Aragorn nodded. "I am. I've been tracking a darkness that threatens these lands. Tell me, Thorne, what's been happening here?"
As they ventured deeper into the woods, the shadows seemed to grow longer and darker, as if they were alive. Aragorn drew his sword, Anduril, its blade shining with a light that seemed almost otherworldly. Aragorn nodded
Aragorn, a Dunedain Ranger, walked into the village, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced caution. He had been tracking a dark presence in these lands, one that seemed to be growing in power by the day. The villagers, wary of outsiders, eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and hope. Tell me, Thorne, what's been happening here
Intrigued, Aragorn decided to investigate further. He gathered a small group of trusted villagers and set out towards the forest, their hearts heavy with foreboding. He had been tracking a dark presence in
Aragorn's interest piqued. "Rings? What do you mean?"
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the lands of Rhûn, a sense of unease settled over the small village of Gorvoth. It was a feeling that had grown all too familiar in recent weeks, ever since rumors began to spread of strange occurrences in the nearby forest.