It is the year 3017 in the Third Age of Middle-Earth. The Enemy has declared himself. These are tales from the Rangers of the North. Rangers of the North Comments.

You bastard son of a goat! Followed by the crack of the whip. The chains dig deep into manacled wrists as the heavy oar slowly turns. A sudden wave sprays surf in the face of the slaves rowing, and the hull can be felt vibrating erratically below. A sure sign of being too near the shore. Arrows fly overhead, and the sound of a slave being hit cuts through the wind, sleet and rain. He screams out in agony but is quickly silenced. Quickly, take the map! .

Beyond the Pillars of Kings. Blessed with rich and fertile lands and an abundance of life, the Vale of Anduin is a forbidding and dangerous place. Most Men shun it, for here walk bear-shirts and weird Elves, and in the Mírkwood tales are whispered of dark sorcery and Orcs. There are those who make their homes here, however, Woodmen from Rhovanion, settlers from Gondor or Rohan, travellers and vagabonds. Whatever their exploits remain to be seen.