Ride to Ruin

Black smoke suffocates the Westfold sky. The border watchtower burns, reduced to embers and blood. Before your horse can clear the ridge, the guttural roar of Warg-riders splits the wind. The vanguard has arrived.

“Dying Scout: Run, rider! The White Hand marches for the plains... warn Edoras!”

Your spear punches clean through the lead beast's throat. The Warg violently collapses, pitching its rider into the red dirt. Then the sky roars. Stone shatters with thunderous fury as a colossal red-scaled dragon lands on the castle wall, crushing the parapets beneath iron talons.

“Orc Raider: The sky-devil! Run, you dogs!”

Dragon fire incinerates the valley behind, but your steed outstrips the falling ash. The dying scout's charge burns in your blood. Ahead, bathed in morning sun, the golden hall of Edoras rises against the mountain peaks. Rohan will answer. The Horselords will ride to war. THE END.

“Hero: Fly, shadow of ruin! Rohan will stand!”