Someone Like Me

Posted: September 15, 2014 in Uncategorized

Mattias Lehman

It’s 1996.

I am standing before a massive gate, of Dwarven make and covered in intricate runes. I am weary from my travels, unsure of my purpose. I fear the world in which I journey, for I am oh-so-small and the world is oh-so-large. If I cannot pass through this gate where my supposed allies wait, how can I pass through the greater gates ahead of me, like Morannon?

The only clue I have is the door itself; twin trees wrapping their branches around the pillars of stone, a hammer and anvil — no doubt, the sigil of the Nogothrim who dwell within — and a crown which I can only assume speaks to the royalty of the inhabitants. Around the top of the arch is writing: the name of the gates, the builder of the door, and the inscriber of the rune, with a simple riddle, ‘speak friend and…

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