Society of the White Rose

[Morwen]

The lugubrious mountains of Mordor steadily disappeared as the small company ventured to other lands. Silence pervaded the evening air as grass muted the passing of horses and men. The grass was fresh and moistened with dew. Emerald waves of it decorated the crags and crevices of the countryside.
Morwen opened her weary eyes and gazed upon the emerald oasis. She slowly undid the tight black gloves that had shielded her fair skin from the blazing sun. Rubing together her knotted hands, she glanced at the men and women in her train. A half smile lit her face. She turned then, and took something from within her dark cloak. She had kept it secretly, maybe even as a reminder she said to herself. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her white hand. There upon her palm rested a blade of grass.
"M'lady! Are we soon come to that place which you seek?"queried a lady of Rohan.
"No, we have far to travel, Emeldir. We must completely free ourselves from the worries of the West". She glanced at the green thing in her hand. "I can still feel its grasp", she whispered.

Dark clouds mounted on the horizon and she replaced her emerald reminder. She sighed and forced her aching fingers back into their black prison.
"Soon, very soon I shall see my heart's desire. So very soon".

[Morwen]

Traveling thus for many leagues, they at last came upon an area suitable for their purpose. They began to post camp in a small valley which harbored a bubbling spring, and which supported soaring red cliffs that provided stunning views of the land surrounding it.
Morwen dismounted and summoned a council of her most trustworthy men. Soon after they rode from the valley with directions to contact the nations they would soon be joining. She remained behind to help with her people. They must begin construction on a more permanent residence before the weather decided it was bored of pleasant days. She had been lucky in that aspect. It was the only force that had not given her grief. Perhaps it would always be the only...
Now it is at hand , Morwen thought. She smiled and proceeded to mount a rising cliff.

[Morwen]

The blue ribbon of the Eastern River slinks through Fekazfa, the Black Wood, and meanders south towards Vhykbrod. Directly in the center of these landmarks and the golden hills lies the valley of the spring.
From this oasis riders with empty eyes rode forth with the intention of bringing the residents of the east into cooperation with their master. Her influence had now swarmed the cities of Fumenstilka, Vhykbrod, and Sottacapec; and infested the Black Wood. Now her hand stretched towards the far cities, and she was coming.

[Morwen]

The currents had changed.

Morwen raised her head from the military exercise that had captivated her attention for hours. Now she swept the sweat from her brow and entered her personal tent, where she clothed herself in fresh garments; traveling garments.
She mounted Creshibon and started out with a brisk pace. Her destination: the domain of her brother.