Daegond

I heard from my friend Elvealin that there was a missing Noldor. His name was Sergeant Daegond, code named Alice. Yes, a peculiar name for a male elf, but that is not important. He was last seen in the desolate span of beyond Bree, in that old shabby inn. I know there are dangers in that land. I know there is trouble.

Ancalasse did not blink an eye that night. 

There were many angles to the fight that was coming the next day. If Daegond to kill Meluilindele, which he thought Daegond would Losgael would be strayed from her order and grief would consume her. Reducing her into a pile of rubble.

If he did deny Daegond to fight, the hound would surely use it to his benefit. Spreading tales of favouritism. The previous time he did that in the mountains was nearly disastrous for Ancalasse's well established reputation as a good quartermaster.

In the Hall of Fire elves gathered, summoned by their Lord Anglachelm.

​Laurelindo was sitting in their camp, watching the sky above, writing in his usual book at the light of the fading fire.

“The journey started with no incident. Which I suppose, I should count as lucky, knowing the both of us. When Tyulusse and I are together, there is no telling what can happen.

We were just a little delayed in our departure. I suppose it wasn’t avoidable. We either should have left earlier, or should have expected it.

No prisoners! No mercy!

“Annunghil, Ráolor, come with me!”