We finally made it to Suri-Kyla, although not without incident.
Aakusti is young, brash, arrogant and often childish in his demands for respect from those who know him not. He seems to believe that being the son of a cheif automatically accords him deference from those around him, no matter who they are or where they are from. Apparantly, he has yet to learn that a chieftain of an Angmar tribe is only known in his own lands and not a grand a famous king whose name is written in the legends of elsewhere.
Alas, this lack of knowledge of the outside world very nearly led to us being chased out of Forochel on our first night here. He disliked the distrusting and silent nature of the men who watched us within their village and drew his sword when they spoke to me and not him. I was just about able to prevent a fight from occuring between the two men. Naturally, we left their welcoming fires early the next morning and made our way further into the frozen wastes beyond.
We made our way to Suri-Kyla with all due haste, hoping to get this mission over and done with as quickly as possible. As we walked, I explained the incursions of the Duvardain into these lands and what little I know of their purpose here. He was, unsurprisingly, disturbed by this news.
As I write, Aakusti speaks with the cheif here, hoping to enlist aid for Aughaire. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so I have heard, thus I can only hope that the son of Crannog holds his temper long enough to convince them that there are two tribes of Angmar.
