The 2020 Silmaril Awards: The Most Silver Tongue Award Ceremony

I am sorry to report that due to circumstances beyond our control, today’s ceremony to announce the winner of the Most Silver Tongue Silmaril in the 2020 Silmaril Awards has been cancelled. There was an unfortunate failure in the magical countermeasures intended to prevent any untoward incidents at this year’s Silmaril Awards, resulting in the kidnapping of the presenter, Mr. Bilbo Baggins, and all five of the nominees.

However, despite this mishap, Mr. Baggins still managed to present the award. In addition, we have succeeded in reconstructing the events of the presentation by means of casting an enchantment from the spellbook of the wizard Coriakin of Duffer Island upon a palantir from Middle-Earth. The following is an accurate representation of what befell the missing presenter and nominees, who were later rescued.

“Now, Mr. Baggins, tell me…from what country do you come?”

Bilbo Baggins blinked in confusion. He realized he was not entirely certain of where he was. He knew where he was supposed to be…at least, he thought he knew. He had a vague impression of some sort of arena, where he was meant to be giving some sort of award…but it was all very fuzzy. At the moment, he was sitting in a rather shadowy room with no windows, and there was a woman speaking to him as she played on some sort of stringed instrument. A woman dressed in emerald-green…who seemed vaguely familiar, in fact…and there was a very odd smell in the air that tickled his nose uncomfortably. It seemed to be coming from the crackling fire in the hearth.

“Er…” Bilbo coughed. “I realize this will seem like a strange question, madam, but…who are you?”

The woman gave a musical, trilling laugh. “Why, Mr. Baggins, surely you cannot have forgotten me?”

“Er…well…” Bilbo felt very embarrassed indeed, and a trifle nervous, as well. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here.

“But of course,” said the Lady, “you are still suffering from the drrrrreadful enchantment that was cast upon you. It has affected your memory. That is why you must listen very carefully and try to remember everything. Tell me, where do you come from?”

“Ah.” Bilbo frowned. He really ought to remember this. “Well…it’s green, that much I remember.”

Grrrreen.” The woman smiled as she strummed her lute…if it was a lute. “Such a lovely color. Are the walls painted green, then?”

“No…I meant the grass.”

“Grass?” His bizarre host laughed again. “Do tell me…what is grrrass?”

“Well…it’s green, and sort of…grassy.” Bilbo struggled to sort out his thoughts. That smell was muddling his head terribly. Describing grass couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“And where is this…green place, exactly?” said the woman.

“It’s…in the middle of something.” Bilbo thumped his head with the heel of his hand a few times. It didn’t help. In an effort to find something, anything, that might jog his memory, he looked around the room. He saw a blindfolded man in scarlet, another man in a jester’s costume, a third who was barefoot and rather scruffy, a fourth who had the wings and talons of a bird, and last, a small boy who was looking very confused and a little sad.

Who in the world could all these people be? And, for that matter, who was Bilbo Baggins?

“While Bilbo attempts to gather his thoughts,” said the Lady, simpering, “let us move on to you, Eanrin.” She gestured to the man in scarlet. “Tell me of your home.”

Eanrin’s brow furrowed above his blindfold. “It’s…er…hold on a moment, let me think…”

“Take all the time you need, my handsome friend,” said the woman, smiling coyly.

“I have a feeling it may have been somewhere…above here.” Eanrin gestured vaguely upwards. “Are we underground? I seem to remember being taken underground.”

The woman in green giggled. “Undergrrrround? What a strange word. And how could there possibly be a country above us, up among the stones and mortar of the roof?”

This jibe stirred something in Bilbo’s memory, but he could not quite get hold of it. Something he had read somewhere, perhaps…or a story that someone had told him…someone with feet like a frog’s? Surely that was impossible.

“It had a name, I know that,” Eanrin insisted. “Rood…Rud…Rid…”

Rrrrridiculous, perhaps.” The woman’s laughter took on a hard, mocking edge.

“A woman!” Eanrin cried out. “I remember a woman! Lady….Sparkle-something.”

The woman gave an almost-uncouth guffaw. “A suitable name for a child’s imaginary playmate, perhaps; but you are far too old for such silliness, sir.” Before Eanrin could protest, she turned her attention to the man in the jester’s costume. “And you, Leonard, where do you hail from?”

“Er…south, I think?” Leonard winced in embarrassment. “Sorry, my brain’s a bit fuzzy for some reason…I don’t suppose we could open a window? Oh, wait, there aren’t any windows…”

“Moving swiftly on,” said the woman, “Artham, would you like to talk about your home?”

“It’s…shiny, I think,” said the winged man, blinking rapidly as he tried to marshal his thoughts. “Though not as shiny as it used to be—”

“How unfortunate. Armulyn?” The woman nodded to the barefoot man.

He merely smiled. “Whatever enchantment you’ve tried to put on us, it will fail. I don’t need to play your games. I know I have a home; that’s enough for me.”

Anger flickered briefly in the woman’s eyes, but her sunny smile never wavered. She looked at the youngest of the four. “And you, Curdie?”

“My home’s…in the mountains,” said Curdie, breathlessly, as if it took a tremendous effort to get the words out.

The woman continued to play her hypnotic melody as the air seemed to grow even thicker with that strange smell. Bilbo wanted to intervene, to help the others somehow, but his limbs felt like lead.

“Mountains,” the woman echoed. “Tell me…what are mountains?”

“They’re big,” said Curdie.

“Yes, but what are they, sweet child?”


The woman laughed again. “Is that all?”

“Very, very big rocks. Bigger than a house. Bigger than a whole heap of houses.”

The woman clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Now, now, Curdie, don’t tell stories. There are no rocks that big. There are no such things as mountains. And there are definitely no such things as goblins.”

Curdie frowned. “I didn’t say anything about goblins.”

“Of course you did.” The woman strummed a trifle faster, as if she were trying to hurry things along. “And now that we’ve got all that out of the way, why don’t you all go to bed? To bed…to sleep…deep sleep…soft pillows…sleep without foolish dreams…

Bilbo wondered how he had failed to notice the woman’s crown before. It held a single orange jewel…though something appeared to be wrong with the stone. It was cracked, and marred by shifting swirls of darkness, like ink poured into a clear pond.

The others were all nodding off. Bilbo had just enough determination left to pretend to do the same.

“And now,” said the woman, “the real work begins.” Her voice was distorted by an unsettling hiss. “I will drrrrrain your talents from you–your pleasant voices, your quick wits, your flowery words–and leave you silent, lifeless husks.” Her laugh was a jarring cackle now. “All your powers and skills will be mine. Your silver tongues will be absorbed into the Silmaril I obtained a year ago…and if that proves successful, I will acquire more of these wonderful gems. I already have the Silmaril which was to be awarded to one of you today. It will be a simple matter for me to cross the worlds and acquire those of the previous winners.”

Bilbo suddenly remembered what the frog-footed man had told him about this woman…and about how she had been defeated. He cut his eyes toward the crackling fire…


No, he decided. That would be far too painful. Better to try something less dramatic. Fortunately, more memories were coming back to him now…including the award ceremony he had memorized in case he happened to misplace his notes. He coughed emphatically and began to recite.

“In fifth place,” said Bilbo, “with five votes we have…Leonard Lightning-Tongue!”

“Oh,” said Leonard, his eyes wide. “Oh…I’m starting to remember now.” He looked a bit disappointed at having received the least votes, but this was outweighed by his happiness at remembering who he was.

“Excuse me, hobbit,” said the woman in green, baring her teeth, “but I think you’ll find that I am in control here.”

Bilbo went on defiantly. “In fourth place, with nineteen votes…Artham Wingfeather!”

Artham unfurled his wings triumphantly. “I’m remembering too!”

“No, you are not!” shrieked the Lady, throwing her instrument to the ground. It shattered into a shapeless lump of strings and splinters. “There is nothing to remember! There is no Shining Isle of Anniera, there is no—”

“Third!” Bilbo interrupted loudly. “Armulyn the Bard, with twenty-three votes!”

“Stop that!” Scales began sprouting on the Lady’s face, and her whole body began to undulate in a serpentine manner.

Armulyn grinned at her. “I told you it wouldn’t work,” he said softly.

Bilbo soldiered on. “Second, Curdie, with forty-one votes!”

Curdie skipped happily despite the fact that he’d fallen just short of winning. He began to compose a poem on the spot, which said various uncomplimentary yet justified things about strange women in green who kidnapped children and tried to steal their tongues.

“And finally,” said Bilbo, as the Lady of the Green Kirtle continued to writhe in fury, “the winner…EANRIN!”

Everyone cheered, except the Lady, who was incandescent with rage, and Eanrin, who changed back and forth from a human to a cat six times in the space of fifteen seconds from sheer joy and bewilderment. “Hurrah!” he cried, once he’d found his voice again. He capered around the room, still shapeshifting at random. He paused briefly to direct a censorious frown at the Lady. “It’s Lady Gleamdren, by the way, and while I have not had the dubious pleasure of seeing your face, I’m quite certain she is far, far prettier than you.”

“At the moment, Eanrin, that’s not a very high bar to clear.” Leonard curled his lip in disgust at the part-human, part-snake creature which the Lady had become. “Eugh.”

The Lady gave an earsplitting hiss…but before she could complete her transformation, she was distracted by a loud explosion on her forehead. The Silmaril in her crown, overtaxed by the rebellion of the five nominees, burst into fragments. Its orange light flickered and died, overwhelmed by darkness.

“No!” Now fully human (or whatever her true species was) again, the Lady fell to her knees and began frantically shoving the pieces of her Silmaril back together again. “No! My prrrreciousssss!” A forked tongue flicked out of her mouth as she spoke the last word.

Bilbo noticed something glittering in the remains of her broken lute. He stepped over and dug through the splinters until he found a ribbon, and pulled out the stolen Silmaril for this year’s ceremony. Smiling in triumph, he went to Eanrin (he had to chase the ecstatic bard/cat around for a bit until he finally caught up with him) and slipped the Silmaril around his neck. Eanrin finally came to a standstill, grinning from ear to ear with pride.

While Artham watched the Lady sternly in case she decided to try turning into a snake again, Leonard got to work beating out the Lady’s magical fire with a rug. “Well,” he said, coughing on the ashes, “thank goodness that’s over.”

“Yes,” said Bilbo, “but now we’ve got to figure out how we’re going to get back to our own worlds.” He sighed. “This has been, without a doubt, the most disastrous ceremony for Most Silver Tongue in the history of the Awards.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say so.” Eanrin stroked the ribbon of his Silmaril and smiled.

Mr. Baggins and the others were eventually retrieved from the Lady’s realm by an elite interdimensional strike force led by King Tirian of Narnia and King Aragorn II Elessar of Gondor, equipped with a Time Turner borrowed from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1997 and magic rings which agents of the Silmaril Awards recovered from the wreckage of a train crash in 1949. The temporal paradox in the Narnian timeline caused by Tirian’s presence in his own ancestor’s past was resolved with the use of waters from the River Lethe, which erased any memory of the incident from the minds of all parties involved…except Bilbo, who knows how to keep secrets, and Eanrin, who like all Silmaril winners was sworn not to tell anyone about his adventures by means of a very stern pinky promise.

Despite the destruction of her Silmaril, the Lady of the Green Kirtle will not be eligible to receive the Most Silver Tongue award again in the future. While she is still eligible to receive awards in other categories, she is banned from all future Silmaril Award ceremonies for the safety of the other nominees…though we can make no guarantee that she won’t somehow show up anyway.

To recap, the vote tally was as follows:

Eanrin from The Tales of Goldstone Wood – 52 votes

Curdie from The Princess and the Goblin – 41 votes

Armulyn the Bard from The Wingfeather Saga – 23 votes

Artham Wingfeather from The Wingfeather Saga – 19 votes

Leonard Lightning-Tongue from The Tales of Goldstone Wood – 5 votes

Don’t forget to visit the official Silmaril Awards website to keep up with the rest of the award ceremonies; many of which were not nearly as disastrous as this one. If you’re a fan of The Tales of Goldstone Wood, be sure to check out the new fansite Knights of Farthestshore, where you can interact with fellow lovers of the books. Here’s the official description:

We, seven fans of the Tales of Goldstone Wood series, created this site to fangirl about analyze characters, explore the world and prose of Goldstone, and invite others to come and feel at home here. For a long time, these books have gone without being well-known, and we’re hoping to change that. So while you’re here, explore the library, read some posts, delight in quotes from these wonderful books, and sign your name in our guestbook.We and others will want to know you’ve visited so that we can say hi… and know that, perhaps, you’re another kindred spirit. We hope you enjoy your stay at our Haven for fans of Goldstone Wood!





Playlist: (


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The 2020 Silmaril Awards: Vote for the Most Silver Tongue (CLOSED)


Not you. I wasn’t talking to you. Just to the fifty-one Silver Tongues who didn’t make it to the final round of the Silmaril Awards. I mean, I will say that this year has been a relief in many respects…I haven’t had incompetent henchmen making poorly-conceived attempts on my life, or nefarious villains making far more effective attempts on my life, or magnificent dragons setting my hair on fire. Nope, this year it’s just…talking. Lots and lots and lots of ta–RECORD SCRATCH

Huh? Wait, I didn’t type that…

The Author was having a difficult time with this year’s awards. How, he pondered, could one make Silver Tongues as interesting as henchmen and villains and dragons? True, he’d had a difficult time putting up with them all over the years, but it had to be acknowledged that they kept life interesting. Silver Tongues, on the other hand…talked. Beautifully, one had to admit, but after hearing fifty-six of them give impassioned speeches, the Author was beginning to wonder if a few Copper Tongues had slipped into the group. In fact, he was beginning to question the value of speech at all. There were so many better ways of expressing oneself. Semaphore, for example. Interpretive dance. Texting. (This was after texting, but before interpretive dance got really popular in 2021, a year whose slogan was “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet.”)

AHEM. Excuse me a moment, ladies and gentlemen, we appear to be having a small metafictional crisis. Please stand by.

Excuse me, Mr….uh…do you have a name?

That’s rather a complicated question. Some call me S. Morgenstern, but others…

Right. Never mind. I’ll just call you “Narrator” to keep things simpler. You are the narrator of The Princess Bride, correct?


Okay. As I already told you, you didn’t get enough seconds to make it to the final round of the awards. I regret it; I really do, but it’s out of my hands. You were supposed to be back in your own universe with your memory erased by now.

It didn’t work.

Yes, I had a feeling it might not work on you. Tampering with the memories of complex transdimensional beings is always difficult. I really hope nobody ever tries to nominate Darkseid for the Nefarious Villain category again…but I digress. Would you be so kind as to hop back to your own reality and let me handle this blog post in peace? My life is multiversally complicated enough as it is.

Fine, fine.

Thank you.

But before I go, just one more thing…

Ohhh, I see what you did there. Nice one.

Thanks. Since your forte is clearly more…well, let’s face it, evil characters…

Watch it, Columbo.

…why not let me introduce the nominees? As sort of a consolation prize?

I’m really not sure about that. If I let you do it, they’ll all want to.

Yes, but all the others had their memories erased. You’ve got nothing to lose.

Hmmmm. All right, fine. Just this once. I suppose I shouldn’t complain; at least it’s not Kronk trying to crash the party again. Carry on, Narrator; I’ll go check the dimensional shielding around the arena for the award ceremony again.

Wonderful. You won’t regret this.

Oh, I’m sure I will; I’m just interested to see how it all works out despite that.

And so, the Author left the Narrator to his task. A spotlight shone down on the arena–which was still under construction, and had all sorts of state-of-the-art magical countermeasures to prevent catastrophes just in case. The Author didn’t expect much trouble from the other Silver Tongue nominees, especially since he’d adopted the clever strategy of erasing their memories of being nominated in the first place, but there was no harm in being cautious. In the gleam of the spotlight stood five people; the only Silver Tongues who had made it to the final round.

The first was a tall, blonde man who was both good-looking and keenly aware that he was good-looking. He kept casting charming smiles toward the audience despite the fact that the audience hadn’t actually arrived yet. He was dressed in scarlet, with a flowing cape and a hat adorned with a feather. His eyes–or rather, the places where his eyes would have been if he’d had any–were covered by silken patches. If I were asked to compare him to an animal, I’d pick a cat, due to his graceful movements and easy confidence…as well as the fact that he’s just turned into a fluffy orange-white cat. He does that a lot. His name was, and is, Eanrin.

Yes, I’m aware that I played fast and loose with tenses in that paragraph. It’s a Narrator’s prerogative. Have these events happened already, or are they happening now? Who can say? Certainly not you; you’re not the one telling this story, are you?

The next person on stage was dressed in a jester’s costume…fitting, since he had the air of a performer and a jokester. He, too, smiled at the still-absent audience, and moved his lips as he practiced what he was going to say to them when they were actually there. Given that he occasionally chuckled to himself, he must have found his material humorous. Who could say if the audience would agree? Regardless, Leonard the Lightning-Tongue certainly had the will to win. And the words, if the length of his murmured soliloquy was anything to go by.

Third in line, there was an unkempt and barefoot gentleman practicing softly on a whistleharp (a clever little instrument which had both strings to strum and a mouthpiece to blow into). If the quality of his practice was this superb, his actual performance would no doubt be exquisite…though, of course, words would carry more weight than music when push came to shove. It was difficult to tell a great deal about him at first glance, though I, as the Narrator, can confirm that he is exceptionally brave and that he can play upon the emotions of his audience as skillfully as he plays his whistleharp. Armulyn the Bard is his name.

Fourth…oh dear, it’s going to be difficult to talk about this character without spoiling things, isn’t it? Well, we’ll try to keep this as vague as possible while still doing the man justice. He looked as if he had been through a great deal. That was obvious from his somewhat haggard appearance, and the fact that he had been partly transformed into a bird. However, there was much nobility in his aspect, as well. He had wings on his back, and talons on his hands instead of fingernails. He remained silent as he gazed out at the empty seats before him, but his eyes spoke of great victories and terrible losses…the things from which captivating stories are made. When he speaks, no one will dare interrupt Artham Wingfeather.

Fifth and last, there was a young boy, not yet thirteen years old, with pale skin and curly brown hair. He was singing along with Armulyn’s whistleharp practice, though he appeared to be making up his own words to go with the unfamiliar melodies. Most of the lyrics consisted of unflattering commentary on goblins. Though he was the youngest of the nominees, he seemed completely at ease on stage with the rest. Possibly the lack of goblins in the stadium was giving him added confidence…then again, Curdie seemed like the sort who wouldn’t be afraid of goblins in the first place.

Thank you, Narrator. I’ll take it from here.

First of all, just to recap, our nominees for Most Silver Tongue are:

Eanrin, from The Tales of Goldstone Wood by Anne Elisabeth Stengl
Leonard Lightning-Tongue, from The Tales of Goldstone Wood by Anne Elisabeth Stengl
Armulyn the Bard, from The Wingfeather Saga by Andrew Peterson
Artham Wingfeather, from The Wingfeather Saga by Andrew Peterson
Curdie, from The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

You can vote for your favorite Silver Tongue in the form linked below, as well as your choices in the other nine Silmaril Awards categories.

Vote in the Silmaril Awards! (voting closed, link inactive)

Also, be sure to visit the other voting posts in the Awards to find out more about the rest of the nominees. Here are the links:










Come back here on September 21st to find out who won the award for Most Silver Tongue. And don’t forget to sign up for our awesome Silmaril Awards giveaway! You’ll have a chance to win:

  • A Book Depository gift card
  • A BEVY of books
  • Character stickers
  • White Tree of Gondor bookmark
  • Thorin key, pen, and bookmark
  • A custom hand-drawn map

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The 2020 Silmaril Awards: Most Silver Tongue Nominations (CLOSED)

The Silmaril Awards are back!

Wait, whoa, hold on, why are you hiding behind furniture? That wasn’t a threat. Yes, I do realize this is 2020 and…yeah, there isn’t much more I need to say, is there…BUT, the Silmaril Awards are a GOOD thing. No murder hornets or vampire aardvarks involved, I promise.


Ahem. As I was saying, the Silmaril Awards are extremely fun, and you will enjoy them. Also, you will be very happy to know that after three years of henchmen, villains, and dragons, I have chosen a very safe and benevolent category that cannot possibly result in any interdimensional cataclysms.

But before we discuss the category, let’s go over what the awards are.

The Silmaril Awards are all about celebrating fantasy fiction. But whereas most awards go to authors or books, these awards go to the characters themselves! Sound like fun? Read on.

Started in 2016, these awards are a four week online celebration of all that’s best in fantasy literature. There are ten awards given every year. The characters who receive them have to be from books generally considered to be in the fantasy genre. And a given character cannot receive an award more than once. These are lifetime awards.

Nominations are submitted on the websites of each of the presenters for that year. Anyone can submit a nomination and you can second (and third and fourth, etc.) any number of nominations besides your own.

After the nomination period (lasting one week) ends, the five characters receiving the most nominations will make it onto the ballot and you’ll have one week to vote. After the votes are tallied, the winners will be announced, one per day, over the final two weeks of the awards.


This year, I will be managing the Most Silver Tongue award. As I said, there is absolutely no way that this can go wrong, so submit your nominations in the comments without fear. Which fantasy character do you consider to be the most gifted with words? The most skilled at diplomacy, exhortation, and persuasion? The most capable of convincing his or her enemies that they are actually plotting against each other so that they destroy each other without the character actually having to lift a finger?

(Okay, fine, I will admit that the potential antiheroic qualities of a Silver Tongue MAY have played a role in my asking for this award category. But at least I’m placing an equal emphasis on heroism and villainy this year. I have clearly grown as a person.)

Now, let’s go over the rules for nominations.

  1. All characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien are ineligible to be nominated. With regard to these awards, Tolkien characters are considered the ultimate standards for their respective categories already. As such, they will present the awards at the end of this event.
  2. These awards are for fantasy characters only, so no science fiction characters are eligible. That said, we are willing to consider characters from a sciencey book if it has enough magickey stuff going on to warrant admission. For example, characters from the Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer are admissible due to the presence of some magical elements in that series. If you’re not sure whether a character is eligible, let me know in the comments, and I and the other Silmaril Awards presenters will decide the issue via gladiatorial combat.
  3. When you nominate a character, you must mention the book that the character comes from. Otherwise you might end up nominating another character with the same name from a completely different book. For example, do you have any idea how many fictional characters are named “Steve”? I rest my case.
  4. Feel free to nominate as many characters as you wish and “second” as many characters as you wish. The top 5 MOST seconded characters will go on to the final voting round. Characters dismissed from the first round will be returned to their respective universes after having their memories of the Silmaril Awards erased. If you complain about the character’s dismissal, you will be sent to a random universe after having your memory erased.
  5. If you are an author, you are welcome to participate, but you can’t nominate your own characters; sorry. That said, feel free to direct your minions to this event. Fans. I meant fans.
  6. Characters who have won in a particular category in a previous year are ineligible to be nominated for the same award again. The Silmarils are Lifetime Awards. For a list of the previous winners in each category, please check out our Hall of Fame.
  7. Please remember that these are Fantasy BOOK Awards. A movie character is only eligible for nomination if they were in a book first. Novelizations, tie-in books, coloring books, and Hallmark cards do not count.
  8. We have a Facebook group for the people voting in the awards to get together and discuss them. Click here to find out more and to join.
  9. Finally, don’t forget to visit the other blogs and nominate characters for all ten awards! You can find a full list of the other participating blogs in the graphic below, and there are links to all of them on the official Silmaril Awards website.

One more thing before you start nominating: in addition to Tolkien characters, here are the other characters who have won the award in the past and are therefore ineligible for nomination:

Nominations close on the evening of September 4, so put your choice in the comments below while you can! And check back on September 7 to discover which characters are moving on to the voting round. You can find out more about the Silmaril Awards on the official website. Below, I’ve got links to all the other nominations posts. Be sure to visit them all and nominate characters in the rest of the categories!

Tracey Dyck – Most Epic Heroine

Madeline J. Rose – Strangest Character

Christine Smith – Most Mischievous Imp

Sarah Taleweaver – Most Magnificent Dragon

D.J. Edwardson – Wisest Counselor

Zachary Totah – Most Epic Hero

Mackenzie Keene – Most Nefarious Villain

Jenelle Schmidt – Most Faithful Friend

E.E. Rawls – Least Competent Henchman

We also have a fantastic giveaway for you to enter! You will have a chance to win:

  • A Book Depository gift card
  • A BEVY of books
  • Character stickers
  • White Tree of Gondor bookmark
  • Thorin key, pen, and bookmark
  • A custom hand-drawn map

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