Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-25344655-20151122010838/@comment-25344655-20151122082702

Glosur was hammering away on an anvil in a small rohirric town not far from Edoras, his son by him. He still wears his armor no matter what. The sky that night was red if anyone looked to the mountains, and an evil was on them.

"Damn it all."

He tossed the newly finished blade into the arms of a Rohirric soldier, before walking towards another town.