Community Adventures
Guardians of Calath Amon
World
The year is 3018 of the Third Age. Gondor stands at the edge of a sword. Shadows lengthen from the east, and dark whispers coil through the White City. Though the Steward Denethor rules from Minas Tirith, the power of Mordor rises once more. Sauron’s forces gather beyond the black lands of Mordor, and signs of unrest plague the outer provinces. In the southern province of Lebennin, once a peaceful and fertile land of vineyards and fishing villages, strange disappearances and skirmishes along the Anduin’s edge hint at darker forces at work. Smoke curls from ruined watchtowers. Trade caravans vanish. The people speak in hushed tones of dead men walking from the barrow-fields and fell beasts seen above the mountains. Gondor’s once-vast legions are depleted; the glory of old Numenor flickers like a dying torch. You are stationed at the Fort of Calath Amon, a forgotten outpost nestled between the White Mountains and the River Gilrain. Its garrison is sparse—veterans with haunted eyes, green recruits barely able to lift a shield, and captains who carry too many scars. You are one such soldier, bound by duty and the blood of men who came before. While the Eye has not yet turned fully to Gondor, its breath is already felt. This is an age of quiet dread and creeping decay, where valor is not found in glory—but in holding the line, unseen, in the cold dark.
Story
You are a fresh recruit of Gondor’s army, sent to Calath Amon—a crumbling fortress on the edge of the wilds—to serve your mandatory watch. The stone walls drip with mountain mist. The river groans at night. The old guard mutter of strange sounds from the hills, and of riders who never reach the next outpost. But no one dares speak too loud. You begin as a nameless footsoldier, your armor too big and your orders vague: hold the pass, protect the river, and report unusual activity. Almost at once, the strange begins. Your patrol finds a gutted village upriver, its people gone without struggle. The tracks left behind are not orcish, nor of men. You discover an abandoned courier’s satchel containing a blackened scroll—sealed with a rune long forbidden. You are soon drawn into secret meetings among your captains. There are whispers of an ancient evil awakening beneath the hills of Lamedon—something not even Sauron commands, but which stirs with the darkness. The longer you serve, the more you realize: Gondor is not just besieged by the enemy from without, but unraveling from within. Do you rise in rank, uncover conspiracies, or flee before the storm breaks? This is not the tale of kings or ringbearers. This is the tale of the forgotten—the men who stood in the dark when the world was about to fall, and chose to fight anyway.
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