In the vast expanse of the Edoras countrysides, where rolling hills kissed the sky and fields stretched as far as the eye could see, an ancient evil stirred. The land of Rohan, once known for its brave warriors and noble kings, now faced a new threat that lurked beneath the shadows of the towering Fangorn Forest. Word spread like wildfire through the villages and hamlets, carried on the whispers of the wind.

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In the land of Rohan, nestled amidst rolling green hills, lay the ancient city of Edoras. Its grand halls and mighty walls had long stood as a testament to the strength and valor of the Rohirrim, the horse lords. But as with all places touched by time, whispers of a dark past lingered within its hidden corners. It was a moonlit night, when the sky shimmered with silver stars, that a small band of Uruk-hai orcs ventured forth from their hideout in the Misty Mountains.

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In the realm of Rohan, where the grasslands stretched wide and the majestic peaks of the White Mountains pierced the sky, there stood the grand fortress of Edoras. High atop the green hill of Meduseld, the golden halls of the Rohirrim gleamed in the sunlight, for it was the dwelling place of King Théoden and his loyal subjects. As the days passed peacefully, whispers began to echo throughout the land, carried on the wind, of a fearsome dragon that had awoken from its slumber.

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