* * *
Vayanire - A treasure out of Westernesse
Andrahir and Wyck were initially uneasy around each other, the former wary of the latter’s intentions, and the latter having long held a dislike for the rangers. Fate brought them together, and they were soon allies. When their company fought off a score of orcs near Fornost Erain, Wyck took a nasty wound, but the day was won. The ranger stooped by the young man’s side and produced a flat white stone he had taken from the orcs’ spoils. It was a thing of beauty, and ancient as the world - it seemed to Wyck. “This is a stone from Akallabêth, Wyck - my homeland. I name it Vayanire, the sea-tear - and name it unto you. May it remind you of our company, if we should part.” Andrahir placed the stone in the bree-lander’s hand. In that moment he felt for the first time in his life, like he was part of a family.
* * *
Ringmegil - The Elfen-blade
When he dwelt for a time with the elves in the shadow of the great eastern mountains Wyck often sat in conversation with Hemeldir, chiefest of Elrond’s smiths. Allthough made with hill-iron and not the precious ores of the elder days - the sword Wyck forged under the tutelage of the elf was a thing of beauty. He took it to Candath, his friend, who saw it shine dimly, reflecting the cool blue of the mountain skies. “Ringmegil”, he named it.
On the hilt, wreathed in silver, sat a gagate, a perfect gem the master ring-maker had polished in Gondolin in years of yore.
* * *
Mallen-fer - The cloak of woven light
The cloak was of a fine silk-like material, yet tough as leather and warm as fur. It was light and beautiful and had a natural sheen to it, yet did not give the wearer away to unfriendly eyes. It was a lordly gift, and Wyck treasured it greatly - for it had been given to him by the elf Tindollion of Lothlorien, who he ever hence considered a friend.
