Board Thread:Roleplay Ideas/@comment-25597877-20171016021845

Gondor’s forces are at war, off fighting the Enemy in Mordor. It’s late at night in the city of Pelargir and you’re walking a street or sitting in a bar, lamenting on your discharge. Be it “old age”, “alcoholism”, “too much trauma” whatever the hell they told you to excuse depriving you of your passion. It’s been a long time since you’ve worn the armor. Then you hear it, a muffled yip and the sound of a blade through flesh. You may be rusty but you recognize that sound like your mother’s voice. You head over and look around a corner, then you see them. A band of savages, dunlendings all over. The soldiers are off at the war, the few guards that could be spared for the city are currently hoisted on stakes. You aren’t going to let a bunch of savages take over ‘’your’’ city, and kill ‘’your’’ kinsmen and women. You’re a f*ing swan knight, and they’re going to pay 