Lord Of The Rings Graphic Novels & Stories

Yet they both understood it. In the end, Luca turned away. “Fine,” he said hoarsely. “But if my father goes too far… I will not just watch from the sides.” ****** Arlen sensed it before he saw him. The aura of a beast-man with the touch of malice. When he turned, Theoden stood alone across the ruined ground, his countenance empty yet relaxed. Arlen glanced below. In his hand gleamed a blade oozing of dark energy. Only Theoden could mask such a weapon of destruction and pass it off as something pure and holy to the naked eye.

And there, ahead, where the valley narrowed into the mouth of the pass itself, was a scene of tense stalemate. On one side of a rushing, glacial river, a makeshift camp flew the banners of several eastern lowland lords—a silver gryphon, a green serpent, a black tower. Perhaps two hundred men-at-arms were arrayed in disciplined ranks, their pikes gleaming dully in the overcast light. At their head, on a sleek chestnut horse, was a man in polished half-plate: Lord Gryffen, his face handsome and cruel under a trimmed beard.