"Darrian Buck, what are you getting yourself into?" you think as you look around the council at all the famous and near famous faces. Reaching behind your shoulder you feel the reassuring weight of your mandolin strapped to your back. "A muscian and a lover is what you are" as you remember the few lovely maids that you entertained at winter solstice celebration. The council drones on as you are lost to your imaginations.
"And the second, great grand nephew to Elrond himself" you can hear your father reminding you, just as he had a hundred times before. Still my skill at shooting tourney targets isn't the same as shooting at live targets. . . .specially ones that shoot back. No matter though, I am here and a defender of the family name if nothing else.
"AND I need two groups of defenders" you hear Elrond bellow. "One to clean out the mines of Morier", he pauses as you are jolted out of your reverie.
You hope against hope that the next option is a bit less terrifying. Elves are not fond of being trapped under tons of rock and dirt.
"The other will travel to the Southern end of the Misty Mountains and scout the land of Isengard."
Gods be good, what kind of a choice is this? Either burried under tons of rubble with thousands of orcs, or assailing the birth place of the wicked orc-hybrids, and the wizard Saruman.
The members of the council begin to seperate to 2 different sides of the room. You decide to:
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