There is a legend in the lush green valley bordering Mirkwood. A legend of a good king and how he tragically had what others sought for. And his elf wife was killed because of it. He went to war and sadly lost his life.

His daughters it was said were hunted but they couldn't be found. Many claimed they went back to their people. Most knew that they simply wandered from one land to the next. Waiting to grow tall and strong to take back what was theirs but takes importantly to avenge that which was taken from them.

Nearly 40 years later a woman came to our village. She would come to market once a week and bring her king worthy wine and sweet honey and wax candles. She was no different than any other woman. Though her hair was kept short and her eyes had a gleam of age.

That was when the blood shed began. the soldiers that lived in and around our valley where our slain king once ruled were getting ambushed. Supply trains would be stolen. Wealthy lords kidnapped and ransomed. And if ever the culprits were chased after they would vanish like phantoms into the wild.

This woman was always remembered because it was whispered that she was related to these events. Ambushes led to battles. And battles led to all of the valley having two opposing views. Some were against the renegades the ones who had grown rich off the new king. And those that believed that these renegades were the lost daughters of the old king. These were the people that needed a new hope of one day riding themselves of the tyranny of this horrid king.

This woman, simple kind and fierce, had a fate far greater than what any could have guessed. A fate to change a prince. The fate of a queen.