last of the sun long before it sets. It is then that the "Stone-folk" awaken, their deep, guttural voices booming across the ravines like the grinding of tectonic plates. The smell of the woods changes, overtaken by the stench of wet fur and rank, unwashed hide. To be caught in the Shaws after dark is to enter a world where Man is no longer the hunter, but merely a small, fragile piece of "Bree-weight" for the masters of the stone.
Thursday, December 11, 2025
The Eglain, known in the Common Tongue as the Forsaken, represent a resilient but dwindling society of "ruin-wanderers" who have made the desolate expanses of the Lone-lands their home. Descended from ancient Eriadorian people who long ago shunned the "civilized" towns of Bree and the fallen cities of Arnor, they live as a solitary and wary culture of scavengers and hunters . Rather than building new towns, they establish temporary "ruin-holds" within the crumbling shells of Arnorian fortresses, where they sift through the dust of the past for relics and trinkets to trade for essential supplies. In the current era, the Eglain have been driven from many of their former dwellings by the encroachment of orcs and dark forces from the north. Their primary and most formidable settlement is Ost Guruth, a massive Rhudaurian ruin that serves as their cultural heart and a rare beacon of safety in the wilderness. Here, under the quiet protection of figures like Radagast the Brown, they maintain a meager existence, guarding their independence with a fierce silence and viewing all outsiders with deep suspicion until their trust is hard-won through acts of service.
Wednesday, December 10, 2025
Located exactly a day’s journey east of Bree, the Forsaken Inn stands as a hollow shell of its former self, marking the final boundary where the last traces of civilization dissolve into the true wilderness. Once a vital refuge for travelers along the Great East Road, the structure is now characterized by its decaying stone walls and a severely neglected roof that offers little protection against the biting winds of the moors. Its name serves as a literal testament to its state; it has been deserted for decades, a victim of the growing desolation and the creeping shadows that have reclaimed the lands between Bree and the Midgewater Marshes.
Though its hearths have long since gone cold and its taproom is silent, the inn remains a significant landmark for the few who still walk the road, such as the Dúnedain Rangers who occasionally use its ruins for shelter or to leave hidden messages. The interior is a labyrinth of rot and shadows, where the wind whistles through empty windows and the spirits of the past seem to linger in the stillness. While legends of its active days persist among the elders of Bree, the modern reality is one of absolute isolation; beyond its broken threshold, the road has not been officially measured in miles for generations, leaving the inn to rot as a grim monument to a safer, forgotten era.
Tuesday, December 9, 2025
The Greenway stretches as a long, grass-choked artery running from north to south, intersecting the Great East Road at the crossroads near Bree. Originally known as the North-South Road, it once served as the primary trade route connecting the twin kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, facilitating the movement of armies, messengers, and merchants across the vastness of Eriador. In the present day, however, the name reflects its current state of neglect; the ancient stone paving has largely disappeared beneath a thick carpet of turf and wildflowers, and the once-bustling thoroughfare has narrowed into a lonely track frequented more by wild animals than by men.
As the road wanders through the empty lands south of Bree, it passes through a landscape dominated by silence and the crumbling remains of a forgotten civilization. Without the protection of the old kings, the route has become increasingly perilous, as the shadows of the wild have reclaimed the surrounding hills and thickets. While the Dúnedain still patrol portions of the path to keep it clear of the most malevolent threats, most travelers avoid the Greenway, fearing the bandits and strange creatures that are rumored to lair within the ruins that line its path.
Monday, December 8, 2025
The Southern Barrow-downs are a specific section of a larger, eerie, rolling hill country located in a fictional realm, characterized by open grass- and turf-covered landscapes devoid of trees. The defining features of the area are the numerous ancient burial mounds that cap the hills. This region was once home to an ancient kingdom whose people interred their leaders in elaborate tombs for centuries. Despite the potential for discovering ancient artifacts within these graves, the area is widely feared and avoided by local inhabitants due to its pervasive, foreboding atmosphere and reputation for being heavily haunted.
The foreboding nature of the Southern Barrow-downs stems from the malevolent, incorporeal entities that infest the ancient burial sites. Following a historical cataclysm that wiped out the region's original populace, powerful dark forces infused the deserted mounds with these evil spirits, ensuring the land could never be safely resettled. These spectral threats exhibit icy, chilling effects on the living, capable of ensnaring intruders with powerful enchantments and dragging them into the dark chambers of the tombs. A notable incident in the lore involves a group of travelers who were captured by one of these entities in the southern region before being miraculously rescued by a mysterious, nature-bound figure. The area in various adaptations is known for presenting significant challenges to adventurers.
Sunday, December 7, 2025
The southern portion of the Chetwood forest , located east and south of the town of Bree, served primarily as a historical refuge for the local inhabitants. In times when the surrounding lands were overrun by Orcs and other hostile forces, the people of the four Bree-land villages would flee into the southern reaches of the wood, where they had prepared hidden cabins and supply caches. While the Chetwood appeared wholesome and full of light near its edges, the deeper, older inner regions were seldom explored by the villagers, who generally only ventured in far enough to gather firewood and building materials.
In the Third Age, few bothered with the ancient hiding spots, though some older, more cautious residents still secreted away portions of their harvest, a practice reminiscent of squirrels. The southern edge of the wider Chetwood area was bordered by the East Road, just south of the village of Staddle and southwest of the extensive Midgewater Marshes. In some modern adaptations, the area is noted for being a haunt for bandits, such as the Blackwold gang, in the early War of the Ring.
Saturday, December 6, 2025
The Northern Barrow-downs is a prominent, ominous upland region located immediately east of the Chetwood and the village of Bree, separated from the latter by the ancient, overgrown North-South Road. This northern stretch of the Downs is a vast, undulating expanse defined by rolling hills, shallow valleys, and numerous large, grassy mounds that dot the landscape. These mounds are ancient burial sites, barrows left by the Men of the First Age and the Númenóreans of the North Kingdom of Arnor . The entire region is covered in a lush, green sward, giving it an outwardly peaceful, if solemn, appearance .
Despite its seemingly innocuous appearance, the North Barrow-downs is steeped in malice and peril. It is a place shunned by the locals of Bree and the Shire due to its notorious reputation. The barrows are haunted by malevolent spirits, known as Barrow-wights, ethereal servants of the Witch-king of Angmar that were sent to the area centuries ago to prevent the re-establishment of the Dúnedain kingdom . These wights guard vast amounts of ancient treasure but also cast a shadow of fear over the land, often trapping unsuspecting travelers in fog and leading them to their doom within the tombs, as nearly happened to Frodo Baggins and his companions .
Thursday, December 4, 2025
Archet Dale is a secluded and rustic area in the greater region of Bree-land, nestled on the very fringes of the large, untamed Chetwood forest. The area is home to the small, primarily human village of Archet, a quiet farming community that maintains little use for the bustling life of larger settlements like nearby Bree-town. The name "Archet" itself, derived from an Old English term meaning "Forest's Edge," perfectly encapsulates its isolated, wooded location.
The geography of Archet Dale is characterized by gently rolling hills and fertile, cultivated fields that provide sustenance for the local populace. The landscape is a mix of open farmland and dense forest, giving the region a peaceful, pastoral feel that, combined with its remoteness, often attracts simple folk and a few resident Hobbits. A soft, canyon-style wash runs through the lower, southern part of the dale, where rainwater collects and moves through the terrain. The only official road connection to the rest of Bree-land is a narrow passage leading southwards toward the village of Combe.
Historically, Archet was founded after the fall of the ancient kingdom of Arnor, a frontier settlement chartered to clean out rogue goblins and secure the area after the Great Northern War. Its original settlement consisted of about thirty-five stone houses, built among the clearings and along the slopes of a small, local hill. The villagers were known for producing a unique, coveted cheese made from the milk of goats that fed on a specific wildflower, the Arinyalasse, which grew exclusively in the dale's immediate surroundings.In contemporary times, the isolated nature of Archet Dale and its lack of strong authority have drawn the attention of less desirable elements. A formidable band of brigands known as the Blackwolds has established a camp in some old ruins on the eastern outskirts of the dale, plotting misdeeds beyond simple robbery. This has made the once-serene area a place of conflict, transforming it from a peaceful farming community into a dangerous frontier.
The village of Archet has suffered significantly from these incursions. During recent conflicts, the Blackwold brigands launched a devastating assault, resulting in the burning and sacking of many homes and the scattering of the townsfolk. The former bustling town is now in ruins, with many residents having lost their lives. Retired soldier Captain Brackenbrook initially tried to organize a defense, a command later passed to his son, Jon Brackenbrook, who now oversees the somber effort to rebuild and protect what remains of the settlement.
The wilderness surrounding the village also presents natural dangers. The fringes of the Chetwood are not entirely safe, as the area is infested with various creatures, including a monstrous brood of spiders that have overrun nearby locations like Sprigley's Farm and established a lair that stretches to a cave entrance near the Old East Path. This constant threat from both natural and criminal elements ensures that Archet Dale, despite its rustic charm, remains a perilous part of Bree-land's wilder edges.
Tuesday, December 2, 2025
The Far Chetwood is a large, untamed expanse located in the remote northeastern corner of Bree-land, distinct from the more settled southern and northern Chetwood areas closer to the villages. It lies north of the ridges that define Archet Dale and south of the cold waters of the lake Nen Harn, bordering the wilder lands of the North Downs. This deep woodland is a place of serene, if somewhat monotonous, natural beauty, characterized by vast quantities of maple trees and a general lack of significant landmarks, offering little to the passing explorer beyond a humble pond and a sense of isolation. It is a large, wild space that feels genuinely remote and forgotten, a peaceful spot for fishing or quiet exploration, far from the main roads and populated centers of Bree-town and the Shire.
However, the Far Chetwood's isolation makes it a haven for various unsavory elements and natural threats that do not frequent the safer, more "tame" parts of the forest. While major strongholds are absent, the area has been known to host formidable bands of the Blackwold brigands, who use the seclusion to establish camps and plot raids on nearby settlements. Furthermore, the natural wildlife here is less docile; explorers may encounter a monstrous brood of spiders, hostile wargs, and even a remote wood troll lurking in the deeper woods, making travel through the Far Chetwood a dangerous endeavor. The wilderness here is truly untamed, a stark contrast to the managed farmlands just to the west.



