<div align="center">(http://tolkiengateway.net/w/images/thumb/1/13/Darek_Zabrocki_-_Morning.jpg/800px-Darek_Zabrocki_-_Morning.jpg)<br/></div><br/><br/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220302/86db40561bcf497ceecf75fa059dfdb9.png)</div><div style="text-align: right;"><em>A tall and evil shape, mounted upon a black horse… <br/>The rider was robed all in black, and black was his lofty helm; yet this was no Ringwraith but a living man ... <br/>his name is remembered in no tale, for he himself had forgotten it.</em></div><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRjNco2Y21b_pUj8Z7Yy1L1CDGhdqznDz-Trg&amp;usqp=CAU)</div><div class="floatright">(https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/peter-jacksons-the-hobbit/images/6/69/Squint_in_Prancing_Pony.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/peter-jacksons-the-hobbit/images/8/86/Dale-Folk20.png)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Barliman Butterbur, Nob, Bob, Squint and Farulf, Dale-folk Merchant. <br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong> Bree-landers<br/><strong>Time:</strong> TA 3014, winter<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Bree, the Prancing Pony<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Any</div><br/><em>Fifty years ago, outside the city of Umbar, in South Gondor, the white pillar was destroyed. This monument built by the Kings of Gondor, celebrated the arrival of the King of Númenor, during the second Age of Middle Earth to capture the dark Lord, Sauron. At this period of time, the island of Númenor was at its height. The tall pillar, made of white marble was surmounted by a crystal globe, able to capture the rays of the sun and the moon, and could be seen from the coasts of Gondor to the north.<br/><br/>Now the power of the High Men is fading away, like the power of the Elves.<br/> <br/>Rumors are flying from the South and from the East, like gusts of wind, lingering over the shape of everything-that-lives. Beasts, Men, Elves and the Trees. <br/>The Man who brought down the White Pillar is back. Indeed, this act of destruction resulted from the words of a Man, who managed to unite legions of Corsairs, Haradrim and even Easterlings. His return was marked by red painting and words of Black Speech on the ruins of the White Pillow.</em><br/><br/><br/><div align="center">--------------------<br/></div><strong>"Now, <em>he</em> travels North." </strong>Barliman said with a trembling voice.<br/><strong>"I have my contacts in the South" the owner of the Prancing Pony said, "and many travelers are fleeing the East to reach the Coast to the West. Several men confirmed this..."</strong><br/><br/>Barliman's voice became suddenly hoarse, it felt as if it was this man's way to reveal the information he gathered for the past weeks. A warning to the people taking a night's rest in his renowned-inn.<br/><strong>"<em>His</em> face is hidden by a black helm, and volutes of darkness surround his frame. <em>He</em> is accompanied by legions of Men from the East and the South. <em>He</em> is a ... Dunadan...Like all of them, <em>he</em>’s dangerous, <em>he</em>’s an ally of the night and of the thieves."<br/></strong><br/><br/>Barliman suddenly slammed the palm of his hands on the wooden table of the customers he was talking with, and then slowly, he approached his face from the sitting travelers.<br/><br/><strong>"If <em>he</em> shows you his face, behind his dark Helm, a forgotten terror will sink in your soul, and will force you to become one of his followers.<br/><em>He</em> is not alone. <em>He</em> travels with another one like him. Hiding within the …"</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Oh! shut up with this story. It’s been days you’re mentioning this. The Terror and the Black Speech. It’s nonsense. I traveled from the ruins of Dale to the South, to Gondor. Now, I am here in Bree and for the last two days I only hear your tale... well I tell you, Bree-folks, there is no army traveling North."</strong>Farulf said.<br/><br/>The latter was without a doubt originating from another region of Middle-Earth. From his words, and to someone who has been traveling around the Lone Mountain, the Iron Hills or more globally Rhovanion, Farulf looked like a Dale-folk, a merchant. He was visibly both tired, and his attention was diminished by the beer.<br/><br/><strong>"And where this Terror and his soldiers are going anyway? North? North is a vast land…"</strong>he added, leveling his empty glass upwards, as a sign he wanted something more to drink.<br/><br/>Squint emptied his pint, and moved the back of his hand around his mouth. The conversation was way too much audible, and the price he was paid to stop these rumors from traveling in the lost Kingdoms, led his actions. The price was high, but it was also easy to know whether Squint was doing his job or not.<br/>Squint stood up and approached from Farulf. His eyes were scanning the people within the Inn, or the eventual newcomers.<br/>