Tearose receives word from the Rangers of the North that the Clan camps in Angmar need help desperately. Evil creatures are numerous and lives are threatened. Angmar smells evil. The place is always dark and ominous.

Tearose is filled with dread immediately upon her arrival. “I’ll just stay long enough to see them through the worst of it”, she thinks to herself. Little does she know that she would later be attacked by worms and injured seriously.

Clan women treated her wounds while she was unconscious for hours in one of their tents. But as you know, hobbits are resilient so Tearose, though bruised and battered, was far from beaten. In a matter of days she was already hobbling about and helping with the fixing of meals.

She had managed to salvage several flagons of red wine from her packs, though some had been damaged during her battle with the worms, causing quite a mess of things. She cleaned up everything and brought out the wine to share with the Clan people. “These people are so grim” she thought sadly. “They need some good hobbit cheer, to be sure.”

And later that evening, eyes glazing from too much wine, the Clan people gathered and told tales of old. And in the distance was heard the howling of hungry wargs. Though seemingly mellowed from the wine, these people were watchful and ready for anything. And Tearose felt safe for awhile.

Pareth spent many days in the Trollshaws looking for the missing Black Rider and battling trolls, and all manner of evil surrounding the outskirts of Rivendell. Elrond’s words trouble Pareth. She knows what battles lie ahead and she is already battle-weary.

Pareth has many friends in a kinship who have been away for weeks in Moria. She is worried. So she returns to Bree to find out any news that always seems to reach the patrons of The Prancing Pony.
“Aye, and I could use the rest, and perhaps visit with some friends outside of Bree and in the Shire,” thought Pareth.

Upon arriving in Bree, she decided to seek out Barliman Butterbur and found him soon enough, bustling about busily, though the place was quieter then in the past.

It was though people sensed impending trouble so they were quiet yet very alert. Everywhere she looked, Pareth saw men and women in battle gear, quiet grim soldiers in an endless battle who have come to Bree for some distraction and rest.

Barliman always makes sure the patrons have their fill of food and ale a-plenty. Good old Barliman was seemingly as jovial as ever, but even he had a look of fear in his eyes.

And no wonder. The Black Riders attacking the inn like they did was fearsome enough, but all manner of questionable characters have begun to terrorize the outskirts of Bree.

Pareth knows she will not be resting for very long. She has many tasks to complete in the days ahead.

Will she be ready? Yes, of course, and she knows she will meet many allies who will help her along the way.

Pareth orders a flagon of red wine and takes a seat near the fireplace. A minstrel plays her harp softly. Pareth gazes into the fire and slowly begins to relax. It is peaceful for awhile.

Many months have gone by, and Tearose returns to the Shire to rest and heal. She is battle-weary and saddened by the loss of many of her comrades.

Cadreth of Lindon fell to her death at Weathertop in the Lonelands.

Another Elven princess, Lavendiel of Lorien, was overtaken by Orcs who have terrorized the Northern Breefields.

The loss of those fair elven warriors was more than Tearose could bear. She thought Elves were immortal, and that they surely would out-live her. But instead, Tearose lives on and the horror and the evil in places like Angmar, where terror dwells in every corner, keeps her awake at night.

She has begun to believe the whispers of her Shire neighbours, that she is crazy. What can one hobbit possibly accomplish by trying to fight the evil that never seems to dwindle in numbers? Instead, more evil minions are dispatched from Angmar and from the East.

Soon they will reach the Shire. Peaceful hobbits will be stunned to discover that they are no longer safe in their warm hobbit-holes. How will they all survive if they are attacked? Hobbits know nothing of war.

In Rivendell, Tearose met the nine members of the Fellowship. She learned that they were on a most important mission. It was whispered that one of them, Aragorn, was in fact the new King. Tearose was hopeful for a while when she saw the quiet strength in Aragorn. But after seeing the sheer numbers of orcs and other evil men invading the north, she now has her doubts. Aragorn is travelling east with the Fellowship. There are not enough Rangers to defend the North Downs. There are not enough Wardens to rid Annuminas of evil Angmarins who have invaded the ancient city. Who will come to their aid?

What is to become of Middle Earth? Tearose longs for simpler happier times. Never before has a hobbit felt such despair.

“Perhaps I’ll feel better after I’ve had a good hobbit meal”, she thought. “Aye, perhaps, indeed.”