Dunedain

January 26th, 3019 T.A.

‘The Grim, Homely House’

January 28th, 3019 T.A.

'Alagnir in Imladris'

Haeneth, whilst hunting for clues to the disappearances in Dunland, is visited by Agamaran, to share his duty.

How So few words can destroy so many hopes? How a reunion could turn into a disaster? 

Torchanar paused in his stride, sniffing the crisp winter air. It was faint, so very faint that he thought it might be a trick of his senses. Parting his lips, he inhaled deeply, using the trick to increase the sensitivity of smell. There it was. A trace of the odor of burning. It might have been missed by orc or ordinary men, but Torchanar was Dunedain and his senses well tuned to the natural world.

The sun had traveled past its noon mark when Lhachiel passed the first stones of the ruins. Her arrival had hailed some isolated warm greetings, yet predominantly raised eyebrows, the latter among those who had only heard, not ever crossed path with her. The sight of a woman bearing arms as readily as the men congregated within these ruins, was an unusual one, and Lhachiel was all too aware of this while trying not to show any signs of unease.

Aelthrandir sat by the fire stripping the bark from the length of branch he had cut to roast a coney, which lay skinned and gutted beside him. The evening was drawing in and a chill was in the air.