Daegond

It could not have been a more splendid day for a tournament. 

The sun was high in the clear blue sky by the time Dolthafaer arrived in Delossad – the ruins situated in a glade not far from Imladris, pillars and walls of crumbling grey stone encircling a courtyard overgrown with wildflowers of purple and white and gold.  

Laurelindo was at home, sitting near the little pool, harp in a side, writing supply on his laps, writing :

'Yesterday was the trial, finally. It has been long in coming…

The trial was long and, despite the seriousness of the crimes and of the situation, it was quite… Entertaining. Between the famous argument of : 'Feanor did that, why can't we also… ?' and other liberties taken by the defendants, much to their attorney's despair I believe… Really it was entertaining.

I had heard some talk in the courtyard of one of the guests leaving very abruptly, having taken sick, and all his symptoms indicated that his sickness was probably due to the food that he ate while in the Hall of Fire, which, it was said, was a seafood repast graciously supplied by my Lord Anglachelm.

Laurelindo was sitting in the middle of his own bags, a simple tent standing around him... So simple actually that it was ready to fall after not even 2 hours. He would have to do it properly in the morning... If he or anyone else really cared about it at the time that is.

His mind was replaying the day's events, beginning with the assembly of those who left Imladris that day :