Ruadan opened the letter as he leaned with his back to a tree in Chetwood. He had been watching the comings and goings around Bree for sometime now. The elves appreciated that he could travel where he could not and his skills meant that often not even men did not see him. They would perhaps see a trader on his way home as he would often tell people if they enquired of him, or perhaps a trapper setting out in the early dawn to set his traps.
None were aware of his true purpose, that of gathering information.
As he read the contents his face furrowed, the letter was not from Imladris as expected but from his brethren by the Starlit lake. They want him to meet with a ranger of note in the ruined fortress of Ost Guruth near the Last Bridge by the borderlands. But oddly enough it gave no reason why, only a day and that day was close at hand but five cycles of the moon.
Folding the letter away Ruadan turned back to his breakfast now burnt over the fire, it seems the day had gotten off to a bad start two fold he mused to himself as he did his best to eat the burnt food!
