CONTEXTE ~

Five centuries had passed, like a veil of rain on the mountains. The fires of Mordor and Isengard had gone silent. The air grew heavy and foul to breathe to any mortal soul within their dark, bottomless pits of endless malice, where the last of the Orcs were left to rot.
Peace had flourished on every lips. Its soft rumor spread beyond mountains, rivers and hills, to reach the very ends of Eriador. The Fellowship of the Ring had fulfilled its task, and was dissolved. The Ring of Power destroyed, the fierce and lidless eye had come crashing down alongside the sharp tower of Barad Dûr. Across the Mounts of Ithilien, the white walls of Minas Tirith were built anew. The golden hall of Edoras were adorned again by the proud banners of the Rohirrims. Forests were replenished, crops scattered again, ale and wine poured. Life blossomed again, as the black clouds of despair left the horizon of Middle Earth, the noble Elves  and Frodo, the Ringbearer, along with them.
As the silver crown of Númenor was set upon Aragorn Elessar’s head, Dwarves went back to their caves and treasures, Hobbits to their beloved Shire.
The Age of Men had come, and Middle Earth was finally at peace.
Five centuries have passed, and still the hearts of Men are heavy with sorrow and grief, mourning their fallen heroes and the departures of their Elven friends. The Strider King is long gone, but still his reign lives, cherished memory of a great ruler and fighter. The Evil caused by the Ring of Power and its wicker Master are yet to be erased from the surface of Middle Earth. Its Shadow never really faded nor disappeared. It silently lingers over peaceful households, over meadows and fields. Though its power is weak, it yearns still for a lesser soul to which to hatch, and fester its malice. A rumor spreads, coming form the East and uncharted territories. Haradhrims and Pirates have united against the leadership of Gondor, whereas Rohan is taken aback by endless waves of wanderers, fleeing the terrors of the great army they have gathered in Khand and Rhûn. The streets of Edoras are filled with filth and powerless mothers, seeking to feed their children.
Rumors. Rumors can be deadlier than swords but nonetheless as real and true. Fear of a new war spreads. Treacherous eyes report having glimpsed fumes rising again from the East.
The Realms of Men, Dwarves and the friendly folks of Middle Earth have no other choice : unite, or fall.