warband of imladris

Ruadan arrived late into the township of Bree the smell of the town greeted his nostrels before he even laid eyes upon the brown wooden gate. Once he had exchanged a few words with the gate keeper he slowly rode up to the inn located in the heart of the town the bright light of its interior flooded out to the square in front of the structure.

Since returning to the vale after spending some time with the sons of Elrond one of whom he had served alongside with for many centuries his spirit still seemed restless. Even practising the age old sword patterns long ago burned into his muscle memory did not settle him. The sword patterns are a few memories that have remained with him when many others were lost that fateful day.

Adanmiel rode leisurely back into the Vale as the sun began to set along the horizon.

"Llamreth, thank you for accompanying me, friend," she whispered as she dismounted.  Her steed trotted off to a grassy clearing nearby and began to graze.  Her strength had begun to improve after returning from the long journey they had taken together to Edhellond.  Adanmiel was glad, the journey had been hard on Llamreth.  She removed Llamreth's bridle and headed home.

Nelnardis took a long mouthful from the bottle of wine. She was sitting on the grass behind her house in Imladris. Not bothering to replace the cork, she set down the green bottle, focusing her attention on the journal on her lap.

Dolthafaer halted at the head of the stairs and cast his eyes over the shadowed courtyard below.  To his staggering relief, Yrill was not to be seen.  She must have reached the shelter of the pillars.  He had not heard the sound of an arrow being released, but even so – this was an enemy that did not deserve to take down his huntress.

As he closed his eyes, he felt how the room became smaller.
He could feel the dread crawl up from deep within himself and gnaw at his heart.
The scars on his body ached, as he remembered each and every one.