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Agents of the White Council

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Eleanor of Dol Amroth sat uneasily on her saddle, watching as the forest canopy passed above her. The little light that filtered through the thick screen of leaves and branches above her was green-tinted, bathing the forest floor in an otherworldly glow. The shadows between the trees could hide anything, and she felt the back of her neck prickle, as if myriad eyes watched, unseen, from the densely woven trees. Her honor guard of mounted soldiers guided their horses closer around her, unconsciously shying away from the darkness off of the path.

It had been three days since the Orc attack that had slaughtered more than a score of the men of Dale and Elves of the Wood, coming upon them unawares in the midst of their revelry. Silently, she cursed herself for letting herself get caught up in all of this, before she chided herself for the thought. After all, was she not in the service of Mithrandir? In the past four years, she had struck blows against the Shadow in ways she had never dreamed possible. She had come to Dale on his errand, and there was only one path before her. She resolved, again, to follow it through to its end - whatever that end might be.

She turned to her guide, the Dalewoman Lanwyn, who rode nearby. "How long is the road to the Elven-king's halls?"

The young woman peered at the road, her falcon perched patiently on her shoulder. "Not long now. If we make such haste as we can in these woods, we might make it before nightfall." She shivered. "I should not like to spend another night in these cursed woods. Not after..." She trailed off, into silence. Beside her, the Dwarf - Thalin, he had called himself - muttered something to himself in his own tongue.

Reaching out, she touched Lanwyn's shoulder. The girl started, apparently lost in some dark reverie. "Sorry, milady. What do you require?"

"Your friend, the Dwarf. What does he say?"

The Dalewoman looked at her stocky companion, still muttering to himself, as if nobody could hear him. After a moment, she turned back, a grim expression on her face. "He prays, Lady. Prayers that all of us will leave this wood alive." Silence settled in again around the little group, as oppressive in its own way as the forest itself.

This is an announcement of a new LOTR LCG blog, The White Tower! In it, I will be posting a narrative campaign - using similar rules to the Saga Campaign - following a set of heroes through each cycle of our excellent game.

So far, I've built the decks that will tackle Passage Through Mirkwood and Journey Along the Anduin (see the Fellowship here). I'll be posting narrative write-ups of each playthrough (along with recordings of the OCTGN plays, if I can get the recording software working on my computer) as we go through every quest from the Core Set, deluxe boxes, and adventure packs.

If this sounds like something that interests you, come on over and check it out!

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Normally, I only post on the forum when I've got a new narrative post up. But today I started a new series, Experimental Deckbuilding, in which I'm going to try out deckbuilding ideas that sound interesting, most likely using forgotten or underrated cards to see if I can make something work. The first post is up now: Forth Eorlingas!

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